All her life had been a long training in that thrift which utilised everything for family gain.

She was a thorough woman of society, this girl who sat in her backwoods cottage selling beer.
She looked at the boy, and a sudden glow of sensibility appeared in her face.

"Oh, David!" she said; "I thought it was Christa." "But it isn't Christa," he stammered, grinning.

He was hugely pleased with the idea that she had accepted his declaration of courtship.
Half an hour later and Ann had the secret of the new track through the north of the drowned forest, and Brown had the wit not to ask her what she wanted to do with it.

He had done more--he had offered to row her boat for her, but this Ann had refused.
It was a curious thing, this refusal.