Mary--_that_." And again, "It wasn't
gentlemanly in him to use an indelicate word about the baby." Miss
Lydia's mind refused to repeat two of the new Mr. Smith's words. The
dreadfulness of them made her forget his momentary chivalry for her.
"Mary is only a child," she said to herself; "and as for the baby, I'll
take care of the little thing; I won't let it know that its own
grandfather called it--No, it wasn't nice in Mr. Smith to say such words
before a young lady like Mary, or before me, either, though I'm a good
deal older than Mary. I'm glad I told him so!" (Miss Lydia telling Zeus
he wasn't "nice"!)

This September midnight was the first Secret which pounced upon Miss
Lydia. The next was the new Mr. Smith's short and terrible interview
with his prospective son-in-law: "You are never to set foot in this
town." And then his order to his daughter: "Nor you, either, unless you
come without that man. And there are to be no letters to or from Miss
Sampson, understand that! I am not going to have people putting two and
two together."

Certainly no such mental arithmetic took place at the very gay Smith
wedding in the second week in September--a wedding with white ribbons up
the aisle! Yes, and a reception at the big house! and rice! and old
slippers!

But when the gayety was over, and the bride and groom drove off in great
state, Miss Lydia waved to them from her front door, and then stood
looking after the carriage with strange pitifulness in her face. How
much they had missed, these two who, instead of the joy and wonder and
mystery of going away together into their new world, were driving off,
scarcely speaking to each other, tasting on their young lips the stale
bitterness of stolen fruit! After the carriage was out of sight Miss
Lydia walked down the road to the rectory, carrying, as was the habit of
her exasperatingly generous poverty when calling on her friends, a
present, a tumbler of currant jelly for Doctor Lavendar. But when the
old man remonstrated, she did not, as usual, begin to excuse herself.
She only said, point-blank:

"Doctor Lavendar, is it ever right to tell lies to save other people?"

Doctor Lavendar, jingling the happy bridegroom's two gold pieces in his
pocket, said: "What? What?"

"Not to save yourself," said Miss Lydia; "I know you can't tell lies to
save yourself."

Doctor Lavendar stopped jingling his gold pieces and frowned; then he
said: "Miss Lydia, the truth about ourselves is th