He changed color when he saw "the city gal," as he invariably termed Hilda, and he answered sullenly, "Gitt'n someth'n for Uncle." "That is not true," said Hildegarde, quietly, "I have heard your uncle expressly forbid you to go near that desk.

Put those papers back!" The man hesitated, his little, ferret eyes shifting uneasily from her to the desk and back again.

"I guess I ain't goin' to take orders from no gal!" he muttered, huskily.
"Put those papers back!" repeated Hildegarde sternly, with a sudden light in her gray eyes which made the rascal step backward and thrust the papers hurriedly into the drawer.

After which he began to bluster, as is the manner of cowards.

"Pooty thing, city gals comin' hectorin' round with their airs an'-- " "Shut the drawer!" said Hildegarde, quietly.
But Simon's sluggish blood was warmed by his little bluster, and he took courage as he reflected that this was only a slight girl, and that no one else was in the house except "Old Marm," and that many broad meadows intervened between him and the farmer's stout arm.