f do as her
code of morals demanded that she should. She thought of her various
friends; none of them had ever been guilty of the things Elizabeth found
herself culpable of. Sadie had rebelled against her first child, but when
shown the consequences had cheerfully applied the lesson, while she,
Elizabeth, had been unable to put into practice later the very precepts
she had so glibly given her neighbour. None of her friends had ever
committed the folly of falling in love with men who were not their
husbands.

Elizabeth would not stay for the reading that night, and had a bad hour
before she fell asleep. Her love for Hugh looked even worse to her since
John's arrival than it had done before. This new phase of her life was
even less able to command respect than any which had preceded it. Why was
she vexed with such unheard of temptations? It did not comfort her to
reason it out that this thing had fallen upon her without any wish of
hers, that the thrill which had followed his use of her name was not a
thing she had deliberately fostered within herself; she demanded of
herself that she should not thrill at his voice, not knowing that she
demanded the impossible.

The rye was to be cut at Silas Chamberlain's. John suggested to Elizabeth
that she had better go over to help Liza Ann, since she was alone, saying
that he would take her over when he went. Hugh was to go with the machine.
Jake would drive the extra team over, and the other two men would plow
corn at home. A few minutes before nine o'clock John announced that he was
ready. He had come in to carry Jack to the buggy for her. John had gone
away with the impressions of Elizabeth's illness still upon him, and
looked out for her with the same care he had accorded her when an
invalid.

"How long?" he asked, dropping down on the foot of the bed beside the
machine upon which she had been putting in the spare time.

"Just this one little seam; I'll have it done then."

She stooped over the machine to finish the seam quickly, not liking to
keep John waiting when he was already somewhat late.

Jack slipped from his father's lap, and fascinated by the swiftly moving
wheel on a level with his face, put out a pudgy little forefinger to feel
of it as it went around. His mother saw it and stopped short with a little
cry of alarm.

"Don't do that, Jack!" she said sharply. "It'll take your finger right off
of your hand if you get it in there."

Jack put his hand behind his