There, in an opening, lay a bank of
violets, springing in the sun. Their blue was a challenge to the skyey
blue above; it pierced the sight, awaking new longings and strange
memories. It seemed to Letty as if some invisible finger touched her on
the heart and made her pause. Then David turned, smiling kindly upon
her, and she ran to him with a little cry, and put her arms about his
neck.
"What is it?" he asked, stroking her hair with a gentle hand. "What is
it, little child?"
"Oh, it's nothin'!'" said Letty chokingly. "It's only--I like you so!"
The halting thought had no purple wherein to clothe itself; but it
meant as much as if she had read the poets until great words had become
familiar, and she could say "love." He was the spring day, the sun, the
blue of the sky, the quiver of leaves; and she felt it, and had a pain
at her heart.
Now, on an autumn morning, David was standing within the great space in
front of the barn, greasing the wheels preliminary to a drive to
market; and Letty stood beside him, bareheaded, her breakfast dishes
forgotten. She was a round thing, with quick movements not ordinarily
belonging to one so plump; her black hair was short, and curled
roughly, and there were freckles on her little snub nose.
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