“There is a curb market, you know. I don’t know whether you will find much business. Many people have their own gardens.” She seemed to realize the contradiction between her first enthusiasm and this deterring advice, for she no longer looked at Elizabeth. “Perhaps you had better try to sell your produce at Chambersburg.”
Elizabeth was mystified and a little hurt.
“Thank you,” said she as she climbed back into the wagon.
She stopped at the next house and the next. At both, before she offered her wares she told her name and her grandfather’s name. She sold nothing, however, in spite of her friendliness. It could not be possible that her friendliness repelled these people!
From the porch of one large house a kindly old gentleman walked to meet her, book in hand.
“No, thank you,” he said before she had time to speak. “We have a garden. But you have fine-looking vegetables and I wish you luck.”
He even waved his hand as they drove away. Elizabeth liked him because of his smile and she wished that she might stop and talk to him; he would probably know all about the battle.
As for the old gentleman, he liked Elizabeth and spoke of her to his family. “A capable-looking soul, not pretty, exactly, but with unexpectedly blue eyes. She looked like an interesting girl.”
“Now, Sherlock Holmes,” said the old gentleman’s daughter. “How did you make that out? You are always finding interesting persons.”
“From the way she looked at the book which I had in my hand.”