“I was a-layin' flat right thar and I seed you comin' down thar. My, but you looked funny to me! You don't now,” she added hastily. “You look mighty nice to me now--!” “You're a little rascal,” said Hale, “that's what you are.” The little girl bubbled with laughter and then she grew mock-serious. “No, I ain't.” “Yes, you are,” he repeated, shaking his head, and both were silent for a while. June was going to begin her education now and it was just as well for him to begin with it now. So he started vaguely when he was mounted again: “June, you thought my clothes were funny when you first saw them--didn't you?” “Uh, huh!” said June. “But you like them now?” “Uh, huh!” she crooned again. “Well, some people who weren't used to clothes that people wear over in the mountains might think THEM funny for the same reason--mightn't they?” June was silent for a moment. “Well, mebbe, I like your clothes better, because I like you better,” she said, and Hale laughed. “Well, it's just the same--the way people in the mountains dress and talk is different from the way people outside dress and talk. It doesn't make much difference about clothes, though, I guess you will want to be as much like people over here as you can--” “I don't know,” interrupted the little girl shortly, “I ain't seed 'em yit.” “Well,” laughed Hale, “you will want to talk like them anyhow, because everybody who is learning tries to talk the same way.” June was silent, and Hale plunged unconsciously on. “Up at the Pine now you said, 'I SEED you when I was A-LAYIN on the edge of the cliff'; now you ought to have said, 'I SAW you when I was LYING--'” “I wasn't,” she said sharply, “I don't tell lies--” her hand shot from his waist and she slid suddenly to the ground. He pulled in his horse and turned a bewildered face. She had lighted on her feet and was poised back above him like an enraged eaglet--her thin nostrils quivering, her mouth as tight as a bow-string, and her eyes two points of fire. “Why--June!” “Ef you don't like my clothes an' the way I talk, I reckon I'd better go back home.” With a groan Hale tumbled from his horse. Fool that he was, he had forgotten the sensitive pride of the mountaineer, even while he was thinking of that pride. He knew that fun might be made of her speech and her garb by her schoolmates over at the Gap, and he was trying to prepare her--to save her mortification, to make her understand. “Why, June, little girl, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. You don't understand--you can't now, but you will. Trust me, won't you? _I_ like you just as you are. I LOVE the way you talk. But other people--forgive me, won't you?” he pleaded. “I'm sorry. I wouldn't hurt you for the world.”