“She stood by and looked on,” was the reply.
“Lord!” with the inimitable mountain drawl; “ye don't say so! But it's jest like her—thet is. She's so cur'us, Dusk is. Thar aint no gettin' at her. Ye know the gals ses as she's allers doin' fust one quare thing 'n' then another to get the boys mad at each other. But Lor', p'r'aps 'taint so! Dusk's powerful good-lookin', and gals is jealous, ye know.”
“Do you think,” questioned Miss Noble, “that they really would have killed each other?”
“Lord! yaas,” placidly. “They went to do it. Both Dan'l and Dave's kinder fiery, 'n' they'd nuther on 'em hev give in with Dusk a-lookin' on—they'd hev cut theirselves to pieces fust. Young folks is so foolish; gettin' mad about a gal! Lord knows gals is plenty enough.”
“Not girls like this one,” said Miss Noble, laughing a little.
“Waal now, she is good-lookin', aint she? But she's cur'us, Dusk is—she's a cur'us creetur.”
“Curious!” echoed Rebecca, finding the term vague even while suggestive.
“Yaas,” she said, expansively, “she's cur'us, kinder onsosherble 'n' notionate. Now Dusk is—cur'us. She's so still and sot, 'n' Nath Dunbar and Mandy they think a heap on her,'n' they do the best they kin by her, but she don't never seem to keer about 'em no way. Fur all she's so still, she's powerful sot on fine dressin' an' rich folkses ways. Nath he once tuk her to Asheville, 'n' seems like she's kinder never got over it, but keeps a-broodin' 'bout the way they done thar, 'n' how their clothes looked, 'n' all thet. She knows she's handsum, 'n' she likes to see other folks knows it, though she never says much. I hed to laugh at my Hamp once; Hamp he aint no fool, an' he'd been tuk with her a spell like the rest o' the boys, but he got chock full of her, 'n' one day we was a-talkin,' 'n' the old man he says, 'Waal now, that gal's a hard wad. She's cur'us, 'n' thar's no two ways about it.' An' Hamp he gives a bit of a laugh kinder mad, 'n' he ses, 'Yes, she's cur'us—cur'us as ——!' May be he felt kinder roughed up about her yet—but I hed to laugh.”
The next morning Miss Noble devoted to letter-writing. In one of her letters, a bright one, of a tone rather warmer than the rest, she gave her correspondent a very forcible description of the entertainment of the evening before and its closing scene.
“I think it will interest him,” she said half aloud, as she wrote upon the envelope the first part of the address, 'Mr. Paul Lennox.'