“And the gir—the ladies. You see we don’t have many of them out here and they are all married.”
“Every girl is a belle in this part of the country, I suppose,” observed Nancy. “Even the ugly ones.”
Jim assented, regarding Nancy’s charming face as if he had never seen a girl before in all his life.
“And as for the pretty ones, Miss——”
“Nancy.”
“Miss Nancy, they are fairly worshipped.”
“Are there any pretty ones?” she asked.
“There weren’t until you came,” replied Jim almost in a whisper, and then dropped his knife on the floor. He stooped for so long to find it that Nancy thought he must have had a sudden attack of vertigo. She was sure of it when he finally lifted his crimson face.
“I think I have one pretty dress,” she said irrelevantly, looking into Jim’s eyes with just a ghost of a smile. “I think it would be nice to dress up a little. Don’t you?”
“I’m afraid I can’t,” muttered Jim. Then, once more, plucking up courage, he asked: “Can I have the first dance?”