He took the pails from her
hand, and they went to the house together.

The milk was carried into the kitchen where Mrs. Duke was busy with pots
and pans. Mr. Duke was before the mirror, giving the finishing touches
to his hair. He was dressed for meeting. As he heard rather than saw his
daughter enter, he asked:

"Carlia, have you swilled the pigs?"

"Not yet," she replied.

"Well, don't forget--and say, you'd better give a little new milk to the
calf. It's not getting along as well as it should--and, if you have time
before meetin', throw a little hay to the horses."

"All right, father, I'll see to all of it. As I'm not going to meeting,
I'll have plenty of time."

"Not goin'?" He turned, hair brush in hand, and saw Dorian. "Hello,
Dorian," he greeted, "you're quite a stranger. You'll come along to
meetin' with Carlia, I suppose. We will be late if we don't hurry."

"Father, I told you I'm not going. I--" she hesitated as if not quite
certain of her words--"I had to chase all over the hills for the cows,
and I'm not through milking yet. Then there are the pigs and the calves
and the horses to feed. But I'll not keep Dorian. You had better go with
father"--this to the young man who still stood by the kitchen door.

"Leave the rest of the chores until after meetin'," suggested the
father, somewhat reluctantly, to be sure, but in concession to Dorian's
presence.

"I can't go to meeting either," said Dorian. "I'm not dressed for it, so
I'll keep Carlia company, if you or she have no objections."

"Well, I've no objections, but I don't like you to miss your meetin's."

"We'll be good," laughed Dorian.

"But--"

"Come, father," the mother prompted, "you know I can't walk fast in this
hot weather."

Carlia got another pail, and she and Dorian went back to the corral.

"Let me milk," offered Dorian.

"No; you're strange, and she'd kick you over the fence."

"O, I guess not," he remarked; but he let the girl finish her milking.
He again carried the milk back; he also took the "slop" to the pigs and
threw the hay to the horses, while the girl gave the new milk to the
butting calf; then back to the house where they strained the milk. Then
the young man was sent into the front room while the girl changed from
work to Sunday attire.

The front room was very hot and uncomfortable. The young man looked
about on the familiar scene. There were the same straight-backed chairs,
the same homemade carpet, more fade