hought Crane.

"Did he say where he was going?"

"To the city."

"Do you live here all the year round, Mrs.----?"

"My name's Brown, stranger."

"All I can say is, that Brown is a lucky man. Another cup of tea if you
please, Mrs. Brown."

"You might not like to exchange places with him, for all his luck,
stranger," remarked the widow.

"Indeed I would," said Bill, with a languishing look.

"He's six feet under ground!" explained Mrs. Brown, dryly.

"Dead?" ejaculated Crane.

"Yes; he's been dead these three weeks."

"And you are a widow?"

"That's so, stranger."

"But you don't mean to stay a widow?" interrogated Crane.

"Well, it is kinder lonesome. It seems natural like to have a man
round."

"I wonder if she's got any money," thought Crane. "I'll find out if I
can."

"Yes, Mrs. Brown, I feel for you," he said. "A woman can't struggle with
the world as a man can."

"I don't know about that, stranger. I can take care of myself, if that's
what you mean."

"But a woman needs a man to protect and work for her," insinuated
Crane.

"I don't need any one to protect me," said the widow; "and, as for
support, I've got a matter of five thousand dollars laid by, and a good
claim that'll pay for the workin'. I don't think I shall need to go to
the poor-house yet awhile."

Bill Crane's eyes sparkled. The widow Brown seemed wonderfully
attractive in his eyes. He was willing to barter his young affections
for five thousand dollars and a claim, even if the widow had been thrice
as homely as she was. If he had known that Mrs. Brown was bent on
marriage his way would have been clearer. His mind was made up. He would
woo and win his fair hostess if he could.

"When did Brown die?" he inquired.

"Three weeks ago, stranger."

"You must miss him."

"Yes, he was a quiet man, Brown was. He never gave me any trouble, and
it was natural to see him round."

"You must not mourn for him too much, Mrs. Brown."

"I shan't make a fool of myself," said the widow. "He's gone, and he
won't come back. There's no use cryin'."

"She's rather a queer specimen," thought Crane. "She hasn't broken her
heart, it seems."

"You ought to marry again," he said.

"I mean to," said Mrs. Brown.

"Well, that's frank," thought Crane. "There ain't any nonsense about
her."

"Your second husband will be a lucky man, Mrs. Brown."

"Well, he'll have a good livin', and, if he treats me right, he'll get
treated right too."

"Th