h lookin' out fu' two dan it is
lookin' out fu' one."

Hayward flashed a quick upward glance at his hostess' face and then
repeated slowly, "Yes'm, dat sutny is de trufe. I ain't nevah t'ought o'
that befo'. Hit ain't no ha'dah lookin' out fu' two dan hit is fu'
one," and though he was usually an incessant talker, he lapsed into a
brown study.

Be it known that the Rev. Mr. Hayward was a man of a very level head,
and that his bachelorhood was a matter of economy. He had long
considered matrimony in the light of a most desirable estate, but one
which he feared to embrace until the rewards for his labours began
looking up a little better. But now the matter was being presented to
him in an entirely different light. "Hit ain't no ha'dah lookin' out fu'
two dan fu' one." Might that not be the truth after all. One had to have
food. It would take very little more to do for two. One had to have a
home to live in. The same house would shelter two. One had to wear
clothes. Well, now, there came the rub. But he thought of donation
parties, and smiled. Instead of being an extravagance, might not this
union of two beings be an economy? Somebody to cook the food, somebody
to keep the house, and somebody to mend the clothes.

His reverie was broken in upon by Sally Griggs' voice. "Hit do seem lak
you mighty deep in t'ought dis evenin', Brothah Hayward. I done spoke to
you twicet."

"Scuse me, Sistah Griggs, my min' has been mighty deeply 'sorbed in a
little mattah o' doctrine. What you say to me?"

"I say set up to the table an' have a bite to eat; tain't much, but
'sich ez I have'--you know what de 'postle said."

The preacher's eyes glistened as they took in the well-filled board.
There was fervour in the blessing which he asked that made amends for
its brevity. Then he fell to.

Isaac Middleton was right. This woman was a genius among cooks. Isaac
Middleton was also wrong. He, a layman, had no right to raise his eyes
to her. She was the prize of the elect, not the quarry of any chance
pursuer. As he ate and talked, his admiration for Sally grew as did his
indignation at Middleton's presumption.

Meanwhile the fair one plied him with delicacies, and paid deferential
attention whenever he opened his mouth to give vent to an opinion. An
admirable wife she would make, indeed.

At last supper was over and his chair pushed back from the table. With a
long sigh of content, he stretched his long legs, tilted back and said:
"We