window to accompany every movement. Presently, by a little path through
the field, came a stocky man in blue overalls and the upper garment
known as a jumper. He was bound for the pigpen in the rear of the barn;
and there Amanda flew to meet him, stopping only to throw an apron over
her head. They met at the door. He was a fresh-colored man, with honest
brown eyes and a ring of whiskers under the chin. He had a way of
blushing, and when Amanda came upon him thus unannounced, he colored to
the eyes.

"Why, you're all out o' breath!" he said, in slow alarms.

"O Caleb!" she cried, looking at him with imploring eyes. "I'll feed
the pigs to-night."

Caleb regarded her in dull wonderment. Then he set down the pail he had
taken.

"Ain't there any taters to bile?" he asked, solving the difficulty in
his own way; "or 'ain't you skimmed the milk? I'd jest as soon wait."

"You better not wait," answered Amanda, almost passionately, her thin
hair blowing about her temples. "You better go right back. I'd ruther
do it myself; I'd a good deal ruther."

Caleb turned about. He took a few steps, then stopped, and called
hesitatingly over his shoulder, "I thought maybe I'd come an' set a
spell to-night."

Then, indeed, Amanda felt her resolution, crack and quiver. "I guess
you better come some other night," she said, in a steady voice, though