"Oh, but you are such a wonderful man, and to be such a young man!" She was not aware of the intimacy in her reference, and spoke thoughtfully, as if to herself more than to him.
He was flattered, and didn't know how to reply.
"You are certainly deserving of the high esteem in which you are held throughout the community," and still she was as if speaking to herself, and thoughtful.
He could not shut out at once the vanity she had aroused in him. He wished to appear and to feel modest about it, however. After all, he had most of the other land to pay for, which, nevertheless, gave him no worry. His confidence was supreme. He continued silent while she went on:
"It must be wonderful to be a young man and to be so courageous; to be so forceful and to be admired."
"Oh, you flatter me."
"No; I do not mean to. I am speaking frankly and what I feel. I admire the qualities you are possessed with. I read a great deal, and when I see a young man like you going ahead so in the world, I think he should be encouraged."
How very frankly, and considerately she had said it all. His vanity was gone. He saw her as the real Agnes. He saw in her, moreover, that which he had always longed for in his race. How much he would have given to have heard those words uttered by a girl of his blood on his trips back East. But, of course the West was foreign to them. They could not have understood as she did. But the kindness she had shown had its effect. He could at least admire her openly for what she was. He spoke now.
"I think you are very kind, Miss Stewart. I can't say when any one has spoken so sensibly to me as you have, and you will believe me when I say that such shall never be forgotten." He paused briefly before going on. "And it will always be my earnest wish that I shall prove worthy of such kind words." He stopped then, for in truth, he was too overcome with emotion, and could not trust himself to go on.
She stood with her back to him, and could he have seen her eyes he would also have observed tears of emotion. They were honest tears. She had spoken the truth. She admired the man in Jean Baptiste, and she had not thought of his color in speaking her conviction. But withal she felt strangely that her life was linked in some manner with this man's.