Her blue eyes shone, her hair blew about in golden-brown tendrils, her delicate skin was flushed.
"I'm proud you come in," he said, "and the women on the hill, they'll be proud, and everybody will, for now we can have a sight more singing and good times. Not that we hain't had 'em ever sence they come," he added.
"It must be very nice," she said.
"Hit beats anything ever was heared of. You see, the young folks in this country never seed no pleasure before, less'n hit was mean pleasure. We never knowed there was right pleasure. Them women don't fully sense what they're a-doing for us."
"I'm crazy to help them, and to see everything, and meet everybody. Life must be very interesting up here. I've read a lot, of course, about the feuds, and Uncle Adam tells me there is actually one right here on Troublesome Creek. Is that so?"
The young man flashed a searching glance into her face before replying, carelessly, "There has been some little trouble in past times."
"Do you know any of the people who carried it on?"
"Yes," he replied, indifferently.
"I do hope I shall meet them," she said; "it seems so romantic; just like living hundreds of years ago in The Scottish Chiefs, or some other old tale."
"War's bad, wherever you take hit," he remarked; "but sometimes hit's necessary. I seed something of hit down in Cuby year before last—though, of course, that wasn't much of a fight."