The mountain girl stopped when she saw Betty Jo, and the latter went to the top of the steps.
“Good-evening, Judy!” said Betty Jo, quietly. “Won't you come in?”
Slowly, with her black beady eyes fixed on Betty Jo's face, Judy went up the steps.
As the mountain girl reached the level of the porch-floor, Betty Jo drew a little back toward the door.
Judy stopped instantly, and stood still. Then, in a low tone, she said: “You-all ain't got no call ter be afeared, Miss Betty Jo. You hain't never goin' ter have no call ter be scared of me again, never.”
“I am so glad for you to say that, Judy,” returned Betty Jo, smiling. “I don't want to be afraid of you, and I am not really; but—”
“Ain't you-all plumb a-hatin' me for what I done?” asked Judy, wonderingly.
“No, no; Judy, dear, I don't hate you at all, and you must know that Auntie Sue loves you.”
“Yes,” Judy nodded her head, thoughtfully. “Auntie Sue just naturally loves everybody. Hit wouldn't be no more'n nature, though, for you-all ter hate me. I sure have been poison-mean.”
“But that is all past now, Judy,” said Betty Jo, heartily. “Come and sit down?” She started toward the chairs.