You keep on. You wouldn't want a girl that
would throw her arms round your neck on the first visit."

"No, I reckon not," Long agreed, slowly, "and still I don't like the
uncertainty, either. Looks like she's studying me all the time, and
ain't any too well pleased, at that. I don't know; I reckon she's got me
rattled to some extent. I know what I want; I want _her_, and the sooner
I'm easy in my mind the sooner I'll be fit for business." Long glanced
at the sinking sun. "I must be on the move; take care of yourself, Alf,
and pray for me. You've put me on the track of a good thing, and if I
win I'll be yours for life."

The next morning, as Henley was on his way to the village, he saw Dixie
in her peanut-patch on the side of the road. She seemed to be carefully
inspecting the vine-covered mounds in the mellow soil, for he saw her
stoop now and then and lift the vines and peer beneath them. Vaulting
over the fence, he was soon by her side.

"Always at work, rain or shine," he said, lightly, as she glanced up and
smiled a cheery greeting.

"I've hit it right on these goobers, Alfred," she said. "I pulled up a
vine the other day and washed it in the branch. I'm keeping it for the
fair at Carlton. It is a dandy; the goobers on it are as thick as beads
on a strand, and already as big as your thumb. Folks laughed at me for
putting in five acres in this ground, but I knew what I was about. If
they go high this fall, I'll make up for the loss on my wheat and hay."

"From the looks of things yesterday," he said, "it don't seem like
you'll have to bother much more about raising anything."

"I saw you looking at us," she returned, gravely. "In fact, I saw
everybody in the house. It was an awful day, Alfred, and I wouldn't go
through another like it for no sap-headed man that ever walked the
earth. I was up before the break of day, scrubbing, sweeping, baking by
candle-light, and what was it all for--good gracious, what was it for?
For weeks I'd counted on it as a great event, just to feel, down in my
heart when it was all over, like a big fool."

"Why, I thought--I supposed--" Henley began in perplexity, but she
interrupted him.

"I hate sham, Alfred, and that whole thing was sham--sham, sham, from
first to last. Because I've been beat down and sneered at all this time
by a silly woman, and because my burden of life looked hard, I let
myself be tempted. Do you know, I believe Providence is trying to pound
some sense into