“There’s some adder-tongues just peepin’ up in the valley, Gloss,” he said. “Would you like to see ’em?”
She passed down the path beside him, and when the thicket of hazel hid them from the others she put her hand on his arm.
“Tell me, Boy,” she said wistfully, “why am I to go away from you all?”
She looked at him with wide eyes and waved her hand outward. “—And all this?” she added with a sob.
“Why, Gloss,” began Boy, then stood unable to go on, his whole being revolting at the very thought of what he must say. “You see,” he managed to say at last, “you’re the Colonel’s niece. You come of different stock from us, Gloss. He has any amount of money and we all want you to go with him and be educated like a lady. Oh, we’ll miss you, girl—but there, that’s all there is to it. We want you to go. It’ll be best for you.”
She caught her breath.
“Of course, if you want me to go,” she said, “why—why, Boy, I’ll go.”
“That’s a good girl,” smiled Boy bravely. “Now for the flowers.”
“I think I would rather go back,” she whispered. “I—I don’t want the flowers.”
They walked back slowly and in silence. McTavish and Injun Noah were piling fresh wood beneath the kettles.