"Do you care as much as that?" She laid her
palms upon his shoulders, lifting her face to his:
"Then we will do what you say, we will go, yes, we
will go immediately. You can hitch up the buggy,
while I get a little thing or two. I have my beads,
and the bracelets that were mother's... I wish
my white organdie was here. You mustn't think
I'm silly! You see -- marriage, for a girl... I
thought it would all be so different. But, Gordon
dear, we won't let you be unhappy."

He wished silently to God that she would get the
stuff in the house, that they would get started. At
any minute now word would come of the old man's
death, there would be delay, Lettice would learn that
he had lied again and again to her. With a gesture
of impatience he dislodged her hands from his
shoulders. "Where's Sim?" he demanded.

"In the long field. I'll show you the stable; it
won't take me a minute to get ready."

He hitched, in an incredibly short space of time,
a tall, ungainly roan horse into the buggy; his practised
hands connected the straps, settled the headstall,
the collar, as if by magic. He stood in a fever
of uneasiness at the harnessed head. Lettice was
longer than she had indicated.

When, at last, she appeared, she carried a neatly
pinned paper bundle, and a fragrant mass of hastily
pulled roses. Bright blue glass beads hung over the

[[144]]

p143 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p144w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p145

v?