's give himself so dead away to her that we're
looking for him to forget what he's doin' next, and just come sailin'
down hisself at her feet."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the partition, Mrs. Baker had brushed
the red dust from the padlocked bag, and removed what seemed to be a
supplementary package attached to it by a wire. Opening it she found
a handsome scent-bottle, evidently a superadded gift from the devoted
expressman. This she put aside with a slight smile and the murmured
word, "Foolishness." But when she had unlocked the bag, even its
sacred interior was also profaned by a covert parcel from the adjacent
postmaster at Burnt Ridge, containing a gold "specimen" brooch and some
circus tickets. It was laid aside with the other. This also was vanity
and--presumably--vexation of spirit.

There were seventeen letters in all, of which five were for herself--and
yet the proportion was small that morning. Two of them were marked
"Official Business" and were promptly put by with feminine discernment;
but in another compartment than that holding the presents. Then the
shutter was opened, and the task of delivery commenced.

It was accompanied with a social peculiarity that had in time become a
habit of Laurel Run. As the young woman delivered the letters, in turn,
to the men who were patiently drawn up in Indian file, she made that
simple act a medium of privileged but limited conversation on special or
general topics,--gay or serious as the case might be, or the temperament
of the man suggested. That it was almost always of a complimentary
character on their part may be readily imagined; but it was invariably
characterized by an element of refined restraint, and, whether from some
implied understanding or individual sense of honour, it never passed the
bounds of conventionality or a certain delicacy of respect. The
delivery was consequently more or less protracted, but when each man
had exchanged his three or four minutes' conversation with the fair
postmistress,--a conversation at times impeded by bashfulness or
timidity, on his part solely, or restricted often to vague smiling,--he
resignedly made way for the next. It was a formal levee, mitigated by
the informality of rustic tact, great good-humor, and infinite patience,
and would have been amusing had it not always been terribly in earnest
and at times touching. For it was peculiar to the place and the epoch,
and indeed implied the whole history of Mrs. Baker.