The eyes that looked up into Seth’s face were candidly inquiring. There was not a shadow of a smile on the man’s face when he answered.
“I’ve a notion you have few equals with a hoe.”
“Ah, that’s always the way of folks wi’ real talent. Guess you’re an eddication with a hoe.”
Seth went on with his work until Rosebud spoke again. She was looking away out across the prairie, and her eyes were just a trifle troubled.
“Then I’d best get my things changed and—bring out a hoe. How many rows do you think I could do before tea?”
“That mostly depends on how many p’tater plants git in your way, I guess.”
The girl’s face suddenly wreathed itself in smiles.
“There, you’re laughing at me, and—well, I was going to help you, but now I shan’t. I’ve been down to see my Wanaha. Seth, you ought to have married her. She’s the sweetest creature—except Ma—I know. I think it’s a pity she married Nevil Steyne. He’s a queer fellow. I never know what to make of him. He’s kind to her, and he’s kind to me—which I’m not sure I like—but I somehow don’t like his eyes. They’re blue, and I don’t like blue eyes. And I don’t believe he ever washes. Do you?”
Seth replied without pausing in his work. He even seemed to put more force into it, for the hoe cut into the earth with a vicious ring. But he avoided her direct challenge.