stly
nervousness, and, dear knows, you've had enough to make you nervous
to-day. I told Jawn after you was gone that I'd hate to be answerable
for the consequences."

Two days later John Dysart came into Palmerston's tent, and drew a
camp-stool close to the young man's side.

"I'm in a kind of a fix," he said, seating himself and fastening his
eyes on the floor with an air of profound self-commiseration. "You see,
this girl of Brownell's she came up where I was mending the flume
yesterday, and we got right well acquainted. She seems friendly. She
took off her coat and laid it on a boulder, and we set down there in our
shirt-sleeves and had quite a talk. I think she means all right, but
she's visionary. I can't understand it, living with a practical man like
the professor. But you can't always tell. Now, there's Emeline. Emeline
means well, but she lets her prejudices run away with her judgment. I
guess women generally do. But, someway, this girl rather surprised me.
When I first saw her I thought she looked kind of reasonable; maybe it
was her cravat--I don't know."

John shook his head in a baffled way. He had taken off his hat, and the
handkerchief which he had spread over his bald crown to protect it from
the flies drooped pathetically about his honest face.

"What did Miss Brownell say?" asked Palmerston, flushing a little.

John looked at him absently from under his highly colored awning. "The
girl? Oh, she don't understand. She wanted me to be careful. I told her
I'd been careful all my life, and I wasn't likely to rush into anything
now. She thinks her father's 'most too sanguine about the water, but she
doesn't understand the machine--I could see that. She said she was
afraid I'd lose something, and she wants me to back out right now. I'm
sure I don't know what to do. I want to treat everybody right."

"Including yourself, I hope," suggested Palmerston.

"Yes, of course. I don't feel quite able to give up all my prospects
just for a notion; and yet I want to do the square thing by Emeline.
It's queer about women--especially Emeline. I've often thought if there
was only men it would be easier to make up your mind; but still, I
suppose we'd oughtn't to feel that way. They don't mean any harm."

John drew the protecting drapery from his head, and lashed his bald
crown with it softly, as if in punishment for his seeming disloyalty.

"You could withdraw from the contract now without any great loss to Mr.
Br