A sudden flush passed over her face, and she lifted the brimming pail from her head and placed it on the fence.
"Depends on what you mean by that, Mr. Ed'ards, hopin' you'll take no offence a-talkin' so plain."
"I mean you ain't a-goin' ter hold up fer him ag'in everybody else, an' pester yer ma an' pa."
Her lips trembled; she looked at her father.
"Pa knows I ain't a-meanin' ter pester him."
"Yes, honey, we know that," he said, her appealing glance melting his heart to tenderness at once. When had he ever failed to respond to her joy or sorrow?
"Now, that's Pink, an' Sile Jill, an' Bill Sanders, an'—"
"Don't be a-namin' Bill Sanders ter me, Mr. Ed'ards, if yer please," she exclaimed quickly.
"But it ain't fair ter be a-blamin' him fer Tom Fannin's fault, Betsy," shaking his head reprovingly.
"How kin I help it, Mr. Ed'ards, when I feel an' know that in some way or other he's the cause o' it?" she cried, with a passionate tremor in her voice. "It ain't a-hurtin' nobody fer me ter b'lieve in Tom, spite o' everything, an' please don't ax me not to, fer I must; I can't help it."