He wondered how many "women-folk" the new mover had along, this being ever a vital question at that day.

The tall man on the wagon seat turned his face slowly back toward the interior of the wagon.
"What do you think, Lizzie ?" he asked.
"Dear me, William," came reply from the darkness in a somewhat complaining voice, "how can I tell?
It all seems alike to me.

You can judge better than I." "What do you say, niece ?" The person last addressed rested a hand upon the questioner's shoulder and lightly climbed out upon the seat by his side, stooping as she passed under the low bow of the cover frame.

She stood upright, a tall and gracious figure, upon the wagon floor in front of the seat, and shaded her eyes as she looked about her.

Her presence caused Sam to instinctively straighten up and tug at his open coat.