to the change in Steve.

"I told you so," he said, but he took no delight in recommending it to
his sister's attention. "If he didn't know it before, she's taught him
this trip that he hasn't a chance."

"Your sensation is ancient history, Cal," was all she would reply.

And even though, so far as Steve's peace of mind was concerned, Miss
Sarah's scheming had not helped at all, that tiny lady still chose to
view her activities complacently the day Barbara took leave of her
again.

"Write me every detail of your plans," Miss Sarah ordered her. "Proxy
bridal preparations are better than none, my dear, and I am madly
interested."

At the last minute Barbara bobbed her dark head in reply.

"I will," she promised meekly. And then, wide eyes vague with fear:
"Aunt Sarah, I--I'm not sure that I want to be--married at all!"

* * * * * *

"You will be coming back," he told her again the day he put her on the
train. "You will be back in the spring?"

It was his old, hopeful challenge, with all the hope left out.

"I think so," she faltered in return. "I mean to come and see the
completion of your work, if father will let me." She knew a moment of
confusion. "I wonder, many nights, if you are safe, up here in the
hills."

Indeed, Miss Sarah had made progress, though the surface indications
were small. The girl would never think of him again simply in terms of
blue flannel and corduroy. But that was not the most disturbingly
vivid memory which she carried away with her.

"I love you," he framed the words silently as the train was pulling
out, and although their positions were reversed, the moment was so
reminiscent of that day when he had leaned out of her father's switch
engine cab and asked if she wanted a ride, that it made her throat ache.

She waved a small gloved hand to him on the platform.

She did not want to go.

CHAPTER XXI

SETTING THE STAGE

There are two interviews which should be mentioned here, if for no
other reason then merely because they were both so entirely the outcome
of Miss Sarah's Christmas party. Neither of them were long; the last
one which took place between Wickersham and the girl he was to marry
was the briefer of the two. But her prettily serious argument that the
first of May was too early a date for their wedding, in view of the
work which he had to do and her own state of unpreparedness, left him
so white of face that she felt