Miss Mayfield flushed a little at this practical direct answer to
her half-figurative question. However, she began to think that moral
Alpine-climbing youth might have pecuniary restrictions in their high
ambitions, and that the hero of "Excelsior" might have succumbed to
more powerful opposition than the wisdom of Age or the blandishments of
Beauty.

"You mean that poverty up there is more expensive?"

"Yes, miss."

"But you would like to live there?"

"Yes."

They were both silent. Miss Mayfield glanced at Jeff under the corners
of her lashes. He was leaning against a tree, absorbed in thought.
Accustomed to look upon him as a pleasing picturesque object, quite
fresh, original, and characteristic, she was somewhat disturbed to find
that to-day he presented certain other qualities which clearly did not
agree with her preconceived ideas of his condition. He had abandoned
his usual large top-boots for low shoes, and she could not help noticing
that his feet were small and slender as were his hands, albeit browned
by exposure. His ruddy color was gone too, and his face, pale with
sorrow and experience, had a new expression. His buttoned-up coat and
white collar, so unlike his usual self, also had its suggestions--which
Miss Mayfield was at first inclined to resent. Women are quick to notice
and augur more or less wisely from these small details. Nevertheless,
she began in quite another tone.