Thus it happened that he came unexpectedly upon Belle-Ann, who stood at the horse-trough, urging Orlick's animal away from the water. Orlick stopped short, regarded her confusedly; then, removing his trooper's hat, executed a bow and smirked copiously.
His heart thumped wildly in that instant. Each time he saw Belle-Ann he vowed mentally that she was more beautiful than before. The sight of her invariably threw him into a state of nervous flurry, and drove from his mind the pretty things he had previously decided to say to her.
Small wonder then that he stood abashed before her. Never in all his travels had he seen her equal.
"Yo' wusn't jest a lookin' fo' me—eh—Belle-Ann?" he managed to say awkwardly. She scanned him deprecatingly.
"No—I jest wusn't," she agreed. "Th' boys hain't home, Orlick," she added pointedly, seating herself upon an inverted wagon-bed near by.
Orlick sauntered over and sat down, too, now regaining his poise.
"I didn't know I wus comin', either—till a short spell 'fore I started," he said tentatively.
Belle-Ann eyed the horse, now standing under a poplar, too tired to crop.
"Yo' must hev started frum th' ocean, didn't yo'?" she asked, with a gesture toward the animal.
"Aw—he's soft, Belle-Ann. I 'lowed I'd rest em up a bit—till th' boys cum," he ended lamely.