A love story bright with youthful enthusiasm, the freshness of outdoor life, and the charm of Southern girlhood. The heroine is as feminine and charming as the reader has a right to expect Miss Daviess' heroines to be. A rich young poet offers her the life she believes she most cares for--and she has to choose between him and a practical farmer.
hman year at college. As I looked across the lilac hedge, which was just beginning to show a green sap tint along its gray branches, I seemed to see my poor little blue-ginghamed, pigtailed self crouched at Judge Crittenden's feet on the front steps, sobbing my lonely heart away while he smoked his sorrow down with a long brier pipe, and the Byrd chirped his little three-year-old protest in concert with us both. Most eighteen-year-old men would have resented having a motherless little brother and a long-legged girl neighbor eternally at their heels, but Sam never had; or, if he did, he gently kicked the Byrd and me out of the way, and we never knew that was what he was doing. We even loved him for the kicks. Then as the tears misted across my eyes a woman with a baby in her arms came out and called in two children who were playing under the old willow-tree over by the side gate--the willow that had belonged to Sam and me--and my eyes dried themselves with indignant astonishment.
"Who are those people o