and she did not see his heavy
"Oh-h, what a speech! Hasn’t that a pretty golden hue?" she asked, holding up a mass of the butter she was ladling from the churn into a wooden tray.
"Yes, you are making the gilt-edge article now. I don’t have to sell it to Tom Watterly any more."
"I’d like to give him some, though."
He was silent, and something like sudden rage burned in his heart that Mrs. Watterly would not permit the gift. That anyone should frown on his having such a helper as Alida was proving herself to be, made him vindictive. Fortunately her face was turned away, and she did not see his heavy frown. Then, to shield her from a disagreeable fact, he said quickly, "do you know that for over a year I steadily went behind my expenses . And that your butter making has turned the tide already? I’m beginning to get ahead again."
"I’m SO glad," and her face was radiant.
"Yes, I should know that from your looks. It’s clearer every day that I got the best of our bargain. I never dreamed, though, that I should enjoy your society as I do–that we should become such very good friends. That wasn’t in the bargain, was it?"
"Bargain!" The spirited way with which she echoed the word, as if thereby repudiating anything like a sordid side to their mutual relations, was not lost on her wondering and admiring partner. She checked herself suddenly. "Now let me teach YOU how to make butter," and with the tray in her lap, she began washing the golden product and pressing out the milk.
He laughed in a confused delighted way at her piquant, half saucy manner as he watched her deft round arm and shapely hand.
"The farmers’ wives in Oakville would say your hands were too little to do much."
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