Peg's Visit

"Bring the stool," said he, "an' sit here."

Languidly she sank down, resting against him. She was very tired besides being very unhappy. Lafe placed two fingers under her chin, lifting her face to his. Her eyes were full of tears, and she no longer tried to conceal her suffering. The cobbler remained quiet while she cried softly. At last: "It's Maudlin Bates, ain't it, darlin'?" he asked.

"No, Lafe."

"Can't you tell your friend what 'tis?"

"I guess I'm crying because I'm foolish, dear," she replied.

"No, that's not true, Jinnie. I feel as bad seeing you cry's if 'twas Peggy."

This was a compliment, and Jinnie tried to sit up bravely, but a friendly hand held her close.

"Just begin, an' the rest'll come easy," Lafe insisted.

Jinnie's tongue refused to talk, and of a sudden she grew ashamed and dropped her scarlet face.

"I don't believe I can tell it, Lafe dear," she got out.

"Something about a man?"

Jinnie nodded.

"Then I got to know! Tell me!" he directed.

His insistence drew forth a tearful confession.

"Before Mr. King spoke about the school, he asked me to go a day in the country with my fiddle, and I couldn't."

After the telling, she caught her breath and hid her face.

"Why?" Lafe demanded. "Why couldn't you?"

Jinnie raised startled eyes to the cobbler's for the better part of a minute. What did he mean? Was it possible---"I thought you wouldn't let me----"