The Mountain Girl by Emma Payne Erskine Chapter 11 Page 21

She stopped and put her hand to her throat, as her way was. She too had grown white with the ache of sorrowful remembrance. He thought it cruel to urge her, but felt impelled to ask for more.

“And then?”

“Yes. One day we were all alone sitting right here in the loom shed door. He put one hand on my head, and then he put the other hand under my chin and turned my face to look in his eyes — so great and far — like they could see through your heart. Seems like I can feel the touch of his hand here yet and hear him say: ‘Little daughter, never be like the rest. Be separate, and God will send for you some day here on the mountain. He will send for you on the mountain top. He will compass you about and lift you up and you shall be blessed.’ Then he