Still, old as she seemed to be, she walked
alertly, with the swinging grace of the true mountain woman. She was
very plainly dressed in a one-piece gown of dark calico. Her head was
not covered at all, and the white hair took on a tinge of gold from
the distant campfire. Her black eyes were sharp, yet kindly in
expression.
"Good evening, mother," Ned said, removing his cap as he greeted the
old lady, "we didn't expect to meet ladies here. Do you live in this
locality?"
"Quite a step," the old lady said, in a gentle, hesitating tone,
"quite a bit down the slope is where I live. I wanted to know what
the fire meant, and so I came up. You don't mind my being here, do
you?"
"Glad to have you come!" Ned responded, truthfully. "If you care to
come up to our camp we'll be glad to give you a cup of tea and
whatever else you want."
"I'll be glad to get a cup of tea" the woman declared. "We don't get
tea up here in the mountains--not very often. We don't have the money
to pay for it, and, then it is such a long way to go after it. Yes,
I'll go with you."
Ned noted that the woman did not speak the dialect of the mountains.
He wondered how long she had lived there, and if she lived alone. She
did not long leave him in doubt on these points, for she seemed
anxious to talk.
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