The cabin was gray and tottering with age. Above the porch on the
branches of an apple-tree hung leaves that matched in richness of
tint the thick moss on the rough shingles. Under it an old woman
sat spinning, and a hound lay asleep at her feet. Easter was
nowhere to be seen, but her voice came from below him in a loud
tone of command; and presently she appeared from behind a knoll,
above which the thatched roof of a stable was visible, and slowly
ascended the path to the house. She had evidently just finished work, for a plough stood in the last furrow of the field, and the fragrance of freshly turned earth was in the air. On the porch she sank wearily into a low chair, and, folding her hands, looked away to the mountains.

Clayton climbed the crumbling fence. A dead twig snapped, and,
startled by the sound, the girl began to rise; but, giving him one
quick, sharp look, dropped her eyes to her hands, and remained
motionless.

"Good morning," said Clayton, lifting his hat. The girl did not raise
her face. The wheel stopped, and the spinner turned her head.

How air ye? " she said, with ready hospitality. " Come in an' hev a
cheer."

"No, thank you," he answered, a little embarrassed by Easter's odd
behavior. " May I get some water?

"Sartinly," said the old woman, looking him over curiously. "
Easter, go git some fresh."

The girl started to rise, but Clayton, picking up the bucket, said,
quickly:

"Oh no; I won't trouble you. I see the spring," he added, noticing a