Rob thought she was very handsome as she sat there with her eyes fixed on the horizon, while these rebellious thoughts found utterance in her quivering, passionate voice.
"Yulie! Kom haar!" roared the old man from the well.
A frown of anger and pain came into her face. She looked at Rob. "That means more work."
"Say! let me go out in your place. Come, now; what's the use—"
"No; it wouldn't do no good. It ain't t'day s' much; it's every day, and—"
"Yulie!" called Peterson again, with a string of impatient Norwegian. "Batter yo' kom pooty hal quick."
"Well, all right, only I'd like to—" Rob submitted.
"Well, good-by," she said, with a little touch of feeling. "When d' ye go back?"
"I don't know. I'll see y' again before I go. Good-by."
He stood watching her slow, painful pace till she reached the well, where Otto was standing with the horse. He stood watching them as they moved out into the road and turned down toward the field. He felt that she had sent him away; but still there was a look in her eyes which was not altogether—