She gave him one addressed to the editors of ——, which contained the manuscript of some verses—“The Heart of Things”—the first of her published poems. She offered the loan of the old mule, saying: “It’s more than twelve miles; will you be back tonight?”
“Yes, I’m traveling light; twenty-four miles is a mere stroll; and I shall return, much as I imagine the old mule would, at a brisker gait, because I’m coming home.”
She said nothing more; being surprised by Sandy’s speech, which had suddenly dropped the mountain idiom.
When night came she sat on the porch until after nine o’clock, then she went to her room, fearful that if Sandy should come and find her there he might misunderstand; might think she had been waiting—but the idea, that’s impossible. She tried to read, she had not read much lately, she was not in the mood; blew out the lamp—and just afterward the gate opened; and she heard him enter the house and go to his room.
She spent most of the following day until late afternoon in her bower under the great vine; then went for a walk along the path which skirted the left bank of the creek, the way of the foot-traveler, to avoid repeated fordings, necessary if one followed the road.
Along the path were scattered scraps of letter paper and a little further on she saw an empty envelope from the War Department, addressed to Captain William L. Blair. When she returned, she asked Simeon: “Who is Captain William L. Blair?”
[pg 62] “I don’t know no Captain Blair. Sandy’s name is William Lees Blair, but everybody calls him Sandy. O! I saw that name the other day on a letter he brought back from Big Creek—‘Captain William L. Blair, U. S. A.’—the letter had been sent him from Coblenz, Germany. Do you reckon Sandy was a captain?”
Jeannette began to suspect that Sandy might be amusing himself at their expense. At supper she was formally courteous; she first thought of calling him Captain Blair, but changed her mind and addressed him as Mr. Blair.
When the supper dishes had been put away and the chores done, all of them sat upon the porch until Simeon announced it was his bedtime; when he and his family retired.
“Jeannette, will you give me a lesson on the fiddle?”