"You didn't treat me that way once, Henrietta. What's the matter? Have I done anything wrong? Can't you be friendly?"
"Why don't you be friendly?" said the girl, looking down.
"I—I?" said Rob.
"You haven't spoken to me since you came home."
"Well, that isn't my fault; you wouldn't look at me. I'm not going to run after a person that lives in a fine house and that only nods her head at me."
"I don't live in a fine house, but in that old frame."
"Well, why don't you be friendly?"
"It isn't a girl's place to be friendly first, is it?"
Rob stared at her.
"But you had other young men come to see you in town, and—you know I couldn't."