in broad
daylight? He had been hers, of course, ever since, shy and fearful,
she had first entered Bates Corners school, and found courage in his
broad, encouraging smile. Now she smiled on him, the smile of
possession that was in her heart. Henry instantly knew she always had
belonged to him, so he grasped her closer, and bent his head.

When Henry went back to the plow, and Polly ran down the road, with the
joy of the world surging in her heart and brain, she knew that she was
going to have to account to her tired, busy mother for being half an
hour late with dinner; and he knew he was going to have to explain to
an equally tired father why he was four furrows short of where he
should be.

He came to book first, and told the truth. He had seen some men go to
the Holts'. Polly was his little chum; and she was always alone all
summer, so he just walked that way to be sure she was safe. His father
looked at him quizzically.

"So THAT'S the way the wind blows!" he said. "Well, I don't know where
you could find a nicer little girl or a better worker. I'd always
hoped you'd take to Milly York; but Polly is better; she can work three
of Milly down. Awful plain, though!"

This sacrilege came while Henry's lips were tingling with their first
kiss, and his heart was drunken with the red wine of innocent young
love.

"Why, Dad, you're crazy!" he cried. "There isn't another girl in the
whole world as pretty and sweet as Polly. Milly York? She can't hold
a candle to Polly! Besides, she's been Adam's as long as Polly has
been mine!"

"God bless my soul!" cried Mr. Peters. "How these youngsters to run
away with us. And are you the most beautiful young man at Bates
Corners, Henry?"

"I'm beautiful enough that Polly will put her arms around my neck and
kiss me, anyway," blurted Henry. "So you and Ma can get ready for a
wedding as soon as Polly says the word. I'm ready, right now."

"So am I," said Mr. Peters, "and from the way Ma complains about the
work I and you boys make her, I don't think she will object to a little
help. Polly is a good, steady worker."

Polly ran, but she simply could not light the fire, set the table, and
get things cooked on time, while everything she touched seemed to spill
or slip. She could not think what, or how, to do the usual for the
very good reason that Henry Peters was a Prince, and a Knight, and a
Lover, and a Sweetheart, and her Man; she had just agreed to all this
wi