"Sh--!" Mrs. Blossom held up her finger; she heard Rose on the stairs. Chi looked up--his old Rose-pose stood before him: old, faded, green and white calico dress, old sunbonnet, patched shoes! Chi turned away abruptly to get his pails; and her mother wondered, but said nothing.
They found more than one "patch," where the berries hung in luscious clusters of shining jet. Chi pummelled his chest, and drew deep, deep breaths of the balsamic mountain air. "This sets a man up, Rose-pose; there ain't nothin' like the air on this Mountain for an all-round tonic. Let's sit here a spell, right by this sweet fern."
She pushed back the sunbonnet as she sat down beside him. "Tired, Chi?"
"No--rests me clear through just to sit 'n' look off onto those slopes, just about as green as in June."
They sat awhile in silence; then Chi turned and picked up the sunbonnet that had fallen from her head. He touched it gently.
"Remember the first time you sold berries in that rig, Rose-pose?"
The blood surged into Rose's face, and receded, leaving it strangely white. Chi felt his heart contract at the change, but he went on:
"First time Jack ever saw you was in that rig.--You ain't changed so much but he 'd know you again if he saw you in Chiny."
Still there was silence. Chi moistened his lips.
"Can't say as much for him; never saw such a change; he 's all fallen away to nothin' but skin and bones. Doctor Heath told me just before I left--'n' he put me aboard the train--that nothin' could set him up again but this Mountain air, 'n' good food, 'n'--" Chi paused; his mouth was uncomfortably dry. Rose's face was turned from him, but he saw a contraction of her delicate throat, as if a dry sob were suddenly suppressed. Then she spoke in a monotone: