with
impulsive earnestness:

"Thank you, Mr. Winslow. Whatever comes of this, or if nothing
comes of it, I can never thank you enough for your great kindness."

Jed gingerly shook the extended hand and fled, his face scarlet.

During the following week, although he saw his neighbors each day,
and several times a day, Mrs. Armstrong did not mention her brother
or the chance of his employment in the Orham bank. Jed, very much
surprised at her silence, was tempted to ask what her decision was,
or even if she had arrived at one. On one occasion he threw out a
broad hint, but the hint was not taken, instead the lady changed
the subject; in fact, it seemed to him that she made it a point of
avoiding that subject and was anxious that he should avoid it,
also. He was sure she had not abandoned the idea which, at first,
had so excited her interest and raised her hopes. She seemed to
him to be still under a strong nervous strain, to speak and act as
if under repressed excitement; but she had asked him to leave the
affair to her, to let her think it over, so of course he could do
or say nothing until she had spoken. But he wondered and
speculated a good deal and was vaguely troubled. When Captain Sam
Hunniwell called he did not again refer to his possible candidate
for the position now held by Luther Small. And, singularly enough,
the captain himself did not mention the subject.

But one morning almost two weeks after Jed's discussion with the
young widow she and Captain Hunniwell came into the windmill shop
together. Mrs. Armstrong's air of excitement was very much in
evidence. Her cheeks were red, her eyes sparkled, her manner
animated. Her landlord had never seen her look so young, or, for
that matter, so happy.

Captain Sam began the conversation. He, too, seemed to be in high
good humor.

"Well, Jedidah Wilfred Shavin's'," he observed, facetiously, "what
do you suppose I've got up my sleeve this mornin'?"

Jed laid down the chisel he was sharpening.

"Your arms, I presume likely," he drawled.

"Yes, I've got my arms and there's a fist at the end of each one of
'em. Any more--er--flippity answers like that one and you're
liable to think you're struck by lightnin'. This lady and I have
got news for you. Do you know what 'tis?"

Jed looked at Mrs. Armstrong and then at the speaker.

"No-o," he said, slowly.

"Well, to begin with it's this: Lute Small is leavin' the Orham
National a week from next