For a time Eyllen walked by her father's side, carrying her basket of luncheon, but as the trail narrowed she led the way, restraining her haste as best she could (for she was impatient to be at her ledges) lest she should tire her father before their walk was ended.
Several times they halted to rest. As yet her father saw no reason for hurrying. To loiter, to rest upon the hillside and chat in the sunshine was what he liked; and here was his daughter fleet-footed and strong, almost hurriedly leading him far into the valley between the hills as though bent on some mission.
Where could she be going?
"Are you sure you know where you go, daughter? And that you will not get us lost in the mountains? I have never before been so far from the settlement in this direction, and we cannot hear the church bell ring, eh, Eyllen?"
"No, Father, we care nothing for hearing the church bells now," laughed the girl, "and as for losing ourselves, it is impossible, as I have many times rambled over and through these hills. I know each rock as large as my head, and I will show you some presently much larger and more beautiful, as you are sure to agree with me."
"Rocks are not beautiful, child. I thought it was blossoms you wanted to show me."
"So it is, but on our return. We have reached the place I wanted to show you, Father. Sit upon this mound while I fetch a cup of water from the spring," and the girl ran a few steps farther.
Returning with the water she said briskly, "now we will eat our lunch while we rest and talk, for I have a little story to tell you in the meantime," and the hands at the basket trembled a trifle.
A cloth was spread upon the ground, and the basket's contents turned out upon it. There was the bottle of buttermilk which Eyllen declared she would not carry home again, as it might be changed into butter by that time, and she urged her father to drink it and eat heartily.
"But the story, Eyllen, the story! What is it you will tell me? I doubt not 'tis some island-lover business, or a new gown you will politely ask for when your father's appetite is quieted, as is the way of many keen women, eh, little girl?" said Michaelovitz giving his daughter's pink right ear a gentle tweak.