ver his work and
answered, "Marry in haste--repent at leisure."

But nevertheless that night Watts sat with Nellie Logan on the front
porch of the Wards' house, watching the rising harvest moon, while
Mrs. Ward, inside, was singing to her baby. Nellie Logan roomed with
the Wards, and was bookkeeper in Dorman's store. It was nearly ten
o'clock and the man rose to go. "Well," he said, and hesitated a
moment, "well, Nellie, I suppose you're still waiting?" It was a
question rather than an assertion.

The woman put her hands gently on the man's arms and sighed. "I just
can't--not yet, Watts."

"Well, I thought maybe you'd changed your mind." He smiled as he
continued, "You know they say women do change sometimes."

She looked down at him sadly. "Yes, I know they do, but some way I
don't."

There was a long pause while Watts screwed up his courage to say,
"Still kind of thinking about that preacher?"

The woman had no animation in her voice as she replied, "You know that
by now--without asking."

The man sat down on the step, and she sat on a lower step. He was
silent for a time. Then he said, "Funny, ain't it?" She knew she was
not to reply; for in a dozen years she had learned the man's moods. In
a minute, during which he looked into his hat absent-mindedly, he went
on: "As far as I've been able to make it out, love's a kind of a
grand-right-and-left. I give my right hand to you, and you give yours
to the preacher, and he gives his to some other girl, and she gives
hers to some one else, like as not, who gives his to some one else,
and the fiddle and the horn and the piano and the bass fid screech and
toot and howl, and away we go and sigh under our breaths and break our
hearts and swing our partners, and it's everybody dance." He looked up
at her and smiled at his fancy. For he was a poet and thought his
remarks had some artistic value.

She smiled back at him, and he leaned on his elbows and looked up at
her as he said quietly: "I'd like awful well, Nellie--awful well if
you'd be my partner for the rest of this dance. It's lonesome down
there in the shop."

The woman patted his hand, and they sat quietly for a while and then
she said, "Maybe sometime, Watts, but not to-night."

He got up, and stood for a moment beside her on the walk. "Well," he
said at length, "I suppose I must be moving along--as the wandering
Jew said." He smiled and their eyes met in the moonlight. Watts
dropped his instantly, and excla