During the remainder of the forenoon these musings prevented the slightest trace of sentimentality from appearing in her face or words. She had to admit mentally that Minturn gave her no occasion for defensive tactics. He attended as strictly to business as did Hiram, and she was allowed to come and go at will. At first she merely ventured to the house, to "help mother," as she said. Then, with growing confidence, she went here and there to select sites for trees; but Minturn dug on no longer "like a steam-engine," yet in an easy, steady, effective way that was a continual surprise to the farmer.
"Well, Sue," said her father at last, "you and mother ought to have an extra dinner; for Mr. Minturn certainly has earned one."
"I promised him only a dinner," she replied; "nothing was said about its being extra."
"Quantity is all I'm thinking of," said Minturn. "I have the sauce which will make it a feast."
"Beckon it's gwine on twelve," said Hiram, cocking his eye at the sun.
"Hadn't I better feed de critters?"
"Ah, old man! own up, now; you've got a backache," said Minturn.
"Dere is kin' ob a crik comin'—"
"Drop work, all hands," cried Sue. "Mr. Minturn has a 'crik' also, but he's too proud to own it. How you'll groan for this to-morrow, sir!"
"If you take that view of the case, I may be under the necessity of giving proof positive to the contrary by coming out to-morrow."
"You're not half through yet. The hardest part is to come."