d with each a
bout of single combat. The other women's eyes were full of scared
questionings as they met hers.

"They got off in the three-o'clock train," remarked the minister's
wife, trying to speak easily.

"That was the one they'd talked of," said Mrs. Maxwell calmly. "Now I
guess I shall have to leave you ladies to entertain each other a few
minutes."

When Mrs. Maxwell had left the room, the ladies stared at each other.

"Do you s'pose she didn't know about it?" whispered Mrs. Lowe.

"I don't know," whispered the minister's wife. "I was very much
afraid she didn't at first. I began to feel very nervous. I knew Mr.
Wheeler would have been much distressed if he had suspected anything
clandestine."

"Did she have a new dress?" asked Mrs. Robbins.

"No," replied the minister's wife; "and that was one thing that made
me suspicious. She wore her old blue one, but George Freeman wore a
nice new suit."

"I heard," said Mrs. Lowe, "that Flora had all her under-clothes made
before old Mr. Maxwell died, an' she hadn't got any of her dresses. I
had it pretty straight. She told my Flora."

"I had heard that the wedding was postponed on account of Mr.
Maxwell's death, and so I was a little surprised when Mr. Wheeler
came to me and said they were in the parlor to be married," said the
minister's wife; "but I put on my dress as quick as I could, and went
in to witness it."

"How did Flora appear?" asked Mrs. Lowe.

"Well, I thought she looked rather sober, but I don't know as she
looked any more so than girls usually do when they're married. I have
seen them come to the parsonage looking more as if they were going to
their own funerals than their weddings, they were so scared and quiet
and sober. Now Flora--" The minister's wife stopped short, she heard
Mrs. Maxwell coming and she turned the conversation with a jolt of
conscience into another channel. "Yes, it is very dry," said she
effusively; "we need rain very much indeed."

The little woman with the crimped hair colored very painfully.

Mrs. Maxwell made frequent errands into the room, and her daughter's
wedding had to be discussed guardedly. Always after she went out, the
women looked at each other in an agony of inquiry.

"Do you s'pose she knew?" they whispered.

Mrs. Field said nothing; she sat grimly quiet, knitting. Lois looked
silently out of the window. Both of them knew that Mrs. Maxwell had
not known of her daughter's wedding. Presently a man's