There she borrowed a hand-car; it was a light one that could be worked easily by two men, and Zilda determined to work it alone.

While she was coming back along the iron road on the top of the narrow embankment, Gilby could see her from where he sat--a stalwart young woman in homespun gown, stooping and rising with regular toilsome movement as she worked the rattling machine that came swiftly nearer.
When the carriage thus provided for him was close at hand, the almost breathless Zilda actually proposed to exert her strength to carry Gilby up to it.

He insisted upon hopping on one foot supported by her arm; he did not feel the slightest inclination to lean upon her more than was needful, he was too self-conscious and proud.

Even after she had placed him on the car, he kept up an air of offence for a long time just because she had proved her strength to be so much greater than his own.
His little rudenesses of this sort did not disturb Zilda's tranquillity in the least.
Gilby sat on the low platform of the hand-car.

He looked like a bantam cock whose feathers were much ruffled.