He had caught the free, fearless confidence of her leap over the wheel, and her graceful abandon as she stood there, finely erect and full-curved, her head with its Greek lines thrown well back, and her strong hands raised to readjust the dusky hair that tumbled about her head like a storm-cloud.
Men from the train were all about, and others from the settlement, and these spoke to her, some in serious greeting, some with jesting words.
She returned it all in good part without embarrassment,--even the sally of the winking wag who called out, "Now then, Mara Cavan! Here we are, and a girl like yourself ought to catch an Elder, at the very lowest." She laughed with easy good-nature, still fumbling in the dusk of blown hair at the back of her head, showing a full-lipped mouth, beautifully large, with strong-looking, white teeth.

"I'll catch never a one myself, if you please, Nathan Tanner! I'll do no catching at _all_, now! _I'm_ the one will have to be caught!" Her voice was a contralto, with the little hint of roughness that made it warm and richly golden; that made it fall, indeed, upon the ears of the listening Elder like a cathedral chime calling him to forget all and worship--forget all but that he was five and twenty with the hot blood surging and crowding and crying out in his veins.
Now, having a little subdued the tossing storm-cloud of hair, she stood with one hand upon her hip and the other shading her eyes, looking intently into the streets of the new settlement.

And again there was bantering jest from the men about, and the ready, careless response from her, with gestures of an impishly reckless unconcern, of a full readiness to give and take in easy good-fellowship.

But then, in the very midst of a light response to one of the bantering men, her gray eyes met for the first time the very living look of the young Elder standing near.

She was at once confused, breaking off her speech with an awkward laugh, and looking down.