t you needn't call me anything."

"Look here, Em."

"Amelie."

"Emamelie! for Heaven's sake don't be a snob!"

"You're the snob, not I. There's just as much snobbery in sticking to
mispronunciation as there is in being correct. And just as much
affectation in talking with a burr as in dropping it. You think it's all
right for me to dress as they do in New York. Why shouldn't I talk the
same way? If it's all right for me to put on a pretty gown and weah my
haiah the most becoming way, why cahn't I improve my name, too? You
cahn't frighten me. I'm not afraid of you or the rest of your backwoods
friends. Beauty is my religion, and if necessary I'll be a mahtah to
it."

"You'll be a what?"

"A mahtah."

"Do you mean a motto?"

"I mean what you'd call a marrtyrr. But I won't make you one. I'll
release you from our engagement, and you can go back to Liddy Sovey. I
understand you've been rushing her very hahd. And you needn't take me
home. I'll get back by the gahden pahth."

She rose and swept into the house, followed by her despairing swain.

Orson and Tudie eavesdropped in silence. Tudie was full of scorn.
Amelie's arguments were piffle or worse to her, and her willingness to
undergo "martyrdom" for them was the most arrant pigheadedness, as the
martyrdom of alien creeds usually is.

Orson, the alien, was full of amazement. Here was a nice young man in
love with a beautiful young woman. He had been devoted for years, and
now, because she had slightly altered her habits in one vowel and one
consonant, their love was curdled.

IV

Greater wars have begun from less causes and been waged more fiercely.
They say that an avalanche can be brought down from a mountain by a
whispered word. Small wonder, then, that the murmur of a vowel and the
murder of a consonant should precipitate upon the town of Carthage the
stored-up snows of tradition. Business was dull in the village and any
excitement was welcome. Before Emma's return there had been a certain
slight interest in pronunciation.

Orson Carver had for a time stimulated amusement by his droll talk. He
had been suspected for some time of being an impostor because he spoke
of his university as "Havvad." The Carthaginians did not expect him to
call it "Harrvarrd," as it was spelled, but they had always understood
that true graduates called it "Hawvawd," and local humorists won much
laughter by calling it "Haw-haw-vawd." Orson had bewildered them further
by a s