“Oh, she understands! Good morning, Jabez;” and she held out her hand to a tall loose-jointed lad, with a sunburnt, boyish, but very pleasant face, who had come up the hill from the meadow unseen by her.
“You look well,” said he, after a moment’s examination of her face.
“Thank you,” said Fidelia, laughing.
“I mean, you don’t look sick,” said he.
“Why should I? What have you been doing this winter?”
“I have been at school. We had a new teacher—a chap from Amherst—one who has to teach and pay his own way. Yes, I got along pretty well—studied hard, if you can believe it.”
“Well, what have you done?”
“Oh, a little Latin and history of the United States! I could pass on that now, I guess. And I’ve got through the first three books of Euclid, and in Algebra I got through quadratic equations.”
She had spoken in a cool, indifferent way, but his eyes sparkled as he looked up.
“Well done, Jabez! I am glad. I must examine you some day.”