She wondered why that seemed to make him love her more. She wondered a little, too, when on the edge of the pasture Timothy stood still, looking back.
"Liva!" he said, "don't the Pump pasture seem differ'nt? Don't it seem like another place?"
"Yes," Liva said, "it don't seem the same."
"Liva!" Timothy said again, "it ain't the pasture that's so differ'nt. It's us."
She laughed a little—softly, and very near his coat sleeve.
"I 'most knew that this afternoon," she answered.
VI THE FOND FORENOON
This morning Miggy came by appointment to do a little work for me, and she appeared in some "best" frock to honour the occasion. It was a blue silk muslin, cut in an antiquated style and trimmed with tarnished silver passementerie. In it the child was hardly less distinguished than she had been in her faded violet apron. It was impossible for her to seem to be unconscious of her dress, and she spoke of it at once with her fine directness.