exchanged rings, and returned to the
carriage, a man and his wife by the laws of man.

"Drive to Seaton's cafe'," the Harvester said.

"Oh David, let us go home!"

"This is so good I hate to stop it for something you may not like so
well. I ordered lunch and if we don't eat it I will have to pay for it
anyway. You wouldn't want me to be extravagant, would you?"

"No," said the Girl, "and besides, since you mention it, I believe I am
hungry."

"Good!" cried the Harvester. "I hoped so! Ruth, you wouldn't allow me
to hold your hand just until we reach the cafe'? It might save me from
bursting with joy."

"Yes," she said. "But I must take off my lovely gloves first. I want to
keep them forever."

"I'd hate the glove being removed dreadfully," said the Harvester, his
eyes dancing and snapping.

"I'm sorry I am so thin and shaky," said the Girl. "I will be steady and
plump soon, won't I?"

"On your life you will," said the Harvester, taking the hand gently.

Now there are a number of things a man deeply in love can think of to do
with a woman's white hand. He can stroke it, press it tenderly, and lay
it against his lips and his heart. The Harvester lacked experience
in these arts, and yet by some wonderful instinct all of these things
occurred to him. There was real colour in the Girl's cheeks by the time
he helped her into the cafe'. They were guided to a small room, cool and
restful, close a window, beside which grew a tree covered with talking
leaves. A waiting attendant, who seemed perfectly adept, brought in
steaming bouillon, fragrant tea, broiled chicken, properly cooked
vegetables, a wonderful salad, and then delicious ices and cold fruit.
The happy Harvester leaned back and watched the Girl daintily manage
almost as much food as he wanted to see her eat.

When they had finished, "Now we are going home," he said. "Will you try
to like it, Ruth?"

"Indeed I will," she promised. "As soon as I grow accustomed to the
dreadful stillness, and learn what things will not bite me, I'll be
better."

"I'll have to ask you to wait a minute," he said. "One thing I forgot. I
must hire a man to take Betsy home."

"Aren't you going to drive her yourself?"

"No ma'am! We are going in a carriage or a motor," said the Harvester.

"Indeed we are not!" contradicted the Girl. "You have had this all your
way so far. I am going home behind Betsy, with Belshazzar at my knee."

"But your dress! People will think I am cra