His heart thumped wildly in that instant. Each time he saw Belle-Ann he vowed mentally that she was more beautiful than before. The sight of her invariably threw him into a state of nervous flurry, and drove from his mind the pretty things he had previously decided to say to her. Small wonder then that he stood abashed before her. Never in all his travels had he seen her equal. "Yo' wusn't jest a lookin' fo' me--eh--Belle-Ann?" he managed to say awkwardly. She scanned him deprecatingly. "No--I jest wusn't," she agreed. "Th' boys hain't home, Orlick," she added pointedly, seating herself upon an inverted wagon-bed near by. Orlick sauntered over and sat down, too, now regaining his poise. "I didn't know I wus comin', either--till a short spell 'fore I started," he said tentatively. Belle-Ann eyed the horse, now standing under a poplar, too tired to crop. "Yo' must hev started frum th' ocean, didn't yo'?" she asked, with a gesture toward the animal. "Aw--he's soft, Belle-Ann. I 'lowed I'd rest em up a bit--till th' boys cum," he ended lamely. "Why don't yo'-all buy a mountain hoss? Thes hoss wasn't cut out fo' thes country," observed Belle-Ann. "Mabby hit's 'cause I hain't aimin' t' stay in thes country, Belle-Ann." She shot a quick look at him. He met her eyes and noted a glint of suspicion in them, so he hurried to forestall any utterance in reference to his mysterious sojourns the past two years. "Yo' see, I'm layin' off t' git married, Belle-Ann," he explained, watching her oval features narrowly; "an' when I do, I 'low t' settle down below, whar th' folks stan's t' give a honest man a chanst." Belle-Ann turned wondering eyes upon him. She had never before heard anything coming from Orlick but arrogant self-praise; hence she marveled at his meek voice and doleful aspect. "Whut makes yo' look so sorry--air yo're gal so powerful ugly?" Try as she would, she could not restrain a sudden burst of mirth, and she laughed outright. Now, if Belle-Ann's accents were soothing and captivating in speech, verily, her laugh rivaled the rippling sweetness of the lute. It trailed across Orlick's mood like a tonic and fired his face with a hot flush of anticipation. "Ugly!" he ejaculated--"ugly--no, Belle-Ann. She air th' all-fired'st purttiest gal in all Kentucky--an' she hain't fer away, either, I 'low!" Saying this, he came perilously near to overrunning the ethics of the mountains and seizing her in his arms and smothering her with his kisses. With an effort he restrained himself. His vehement words had startled her. She scrutinized his countenance keenly. What she saw brought the hot blood to her cheeks and left no doubt in her mind as to the significance of his eulogy and his impassioned eyes. His look was an insult. She rose and tossed the elf-curls back from her dimpled face. Orlick sat a moment speechless, his mouth open, and studied the graceful length of her back.