CHAPTER XLI
IN WHICH PROVIDENCE TAKES A HAND
He crushed her to him with a passion that bade fair to stop her breath. He poured out his kisses upon her lips, and face, and eyes. He kissed the little scar that crossed the part in her hair. And there he held her for long, lingering minutes, loath to untwine his arms. Her hot breath was on his neck, and he surfeited his senses upon the incense of her curls.
"We'll all go down to Blue-Grass together now, won't we, Lem?" she said.
"Sho'—I'm done a warrin' now—I'm done fo' always—an', Belle-Ann, my darlin'—I want t' git a edication like yo'-all—eh?—I want t' make myself fittin' fo' yo'. I sho' will do hit, with Gawd's help—an' yore'n. I aimed to ax yo' again to marry me pint-blank—but I don't want yo' to jest now—'til I'm fittin'—I air a goin' to study th' books by day an' by night—I know I kin learn—I'll do hit er bust—then when yore sure I'm fittin'—an' kin talk nice like yo'—an' look decent-like—then—then——"
He drew her to him and buried his face in her curls.
"Little Belle-Ann," he muttered, his joy crowding his words, "little gal, whut I knowed would come back——"
"Did I not cross my heart, Lem?" she said, and as her lips parted to tell to him all that lay in her heart for the future, a swift, blighting look of horror dashed into the girl's face, leaving it whiter than moon-pallor. A half-screamed, incoherent outcry burst from her lips as with outstretched arm she pointed behind him. Responding instantly to her alarm, Lem flung himself around.
Together, transfixed and agape, they stared. A startling sight stood in front of their eyes—a spectacle that filled the sensitive girl with a panting, sickening horror. She stood all a-quiver, her two little hands clutching her breast and her violet eyes swimming in terror. For a tense long minute they could neither speak nor move.