So Polly had to be content in the kitchen. One day, having
finished her work two hours before dinnertime, she sauntered to
the front gate. How strange that Henry Peters should be at the
end of the field joining their land. When he waved, she waved
back. When he climbed the fence she opened the gate. They met
halfway, under the bloomful shade of a red haw. Henry wondered
who two men he had seen leaving the Holt gate were, and what they
wanted, but he was too polite to ask. He merely hoped they did
not annoy her. Oh, no, they were only some men to see Mother
about some business, but it was most kind of him to let her know
he was looking out for her. She got so lonely; Mother never would
let her go to the field with her. Of course not! The field was
no place for such a pretty girl; there was enough work in the
house for her. His sister should not work in the field, if he had
a sister, and Polly should not work there, if she belonged to him;
No-sir-ee! Polly looked at Henry with shining, young girl eyes,
and when he said she was pretty, her blue-gray eyes softened, her
cheeks pinked up, the sun put light in her hair nature had failed
to, and lo and behold, the marvel was wrought -- plain little
Polly became a thing of beauty. She knew it instantly, because
she saw herself in Henry Peters' eyes. And Henry was so amazed
when this wonderful transformation took place in little Polly,
right there under the red haw tree, that his own eyes grew big and
tender, his cheeks flooded with red blood, his heart shook him,
and he drew to full height, and became possessed of an
overwhelming desire to dance before Polly, and sing to her. He
grew so splendid, Polly caught her breath, and then she smiled on
him a very wondering smile, over the great discovery; and Henry
grew so bewildered he forgot either to dance or sing as a
preliminary. He merely, just merely, reached out and gathered
Polly in his arms, and held her against him, and stared down at
her wonderful beauty opening right out under his eyes.
"Little Beautiful!" said Henry Peters in a hushed, choking voice,
"Little Beautiful!"
Polly looked up at him. She was every bit as beautiful as he
thought her, while he was so beautiful to Polly that she gasped
for breath. How did he happen to look as he did, right under the
red haw, in broad daylight? He had been hers, of course, ever
since, shy and fearful, she had first entered Bates Corners
school, and found courage in his broad, encouraging smile. Now
she smiled on him, the smile of possession that was in her heart.
Henry instantly knew she always had belonged to him, so he grasped
her closer, and bent his head.