He put his arm about her and drew her closer to him. "Eva, as you say, love could be the only result of our association; and now do you not know that there can be but one true result of our love?"
"Yes," she replied, "only one."
The neighbors soon decided to build Mrs. Forest another house. The building of a log house in the country is looked upon as a sort of holiday frolic, and there is no man in the immediate neighborhood too busy with his own affairs to lend a helping hand. The new house was built upon the same site, and after the same pattern as the old one.
Eva had, one day, just finished arranging her books, when Bob Juckels stepped upon the gallery.
"Hi," said he, as he reached into an adjoining room, drew out a chair and sat down.
"Mr. Juckels, I want you to go away from here," the girl replied.
She stood in the library door. He looked up at her, with an attempt at a smile, but with the result of an ugly grin.
"Pretty good house you got here. Woulder come over ter the raisin', but I didn't wanter meet Lucas, fur when I meet him, we're goin' ter mix. I'm me, let me tell you that." He took out a bottle of whisky, shook it, held it up, squinted at it and then took a drink. The girl was afraid of him. Her mother had gone over to a neighbor's house.
"Putty good house you've got here. Made outen green logs an' it won't burn ez easy ez the old one did. Say, did you tell Lucas that I had axed you ter marry me?"
"No; I dislike you so much that I do not mention your name to anyone."