Frances Hodgson Burnett

“ Miss Dunbar crossed them with unembarrassed freedom, and looked at the stranger as if she found her worth steady inspection.
“Thet thar's a purty dress you're a-wearin',” she vouchsafed at length.
Rebecca glanced down at her costume. Being a sensible young person, she had attired herself in apparel suitable for mountain rambling. Her dress was simple pilgrim gray, taut made and trim; but she never lost an air of distinction which rendered abundant adornments a secondary matter.
“It is very plain,” she answered. “I believe its chief object; is to be as little in the way as possible.” ”

“ He returned to New York, but he had been there a week before he went to Rebecca. Finally, however, he awoke one morning feeling that the time had come for the last scene of his miserable drama. He presented himself at the house and sent up his name, and in three minutes Rebecca came to him.
It struck him with a new thrill of wretchedness to see that she wore by chance the very dress she had worn the day he had made the sketch—a pale, pure-looking gray, with a scarf of white lace loosely fastened at her throat. ”

“ Even Lennox, coming every few days with a worn-out look and touched with a haggard shadow, made no outward change in her.
“She does not look,” said the elder lady to herself, “like a neglected woman.” And then the sound of the phrase struck her with a sharp incredulous pain. “A neglected woman!” she repeated,—“Beck!”
She did not understand, and was not weak enough to ask questions.
Lennox came and went, and Rebecca gained upon her work until she could no longer say she was behindhand. ”

“ It was tacitly understood between herself and her aunt that Lennox's labor occupied him.
“It seems a strange time to begin a picture—during a summer holiday,” said Miss Thorne a little sharply upon one occasion.
Rebecca laughed with an air of cheer.
“No time is a strange time to an artist,” she answered. “Art is a mistress who gives no holidays.” ”

“ When they talked the matter over afterward, Miss Thorne's remarks were at once decided and severe.
“Shall I tell you what my opinion is, Rebecca?” she said. “It is my opinion that there is evil enough in the creature to be the ruin of the whole community. She is bad at the core.”
“I would rather believe,” said Rebecca, musingly, “that she was only inordinately vain.” Almost instantaneously her musing was broken by a light laugh. “She has dressed her hair as I dress mine,” she said, “only it was done better. ”

“ No one was to be seen; a small cow, rendered lean by active climbing in search of sustenance, breathed peacefully near the tumble-down fence; the ubiquitous, long-legged, yellow dog, rendered trustful by long seclusion, aroused himself from his nap to greet the arrival with a series of heavy raps upon the rickety porch-floor with a solid but languid tail. Lennox stepped over him in reaching for the gourd hanging upon the post, and he did not consider it incumbent upon himself to rise. ”

“ There was a quick, strong movement on the part of the young man Dave, and he was whirled aside for a second time.
“It's to be me,” he was answered. “I'm the man to settle that—I don't leave it to no gal to settle.”
In two seconds the lookers-on fell back in dismay, and there was a cry of terror from the women. Two lithe, long-limbed figures were struggling fiercely together, and there was a flash of knives in the air.
Rebecca Noble sprang forward.
“They will kill each other,” she said. “Stop them!” ”

“ I would rather die.”
For the moment she was fairly incomprehensible. There was in the set of her eye and the expression of her fair, clear face, the least hint of dogged obstinacy.
“Beck “—she began.
“You ought not to have got up,” said Beck. “It is enough to look 'like this' at night when I am by myself. Go back to bed, if you please.”
Miss Thorne went back to bed meekly. She was at once alarmed and subdued. She felt as if she had had a puzzling interview with a stranger.
In these days Lennox regarded his model with morbid interest. A subtle change was perceptible in her. ”

“ You, and yet you are not the woman I love either. Good God! What a villain I must be. I am an insult to every woman that breathes. It is not even you—though I can't break from you, and you have made me despise myself. ”

“ There was one fiddler at work sawing industriously at one tune which did good service throughout the entertainment; there was a little furious and erratic reel-dancing, and much loud laughter, and good-natured, even if somewhat personal, jest. The room was one of two which formed the house; the walls were of log; the lights the cheery yellow flare of great pine-knots flung one after the other upon the embers. ”

“ Young folks is so foolish; gettin' mad about a gal! Lord knows gals is plenty enough.”
“Not girls like this one,” said Miss Noble, laughing a little.
“Waal now, she is good-lookin', aint she? But she's cur'us, Dusk is—she's a cur'us creetur.”
“Curious!” echoed Rebecca, finding the term vague even while suggestive.
“Yaas,” she said, expansively, “she's cur'us, kinder onsosherble 'n' notionate. Now Dusk is—cur'us. She's so still and sot, 'n' Nath Dunbar and Mandy they think a heap on her,'n' they do the best they kin by her, but she don't never seem to keer about 'em no way. ”

“ How fallen we must be to find a life desolate because it has only nature for a companion!”
She stopped with an idle laugh, waiting for an ironical reply from the “worldling” at her feet; but he remained silent, still looking upward at the clear, deep blue.
As she glanced toward him she saw something lying upon the grass between them, and bent to pick it up. It was the sketch which he had forgotten and which had slipped from the portfolio. ”

“ He was drefful sick at last 'n' suffered a heap, 'n' one day he got up offen his bed 'n' tuk down Nath's gun 'n' shot hisself as cool as could be. He hadn't no patience, 'n' he said, 'When a G—derned man had lived through what he had 'n' then wouldn't die, it was time to kill him.' Seems like it sorter 'counts fur Dusk; she don't git her cur'usness from her own folks; Nath an' Mandy's mighty clever, both on 'em.”
“Perhaps it does 'count for Dusk,” Rebecca said, after telling the tale to Lennox. “It must be a fearful thing to have such blood in one's veins and feel it on fire. ”

“ Ye come from the city, Mis' Harney says.”
“From New York,” said Rebecca. She felt sure that she saw in the tawny brown depths of the girl's eyes a kind of secret eagerness, and this expressed itself openly in her reply.
“I don't blame no one fur wantin' to live in a city,” she said, with a kind of discontent. “A body might most as soon be dead as live this way.”
Rebecca gave her a keen glance. “Don't you like the quiet?” she asked. “What is it you don't like?” ”

“ It's folly to say such things to you; perhaps I say them half to satisfy myself. But I mean to show you that I am not to be trusted. I think perhaps I am too poor a fellow to love any woman honestly and altogether. ”

“ When the two ladies reached the log-cabin at which they had taken up their abode, they found that the story of the event of the evening was before them. Their hostess, whose habit it was to present herself with erratic talk or information at all hours, met them with hospitable eagerness.
“Waal now,” she began, “jest to think o' them thar fool boys a-lettin' into one another in thet tharway. I never hearn tell o' sich foolishness. Young folks is so foolish. 'N' they drord knives?” This is in the tone of suggestive query.
“Yes,” answered Miss Noble, “they drew knives.” ”

“ Rebecca Noble, who stood within a few feet of them, was sure that the lover who approached was the Dave Humes in question, he advanced with such an angry stride, and laying his hand on his rival's shoulder, turned him aside so cavalierly.
“No he aint,” he put in; “not an' me about. I brought ye, an' I'll take ye home, Lodusky, or me and him 'll settle it.”
The other advanced a step, looking a trifle pale and disheveled. He placed himself square in front of Lodusky.
“Dusk Dunbar,” he said, “you're the one to settle it. Which on us is a-gwine home with ye—me or him? ”

“ Fur all she's so still, she's powerful sot on fine dressin' an' rich folkses ways. Nath he once tuk her to Asheville, 'n' seems like she's kinder never got over it, but keeps a-broodin' 'bout the way they done thar, 'n' how their clothes looked, 'n' all thet. She knows she's handsum, 'n' she likes to see other folks knows it, though she never says much. I hed to laugh at my Hamp once; Hamp he aint no fool, an' he'd been tuk with her a spell like the rest o' the boys, but he got chock full of her, 'n' one day we was a-talkin,' 'n' the old man he says, 'Waal now, that gal's a hard wad. ”

“ Harney said to her boarders a week later.
“Mr. Lennox?” returned Rebecca; “yes, he told us.”
“I thort so,” nodding benignly. “Waal now, Dusk'll make a powerful nice picter if she don't git contrairy. The trouble with Dusk is her a-gittin' contrairy. She's as like old Hance Dunbar as she kin be. I mean in some ways. Lord knows, 'twouldn't do to say she was like him in everythin'.”
Naturally, Miss Noble made some inquiries into the nature of old Hance Dunbar's “contrairiness.” Secretly, she had a desire to account for Lodusky according to established theory. ”

“ The big young mountaineer, who, despite his discontent, was a very handsome fellow indeed, had held his own against his rivals stubbornly during the evening, but when, after the final dance, he went in search of his charge, he found that he was not first. ”

“ But it's jest like her—thet is. She's so cur'us, Dusk is. Thar aint no gettin' at her. Ye know the gals ses as she's allers doin' fust one quare thing 'n' then another to get the boys mad at each other. But Lor', p'r'aps 'taint so! Dusk's powerful good-lookin', and gals is jealous, ye know.”
“Do you think,” questioned Miss Noble, “that they really would have killed each other?” ”

“ She had been accustomed to see her niece admired far beyond the usual lot of women; she had gradually learned to feel it only natural that she should inspire quite a strong sentiment even in casual acquaintances. ”

“ He came back in the middle of the afternoon and laughed a rather half-hearted laugh at the excellent Mandy's comment upon his jaded appearance.
“Ye look kinder tuckered out,” she said. “Ye'd oughtn't ter walked so fur when ye was a-gwine off to-night. Ye'd orter rested.”
She stopped the churn-dasher and regarded him with a good-natured air of interest.
“Hev ye seed Dusk to say good-by to her?” she added. “She's went over the mountain ter help Mirandy Stillins with her soap. She wont be back fur a day or two.” ”

“ The next instant he started backward. Before he had time for a thought she had uttered a low cry, and flung herself down at his feet.
“I don't keer,” she panted; “I wont keer fur nothin',—whether ye're good or bad,—only don't leave me here when ye go away.”
A week later Lennox arose one morning and set about the task of getting his belongings together. He had been up late and had slept heavily and long. He felt exhausted and looked so.
The day before, his model had given him his last sitting. The picture stood finished upon the easel. ”

“ They say she's powerful smart—arns her livin' by it. 'T least thet's what Jake Harney says, 'n they's a-boardin' at Harney's. The old woman's some of her kin, 'n' goes 'long with her when she travels 'round. ”

“ She's cur'us, 'n' thar's no two ways about it.' An' Hamp he gives a bit of a laugh kinder mad, 'n' he ses, 'Yes, she's cur'us—cur'us as ——!' May be he felt kinder roughed up about her yet—but I hed to laugh.”
The next morning Miss Noble devoted to letter-writing. In one of her letters, a bright one, of a tone rather warmer than the rest, she gave her correspondent a very forcible description of the entertainment of the evening before and its closing scene.
“I think it will interest him,” she said half aloud, as she wrote upon the envelope the first part of the address, 'Mr. ”