ime, Absalom."

In Canaan Township it would have been considered highly dishonorable
for a girl to allow a young man to "sit up with her Sundays" if she
definitely knew she would never marry him. Time meant money, and even
the time spent in courting must be judiciously used.

"I don't mind if I do waste my time settin' up with you Sundays,
Tillie. I take to you that much, it's something surprising, now! Will
you give me the dare to come next Sunday?"

"If you don't mind wasting your time--" Tillie reluctantly granted.

"It won't be wasted. I'll soon get you to think different to what you
think now. You just leave me set up with you a couple Sundays and see!"

"I know I'll never think any different, Absalom. You must not suppose
that I will."

"Is it somepin you're got ag'in' me?" he asked incredulously, for he
knew he was considered a prize. "I'm well-fixed enough, ain't I? I'd
make you a good purvider, Tillie. And I don't addict to no bad habits.
I don't chew. Nor I don't drink. Nor I don't swear any. The most I ever
sayed when I was spited was 'confound it.'"

"It isn't that I have anything against you, Absalom, especially.
But--look here, Absalom, if you were a woman, would YOU marry? What
does a woman gain?"

Absalom stared at her in the dusky evening light of the high road. To
ask of his slow-moving brain that it question the foundations of the
universe and wrestle with a social and psychological problem like this
made the poor youth dumb with bewilderment.

"Why SHOULD a woman get married?" Tillie repeated.

"That's what a woman's FUR," Absalom found his tongue to say.

"She loses everything and gains nothing."

"She gets kep'," Absalom argued.

"Like the horses. Only not so carefully. No, thank you, Absalom. I can
keep myself."

"I'd keep you better 'n your pop keeps you, anyways, Tillie. I'd make
you a good purvider."

"I won't ever marry," Tillie repeated.

"I didn't know you was so funny," Absalom sullenly answered. "You might
be glad I want to be your reg'lar friend."

"No," said Tillie, "I don't care about it."

They walked on in silence for a few minutes. Tillie looked away into
the starlit night and thought of Miss Margaret and wished she were
alone, that her thoughts might be uninterrupted. Absalom, at her side,
kicked up the dust with his heavy shoes, as he sulkily hung his head.

Presently he spoke again.

"Will you leave me come to see you Sundays, still, if I take my chancet