torn between a desire to take the beloved Leander to his home and an obscure and nameless fear of having Leander lay eyes upon his sister Annie.
Leander did come to the house, not that day but another, one evening just after the long prairie sunset. Uriah was not there and Annie asked him in to await her brother's coming. The meeting disturbed them both, but in Leander's feelings there was no pity for Annie as there had been for Uriah. He was confused and frightened. For a long time now he had been aware of women, but he had never been aware of one woman, and there was something about this strange girl which seemed to be the apotheosis of all women. He watched her, afraid but fascinated, while she went quietly about her work in the kitchen, making polite and halting remarks about the weather or the corn or the sermon of the Reverend Mr. Simpson. It was all outwardly cold and meaningless and inwardly charged with disturbing things. Leander was aware of her in every nerve and muscle. Annie, watching him stealthily, was aware of a new beauty come into her life. Of late during the long walks by the river life had seemed to be opening like a flower, petal by petal, in a loveliness she had never suspected. And now came this beautiful young man with blue eyes and fair curling hair like an angel.
Uriah came at last, dark-browed and forbidding, and when Annie suggested that his friend stay to
