Scattergood, nonplused for the first time. What did he
mean? How was she to take him? His face was serene and there was no
glint of humor in his eye.... Yet, somehow, she gathered the idea he was
chuckling inwardly and that there resided in him a broad and tender
toleration for the little antics and makeshifts of mankind. Possibly he
was holding Mrs. Blossom up to her as a model of rectitude; perhaps he
was asking her to laugh with him at a foible of one of his own people.
She wished she knew which.

"Calc'late on marryin' Homer?" he asked.

"I--"

"Yes or no--quick."

"Yes," she said, lifting her chin bravely.

"Um!... Knowed him four days, hain't you? Think it's long enough? Plenty
of time to figger it all out?"

She sat down on the bed, drooping wearily. "I'm tired," she said, "awful
tired. I can't stand this life any longer. I've got to have a place to
rest."

"Hain't goin' to have Homer used for no sanitorium," said Scattergood.

"I like him," said Yvette.

"'Tain't enough. Up this way folks mostly loves when they git
married--or owns adjoinin' timber."

Again she was at a loss. What did he mean? If he would only smile!

"I--I've got a feeling I could _trust_ him," she said, "and he'd be good
to me."

"_He_ would," said Scattergood. "I hain't worritin' about his dealin'
with you; it's your dealin' with him I'm questionin' into."

"I'd--. He wouldn't be sorry."

"Um!... Nate Weaver, back country a spell, is lookin' fer a wife. Hain't
young. Got lots of money, and the right woman could weasel it out of
him. Lots of it.... He'd like you fine. Homer won't have much, and if
his pa keeps on feelin' like he does, he won't have none.... If you're
lookin' fer a restin' place, you might consider Nate. I could fix it."
Her eyes flashed. "I haven't come to that yet," she said, sharply, and
then began to cry quietly.

"Um!..." Scattergood gripped his pudgy hands together so that each might
restrain the other from patting her head comfortingly. "Um!... What's
your name?"

"My name?"

"Yes.... 'Tain't Wife-ette Hinchbrooke. They hain't no sich name.
'Tain't human.... What's your real one?"

"Eva Hopkins."

"How'd you come to change?"

"A girl's got a right to call herself anything she wants to," she said,
defensively.

"Except Mrs. Homer Locker," said Scattergood, dryly. "Now jest come
off'n your high boss, and we'll talk. When we git through, we'll
_do_.... Either you'll take the mornin' train out