dsome
man in his best days, but Lynnfield oracles opined that Bessy would
take him. She couldn't expect to do any better, they said, and she was
looking terribly old and dowdy all at once.

In June Maggie Hatfield went to the Eastmans' to sew. The first bit of
news she imparted to Mrs. Eastman was that Bessy Houghton had refused
Jabez Lea--at least, he didn't come to see her any more.

Mrs. Eastman twitched her thread viciously. "Bessy Houghton was born
an old maid," she said sharply. "She thinks nobody is good enough for
her, that is what's the matter. Lawrence got some silly boy-notion
into his head last winter, but I soon put a stop to that."

"I always had an idea that Bessy thought a good deal of Lawrence,"
said Maggie. "She has never been the same since he left off going with
her. I was up there the morning after that prayer-meeting night people
talked so much of, and she looked positively dreadful, as if she
hadn't slept a wink the whole night."

"Nonsense!" said Mrs. Eastman decisively. "She would never think of
taking a boy like him when she'd turned up her nose at better men. And
I didn't want her for a daughter-in-law anyhow. I can't bear her. So I
put my foot down in time. Lawrence sulked for a spell, of
course--boy-fashion--and he's been as fractious as a spoiled baby ever
since."

"Well, I dare say you're right," assented the dressmaker. "But I must
say I had always imagined that Bessy had a great notion of Lawrence.
Of course, she's so quiet it is hard to tell. She never says a word
about herself."

There was an unsuspected listener to this conversation. Lawrence had
come in from the field for a drink, and was standing in the open
kitchen doorway, within easy earshot of the women's shrill tones.

He had never doubted his mother's word at any time in his life, but
now he knew beyond doubt that there had been crooked work somewhere.
He shrank from believing his mother untrue, yet where else could the
crookedness come in?

When Mrs. Eastman had gone to the kitchen to prepare dinner, Maggie
Hatfield was startled by the appearance of Lawrence at the low open
window of the sitting-room.

"Mercy me, how you scared me!" she exclaimed nervously.

"Maggie," said Lawrence seriously, "I want to ask you a question. Did
Bessy Houghton ever say anything to you about me or did you ever say
that she did? Give me a straight answer."

The dressmaker peered at him curiously.

"No. Bessy never so much as menti