“And you—­you want to be different, Nella-Rose?”

“I—­why, can’t you see?—­I am different.”

“Of course.  I only meant—­do you like to be different.”

“I have to like it.  I was born with a cawl.”

“In heaven’s name, what’s that?”

“Something over your eyes, and when they take it off you see more, and farther, than any one else.  You’re part ha’nt.”

Truedale wiped his forehead—­the room was getting hot, but the heat alone was not responsible for his emotions; he was being carried beyond his depth—­beyond himself—­by the wild fascination of the little creature before him.  He would hardly have been surprised had a draught of air wafted her out of the window like a bit of mountain mist.

“But you mustn’t interrupt so much!” She turned a stern face upon him.  “I ran away that time to see a—­railroad train!  One of the niggers told me about it—­he said it was the Bogy Man.  I wanted to know, so I went to the station.  It’s a right smart way down and I had to sleep one night under the trees.  Don’t the stars look starry sometimes?”

The interruption made Truedale jump.

“They certainly do,” he said, looking at the soft, dark eyes with their long lashes.

“I wasn’t afraid—­and I didn’t hurry.  It was evening, and the sun just a-going down, when I got to the station.  There wasn’t any one about so I—­I ran down the big road the train comes on—­to meet it.  And then” (here Nella-Rose clasped her hands excitedly and her breath came short), “and then I saw it a-coming and a-coming.  The big fire-eye a-glaring and the mighty noise a-snorting and I reckoned it was old Master Satan and I just—­couldn’t move!”

“Go on! go on!” Truedale bent close to her—­she had caught him in the mesh of her dramatic charm.

“I saw it a-coming, and set on—­on devouring o’ me, and still I couldn’t stir.  Everything was growing black and black except a big square with that monster eye a-glaring into the soul o’ me!”

The girl’s face was set—­her eyes vacant and wild; suddenly they softened, and her little white teeth showed through the childish, parted lips.

“Then the eye went away, there was a blackness in the square place, and then a face came—­a kind face it was—­all a-laughing and it—­it kept going farther and farther off to one side and I kept a-following and a-following and then—­the big noise went rushing by me, and there I was right safe and plump up against a tree!”

“Good Lord!” Again Truedale wiped his brow.

“Since then,” Nella-Rose relaxed, “I can shut my eyes and always there is the black square and sometimes—­not always, but sometimes—­things come!”

“The face, Nella-Rose?”

“No, I can’t make that come.  But things I want to, do and have.  I always think, when I see things, that I’m going to do a big, fine thing some day.  I feel upperty and then—­poof! off go the pictures and I am just—­lil’ Nella-Rose again!”