This was a sort of invitation which Roxy Griever could not refuse, and the courting couples were spared her surveillance for a little longer. "Callista," Lance began abruptly, when they were out of earshot of those in the front room, "I raised the roof-beams of my cabin to-day--two big rooms and a porch between, with a cooking place for summer. Ain't that about right?" Callista looked toward the other room uneasily. She had no audience now--how should she act, how demean herself so as to seem indifferent? Lance's undecipherable, clear hazel eyes were on [36] her; they rested carelessly in what seemed a passing glance; yet at the back of that regard looked out a demand which she could scarcely comprehend. "I--I don't know," she faltered. "Lance, won't you please lift that there coffee off o' the fire? It's boiled enough." Lance bent lithely to the hearth and did her bidding. "I've got me two horses now," he said in the same even undertone. "I matched Satan with a little black filly that Derf brought over from the Far Cove neighborhood. They're jest of a size, and they step together like a couple of gals with their arms around each other's waists. Derf said the filly was named Cindy; but I call her Sin--how do you like that?--Satan and Sin?" "Well, I think it sounds right wicked, if you ask me," Callista plucked up courage to say. "But I don't reckon you care whether I like it or not." Lance shook his head and smiled. "Nope," he agreed easily. Then he added, "Havin' two horses helps out a good deal. I've been doing haulin' on Derf's contract. I'll have a right smart of money left, even after my house is all done. There'll be a-plenty laid up by next spring; and I'm goin' to put in the winter clearing land. I reckon we'll be good ready by April." By April! A sweet perturbation took possession [37] of Callista's breast. She dared not raise her eyes lest he should read in them what she yet jealously sought to conceal. He was not like the other boys; with all the raillery and badinage that went on between them--famous in their circle; with all the unusual parade, in the open play of courtship, he had never really approached her as a lover, never laid his hand on her in tenderness, nor offered her a caress, save as a public, saucy threat. Nor had he asked for her, as the mountain phrase goes; but surely now he meant her to understand that he expected to be married in the spring. If only he would ask her--if only! She had always meant--if she dared--to refuse him--at least the first time; to reluctantly give in under repeated importunities--but that was past. With her heart beating in her throat, she made shift to say, "I hope you'll be better to your horses than most of the men that hauls. I do love a good horse."