abeth realized that he was not coming in with her.

Susan Hornby had risen from her chair, thinking that John was coming into
the house, and when she saw that he did not she slipped her arm about the
young girl and kissed her as she was passing.

"I'm going to bed, Aunt Susan," Elizabeth said, and passed on to the door
of her own room. Susan Hornby knew that something had gone wrong.

Saturday morning was spent by Elizabeth sewing on a dress she was anxious
to finish before Mrs. Hunter came, and when there were only mornings and
evenings in which to sew, and inexperience made much ripping necessary,
the work did not progress rapidly. As she sewed she considered. No, she
would not give up the year away at school. It was absolutely essential
that she come into the Hunter family equipped and ready to assume the role
which a wife should play in it. She would be married without a whole new
outfit of clothes, but the year at school was a necessity. Elizabeth's
pride revolted against being taught social customs by John Hunter's
mother. As she thought of the year he must spend alone, however, she was
quite willing to give up teaching an extra year for the sake of the usual
bridal finery. She resolved to tell him that. She would be married in the
simplest thing she had if he wished.

Fate in the person of John Hunter himself took the settlement of the
bride's gown out of Elizabeth's hands. Just before noon he stopped, on his
way back from Colebyville, to give Susan Hornby the mail he had brought
out from the post-office. Elizabeth followed him to the wagon when he went
out.

"Well, I wrote mother. Can you be ready by October?" He spoke across the
backs of the horses as he untied them, and was very busy with the straps.

Elizabeth Farnshaw's face contracted visibly. He had taken advantage of
her.

"How could you do it?" she asked indignantly.

"Why, I thought it was settled! I told you I couldn't wait a whole year,
much less two. I told you about getting Mitchell County land and getting
down to cattle raising right off. You didn't say anything."

There was such righteous innocence in his voice that the sting of
deception was drawn from her mind. The young girl made no reply, but
leaned her head against the withers of the horse at her side and looked
down at her foot to hide her tears. It was a blow. She was conscious that
somehow there had been a lack of high principle in it. Her silence the
night before _had_ given some