“There has been no change here since the Indians went away. If thee will look across the road thee can see the ground is strewed with the bits of shells from their feasts.”
He went to the window, and again remarked to himself, “This is the place for me.”
“Could you,” he asked, going toward her, “let me stay with you a while?”
“Did thee come to the Marsh End station this morning?”
“Yes; my valise is there.”
“Thy parents are rich?”
“I have none.”
“Thee has been well cared for, though.”
“I have not left home because of any—” Misfortune, he was about to say, but that did not seem to be the right word; so he tried to think of something else to say. She saw his embarrassment, and said, quickly,
“I never have harbored a stranger; but if Peter likes, he may take thee.”