Wade's sneers. I'd rather strut by her house with a
husband that was able to take me in out of the wet than anything else I
know of, and I want to rest. I want to sleep one night without dreaming
of old Welborne's flabby jaws, blinking eyes, and harsh voice snarling
at me. Folks may say such an arrangement ain't customary--that it is
out of the common--but it seems to me that everything about me is out of
the common, anyway, and why shouldn't this fall in line? Customs are
just what the most folks want to do. Custom don't look after the under
dog in the pack. But when right is on a body's side there is no need to
fear, and there won't be a shade of wrong in this if I have anything to
do with it. I've made up my mind to do a wife's part in every sense of
the word, and let it go at that--nothing risk, nothing have. I never
used to think I'd ever marry a man I never saw--in fact, when I was
young and silly I used to see myself strutting by whole regiments of
fellers all making signs to me to come be his darling, but that was when
my eyelids was glued down and before they was jerked open by trouble.
Marrying with me in this case is an open-and-shut business proposition.
I read somewhere that it is worked that way among high-up folks in
France--though the dickering takes place between the parents of the
contracting parties; and as I know a sight more about what to do than
Ma, why, it was all right for me to take it in hand. Peter is an orphan,
and I'm the head of a family, and so there was nobody else concerned. My
two women are getting old and plumb helpless--more like children than
grown-ups. They may live a long time. I certainly hope they will, for
they are all I've got; but they are actually getting so that they don't
want to budge out of the house, even as far as the fence. They are
afraid a little sun will kill 'em dead. But, Alfred, I don't somehow
like the way you look about it. You don't take it like I thought you
would. I know in reason that you wish me well, and--"

"I don't know that I have a right to say a thing agin it," Henley broke
into her now hesitating words. "But I must confess I'm sorter stunned,
Dixie. I've always felt like a big brother to you, and pitied you a good
deal, and now--well, you see, I reckon it is natural for me to be
sorter afraid that you may be making a mistake in what you are doing. I
feel like begging you not to do it, and then ag'in I don't, for I've
always made up my mind that marry