Leger remembered that she had once professed herself perfectly contented with the Green River country, but he did not think it advisable to mention the fact. He rose and flung an armful of wood upon the fire, and then stood still smiling.
"You know you can go back there and stay through the winter, if you would like to," he said.
"That's nonsense," said Hetty. "How could I go myself? You and your friends haven't made everybody nice to everybody yet. I'm not going, anyway, and if you worry me I'll be cross."
She looked up sharply and saw that Sewell's face was unnaturally grave.
"Of course," she said, "you were grinning at Tom a moment ago. Still, I can't help it if I am a very little cross just now. It's the cold—and Tom spoiled the last batch of bread. It is cold, isn't it? If it hadn't been, we shouldn't have seen you."
"I don't know why you should seem so sure of that," said Sewell.
Hetty looked at him sharply. "Well," she said, "I am. You would have gone on to the major's. You know you would. What do you go there so often for?"
Sewell had occasionally found Hetty's questions disconcerting, but he saw that she expected an answer.
"I am rather fond of chess," he said.
Hetty smiled incredulously. "That's rubbish!"