“He’s be’n a-pesterin’ me fer nea’ly two months—an’ I hate him wuss than a rattlesnake,” she flamed.
“He won’t pester yo’ any more, sis,” said Jed grimly, and laid a caressing arm across her shoulders.
Mellie moved out of the shadows into the moonlight and instantly Jed’s arm fell to his side. He stared at her in dumb surprise. The thin, awkward child of angles he had left had gone forever, and in her place stood a graceful creature of pliant curves. Never had he seen so sweet and lovable a face as the one upturned to him with such frank confidence. No need to question his heart. He had loved her as a child, as a woman he loved her still. That first, long look surprised the truth from them both, made it clear first to themselves and then to each other.
Mrs. Chunn came out from the wide gallery to the porch and peered into the night. Two figures were moving slowly toward the house along the cedar shadowed path.
“Mellie, is that you?”
“Yes, Maw.”
“Who’s that with you?”
“It’s me, Mother. I’ve come home—to stay.”
A sudden joy flashed into the hard eyes of the mother, but she instantly hid her tenderness as if it had been a vice.