Evidently she was the boy of the family and to her fell the duty of performing the innumerable chores of the ranch, for her hands were thick with work and the tips of the fingers blunted.
Also she had that calm, self-satisfied eye which belongs to the workingman who knows that he has earned his meal.
Her sister monopolized all the beauty and the grace, not that she was either very pretty or extremely graceful, but she was instinct with the challenge of femininity like a rare scent.

It lingered about her, it enveloped her ways; it gave a light to her eyes and made her smile exquisite.

Her clothes were not of much finer material than her sister's, but they were cut to fit, and a bow of crimson ribbon at her throat was as effective in that environment as the most costly orchids on an evening gown.
She was armed in pride this night, talking only to her mother, and then in monosyllables alone.

At first it occurred to Steve that his coming had made her self-conscious, but he soon discovered that her pride was directed at the third man at the table.

She at least maintained a pretence of eating, but he made not even a sham, sitting miserably, his mouth hard set, his eyes shadowed by a tremendous frown.