the farmyard. He was a large, awkward boy several years older than
Lydia. He seemed a very homely sort of person to her, yet she liked
his face. He was as fair as Kent was dark. Kent's features were
regular and clean-cut. Billy's were rough hewn and irregular, and his
hair and lashes were straight and blond.

What Lydia could not at this time appreciate was the fact that Billy's
gray eyes were remarkable in the clarity and steadiness of their gaze,
that his square jaw and mobile mouth were full of fine promise for his
manhood and that even at sixteen the framework of his great body was
magnificent.

He never had paid any attention to Lydia before and she was bashful
toward the older boys.

"Say, Lydia, want a brace of duck? A lot of them settled at Warm
Springs last night and I've got more than I can use."

He leaned his gun against the fence and began to separate two birds
from the bunch hanging over his shoulder.

Lydia began to breathe quickly. The Dudleys could not afford a special
Christmas dinner.

"I--I don't know how I could pay you, Bill--"

"Who wants pay?" asked Bill, indignantly.

"I dasn't take anything without paying for it," returned Lydia, her
eyes still on the ducks. "But I'd--I'd rather have those than a ship."