the old fellow cried. "We are
waiting for you, although we didn't expect you. We didn't know but
you'd gone up to McElwin's to dinner. Sit down."

Annie laughed, but the old woman looked distressed. "Jasper, you know
you didn't think any such a thing. And if you did, how could you? Mr.
Lyman doesn't intrude himself where he's not invited. And you know
that McElwin is so particular."

Lyman frowned. It was clear that Mrs. Staggs, in her ignorance and in
her awe of the man at the bank, could not feel a respect for
intelligence and the refinement of a book-loving nature. "You may
think me rude," said Lyman, "but I should not regard dining at his
house a great privilege. Leaving out the respect I have for the young
woman, it would not be as inspiring a meal as a canned minnow on a
baize table."

"Why, Mr. Lyman, how can you say that?" the old woman cried.

"Madam, the fishes were divided among the thousands when the Son of
Man fed the multitude, and that was a more inspiring meal than could
have been provided by Solomon in all his glory."

The old man let his knife fall with a clatter. "Oh, he got you then!"
he cried. "He set a trap for you and you walked right into it. All
you've got to do is to set a trap for a woman, and she'll walk into it
sooner or later."

"For goodness sake, hush, Jasper. A body would think you were the
worst enemy I have on the face of the earth."

"Enemy! Who said anything about enemy? I was talking about a trap. But
it's all right. We saw you, Lyman."

"Yes, and we didn't know it was going to happen," said Annie.
"Everybody was watching you. And I heard a woman say that she admired
your courage. I did, I'm sure."

"I didn't feel that I was exhibiting any degree of courage," Lyman
replied. "All I had to fear was the young woman."

"But the man is--"

"A coward," Lyman broke in.

Old Staggs struck the table with his fist. "I always said it!" he
shouted. "And he's another one that made light of my arrest of the man
that choked the sheriff. Coward! of course he is."

Mrs. Staggs objected. No one whom McElwin had chosen for a son-in-law
could be a coward. She admitted that he was not as gentle as one could
wish. His life had been led out of doors. But he was a shrewd business
man and would make a good husband. It was all well enough in some
instances to permit girls to choose for themselves, but a girl was
often likely to make a sad mistake, particularly a girl whose home
life had bee