Billie stood at Pocohontas’ head, rather proud of the office, such a beautiful mare was this thoroughbred with her quivering nostrils and arched neck, while the farmer lifted the gate into its groove.
“You are driving up to the house?” he asked politely.
“Yes,” replied Miss Campbell. “We wondered if we could make a few purchases there?”
“Of horses or cattle?”
“Oh, dear me, no,” she answered, her pink cheeks deepening to a rosier hue. “Only food. Fresh eggs and cream and fresh butter, and perhaps a young chicken, if you have any tender ones, and fresh bread, too.”
Her appetite was growing as she recounted her desires in the way of food.
The young man smiled most delightfully.
“We have all those things, I believe,” he replied, “for use at the house. Do you live near here?”
“No, no. We live some thousand and more miles away from here. We are taking a motor trip across the continent, but since we left Chicago, we—we have suffered a little from hunger——”
Miss Campbell’s voice was slightly tremulous.