s--to see her hated rival in
such a coveted position in the view of all before whom she had been so
systematically maligned.

But Henley's mind refused to be riveted to Carrie's discomfiture. For
the first time he was seeing his friend Long through new glasses. He
was, indeed, as Dixie had hinted, a rather uncouth individual, and this
fault was not lessened by his flashy attire and juxtaposition to so much
innate refinement in the person of his companion.

After the service, as they were leaving the church, Henley saw that
three-fourths of the congregation, at least, had deliberately paused
outside, and were watching the Carlton man assist his partner into the
shining trap. They stood as if transfixed, and regarded the pair till
they had disappeared down the road in the direction of Dixie's home.

That morning before sunrise old Wrinkle had gone to his watermelon-patch
and plucked a ripe melon. He had put it in the spring-house to keep it
cool, and during the afternoon he served it to the family on the
back-porch. Henley had enjoyed it with the others, and was idly
sauntering about the front-yard when he saw Long leave the Hart cottage
and start back to Carlton. Seeing Henley, he told the driver to stop,
and sprang down to the ground and came to the fence.

"Well, what progress?" Henley asked. "I saw you at meeting this
morning."

"Well, I hardly know yet, Alf." Long clutched one of the palings of the
fence with his gloved hand and swung back from it and took a deep
breath. "I hardly know what to say. I'm tickled to some extent, and then
again I hain't, for I hain't as sure of my ground as I'd like to be.
Alf, she's by all odds the finest bolt of calico I ever tried to
unroll--I say _unroll_, because if she hain't a tight mystery I never
saw one."

"You mean you can't quite make her out?" suggested Henley, with an
eagerness for which he could hardly account.

"That's it; you've hit it the first throw out of the box. It looks to
me, Alf, like she's always going to do something that she never gets to,
and not do what she's sure to do when you ain't expecting it. Now, one
thing I counted on as a sure fact before I come out was that after
dinner at her house me 'n her would walk down to the woods where it was
shady and sort o' stroll about and take in the scenery, but not a peg
would she move, although I hinted at it several times. I like old
women--that is, you know, I respect 'em in their places--but that pair
wa