“I’m thirteen,” Elizabeth said, but then she scrutinized the child in front of her.  “You don’t look big enough for ten.  I would have thought you were no more than seven or eight.”

This seemed to embarrass the young Christina and she jammed her now empty hands into the front pockets of her overalls.  “Oh well, my mama was sick when she carried me.  I got born a few weeks early.  But my daddy’s not a big fellow either so I guess I’m just meant to be little, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” was all the older girl said, and she went back to her book.

After a moment the child reached into her back pocket of her overalls and pulled out a small thin book and offered it up to the woman.  “Thank you, Miss Miriam.  I enjoyed this one.”

“I’m glad to hear that.  I’ve picked out a few others for you.  Come on in and meet my brother, Melvin, while I fetch them for you,” Miriam offered.

“Oh no’am.  My feet are plenty dirty.  I’d best not track mud on your rugs and floors,” the child pointed out.

“Alright.  Let me get them for you then,” the woman said and she went back inside.

Now standing awkwardly on the porch, the little girl observed the pretty one more closely.  She watched as the dark eyes tracked along as she was read silently to herself.  Saw how the lips twitched a little, pursed and then relaxed.  She was thinking that it seemed logical for Miss Miriam to have such a beautiful niece, for Christina found the gentle librarian to be one of the most beautiful women in her entire small universe of the little town of Athens, Tennessee.

“So what you got there?” Christina tried to engage the aloof girl.

“A book.”

“What’s it ‘bout?”

“It’s Wuthering Heights.  It’s Emily Brontë’s first and only novel.”

“Oh.  Ain’t heard of it.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“So what’s the title mean ‘weathered heights’?”

The older girl snickered.  “Wuthering…the word is wuthering, not weathered.”

“Ah.  Okay.  I don’t know that word.”

“Again, I’m not surprised.”

The child blushed a little, recognizing the put down, but knowing that the yankee girl was her better, she didn’t bother to respond.

Just then the screen door swung open and Miriam ushered out a tall handsome man who smiled and offered a hand.  “Hello Christina.  I’m Melvin, Bette’s father.  My sister tells me you are quite a help around here for her.  It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”