Gradually Jed
came to enjoy seeing her there, to see the windows of the old house
open, to hear voices once more on that side of the shop, and to
catch glimpses of Babbie dancing in and out over the shining mica
slab at the door.
He liked the child when he first met her, but he had been a little
fearful that, as a neighbor, she might trouble him by running in
and out of the shop, interfering with his privacy and his work or
making a small nuisance of herself when he was waiting on
customers. But she did none of these things, in fact she did not
come into the shop at all and, after the first week had passed, he
began to wonder why. Late that afternoon, seeing her sitting on
the bench by the bluff edge, her doll in her arms, he came out of
the door of his little kitchen at the back of the shop and called
her.
"Good evenin'," he hailed. "Takin' in the view, was you?"
She bobbed her head. "Yes, sir," she called in reply; "Petunia and
I were looking at it."
"Sho! Well, what do you and-er--What's-her-name think of it?"
Barbara pondered. "We think it's very nice," she announced, after
a moment. "Don't you like it, Mr. Winslow?"
"Eh? Oh, yes, I like it, I guess. I ain't really had time to look
at it to-day; been too busy."
The child nodded, sympathetically. "That's too bad," she said.
Jed had, for him, a curious impulse, and acted upon it.
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