He twisted about, facing the valley. It was deep in grass, watered with streams like twisting shining ribbons, and held a sleek slow-grazing herd of cattle. The care of the latter, a part of Senator Alderwith's wide possessions, was to form Calvin's main occupation--for the present anyhow. Calvin Stammark had larger plans for his future with Hannah. Some day he would own the Alderwith pastures at his back and be grazing his own steers. His thoughts returned to Hannah, and he rose and proceeded to where a saddled horse was tied beside the road. He ought to go back to Greenstream and fix up before seeing her; but with their home all built, his impatience to be with her was greater than his sense of propriety, and he put his horse at a sharp canter to the left. Calvin continued down the valley until the road turned toward the range and an opening which he followed into a steeper and narrower rift beyond. Here there were no clearings in the rocky underbrush until he reached Richmond Braley's land. A long upturning sweep ended at the house, directly against the base of the mountain; and without decreasing his gait he passed over the faintly traced way, by the triangular sheep washing and shearing pen, to the stabling shed. Hannah's mother was bending fretfully over the kitchen stove, and Richmond, her father, was drawing off sodden leather boots. He was a man tall and bowed, stiff but still powerful, with a face masked in an unkempt tangle of beard. “H'y, Calvin,” he cried; “you're just here for spoon licking! Lucy was looking for company.” Mrs. Braley's comment was below her breath, but it was plainly no corroboration of her husband's assurance. “You'll find Hannah in the front of the house,” Richmond added. Hannah was sitting on the stone steps at the side entrance to the parlor. As usual she had a bright bow in the hair streaming over her back, and her feet were graceful in slippers with thin black stockings. She kissed him willingly and studied him with wide-opened hazel-brown eyes. There wasn't another girl in Greenstream, in Virginia, with Hannah's fetching appearance, he decided with a glow of adoration. She had a--a sort of beauty entirely her own; it was not exactly prettiness, but a quality far more disturbing, something a man could never forget. “She's done,” he told her abruptly. “What?” Hannah gazed up at him with a dim sweetness in the gathering dusk. “What!” he mocked her. “You ought to be ashamed to ask. Why, the house--our home. We could move in by a week if we were called to. We can get married any time.” She now looked away from him, her face still and dreaming. “You don't seem overly anxious,” Calvin declared. “It's just the idea,” she replied. “I never thought of it like this before--right on a person.” She sighed. “Of course it will be nice, Calvin.”