ked as if she was cryin'."

But Mary got her bonnet and started out.

"Where are you going to, Mary?" asked her mother, starting up nervously.

"I'm going across to Buckolts' to find out the truth," said Mary, and
she went out.

"Better let her go, Lizzie," said Aunt Emma, detaining her sister.

"You've done it now, Uncle Abel."

"Well, why didn't she get the writings?" retorted Uncle Abel.

Half-way to Buckolts' Mary met Bertha Buckolt herself, coming over to
the selection for the first time since the night of the party.
Bertha started forward to kiss Mary, but stopped short as Mary stood
stock-still and faced her, with her hands behind her back.

"Why! whatever is the matter, Mary?" exclaimed Bertha.

"You know very well, Bertha."

"Why! Whatever do you mean? What have I done?"

"What haven't you done? You've--you've broken my heart."

"Good gracious me! Whatever are you talking about? Tell me what it is,
Mary?"

"You met him at your gate that night?"

"I know I did."

"Oh, Bertha! How could you be so mean and deceitful?"

"Mean and deceitful! What do you mean by that? Whatever are you talking
about? I suppose I've got as good a right to meet him as anyone else."

"No, you haven't," retorted Mary, "you're only stringing him on. You
only did it to spite me. You helped him to deceive me. You ought to be
ashamed to look me in the face."

"Good gracious! Whatever are you talking about? Ain't I good enough for
him! I ought to be, God knows! I suppose he can marry who he likes, and
if I'm poor fool enough to love him and marry him, what then? Mary, you
ought to be the last to speak--speak to--to me like that."

"Yes. He can marry all, the girls in the country for all I care. I
never want to see either him or you any more. You're a cruel, deceitful,
brazen-faced hussy, and he's a heartless, deceiving blackguard."

"Mary! I believe you're mad," said Bertha, firmly. "How dare you speak
to me like that! And as for him being a blackguard. Why, you ought to be
the last in the world to say such a thing; you ought to be the last to
say a word against him. Why, I don't believe you ever cared a rap for
him in spite of all your pretence. He could go to the devil for all you
cared."

"That's enough, Bertha Buckolt!" cried Mary. "_You_--you! Why, you're
a barefaced girl, that's what you are! I don't want to see your brazen
face again." With that she turned and stumbled blindly in the direction
of home.

"Send