ringing a sharp, sweet odour from the brown
grass; Monroe seemed a dear and homely place as they came home.

"Were you surprised, Martie?"

"When I first thought of it? I was absolutely stunned! But to-day?--no,
I wasn't exactly surprised to-day."

"I had no idea, even this morning!" he confessed. She wondered if her
admission smacked of the designing widow.

"Other people will be!" she said in smiling warning.

He chuckled mischievously.

"Well, won't they?" He smiled for a moment or two in silence, over his
wheel. Martie made another tiny misstep.

"I suppose there's no reason why I shouldn't tell Lydia--" she began
musingly.

"Don't tell a soul!" he said quickly. "Not for a while, anyway. When we
get all our plans made, then we'll tell 'em, and turn around and get
married before you could say 'Jack Robinson!'"

She felt a little chill; a younger woman, with a younger lover, would
have had her pouting and her petting for this. But what did it matter?
Clifford had his first kiss in the dim old parlour with the
gas-brackets that evening; and after a few days he was as fervent a
lover as any woman could ask, eager to rush through the necessary
preparations for their marriage, and to let the world know of his
happiness.

He was more demonstrative than Martie had anticipated, or than she
really cared to have him. She found odd girlish reserves deep in her
being when he put his arms about her. He was never alone with her for
even a minute without holding her close, turning up her lovely face for
his smiling kisses, locking a big warm arm about her shoulders.

After some thought, she told Lydia and Sally, on a hot afternoon when
they were upstairs in the cool window end of the hallway, patiently
going over boxes and boxes of old letters. She had been absent-minded
and silent that day, and Sally had once or twice looked at her in
surprise.

"Girls--listen. I'm going to be married!" she said abruptly, her eyes
childishly widened, dimples struggling at the corners of her demure
mouth. Sally leaped up in a whirlwind of letters, and gave a shout of
delight.

"I knew it! I knew it! You can't tell ME! I said so to Joe. Oh, Mart,
you old darling, I'm so glad--I'm gladder than I can say!"

"Well, dear, I hope you'll be just as happy as possible!" said Lydia's
wilted voice. Martie kissed her cheek, and she returned the kiss. "I
can't say I'm surprised, for nothing very much surprises me now," Lydia
went on. "Cliff w