There was no intimation of coquetry in the remark; merely simple fact. But the words wrought a miracle in the face of the man beside her.
“Do you like it that much?” he demanded eagerly.
“I love it!”
“Miss Webster has a fine place,” ventured Martin at length.
“Both of them are fine old places.”
He nodded.
“But yours has been kept up better than 186 ours,” continued Lucy. “You see, Aunt Ellen isn’t strong like a man; and besides, she hasn’t studied into new ways of doing things as you have. That’s the interesting part of farming, I think, to use your brains and make two things grow where only one grew before. If I were a man——”
She broke off, embarrassed by her own girlish enthusiasm.
“What would you do?” inquired Martin eagerly.
“I’d do with our farm what you’ve done with yours. I’d get new tools, and I’d find out how to use them. It would be fascinating. But a woman can’t——”