if he was conductin' a funeral."

He fell back as Gay nodded pleasantly, and the wheels grated over
the rocky ground by the well. With a slow flick on the long whip, the
carriage crossed the three roads and rolled rapidly into the turnpike.
And while she gazed straight ahead into the flat distance, Molly was
thinking, "All this has happened because I went down the Haunt's Walk
that April afternoon and not over the east meadow."

CHAPTER VII

A NEW BEGINNING TO AN OLD TRAGEDY

The wedding was over. Mr. Mullen had read the service in his melodious
voice, gazing straight over the Prayer-book as though he saw a vision in
the sunbeam above Judy's head. On that solitary occasion his soul, which
revolted from what he described in secret as the "Methodistical low
church atmosphere" of his parish, had adorned the simple word with the
facial solemnity that accompanies an elaborate ritual.

From the front pew, Sarah Revercomb, in full widow's weeds, had glared
stonily at the Reverend Orlando, as if she suspected him of some
sinister intention to tamper with the ceremony. At her side, Solomon
Hatch's little pointed beard might have been seen rising and falling
as it followed the rhythmic sound of the clergyman's voice. When the
service was over, and the congregation filed out into the leaf-strewn
paths of the churchyard, it was generally decided that Mr. Mullen's
delivery had never been surpassed in the memory of the several
denominations.

"'Twas when he came to makin' Abel say 'with all my worldly goods' that
he looked his grandest," commented old Adam, as he started for Solomon's
cottage between Sarah and Mrs. Hatch. "But, them are solemn words an'
he was wise to give a man pause for thought. Thar ain't a mo' inspirin'
sentence in the whole Prayer-book than that."

"Well, marriage ain't all promisin'," observed Sarah, "thar's a deal to
it besides, an' they're both likely to find it out befo' they're much
older."

Old Adam, who never contradicted a woman unless he was married to her,
agreed to this with some unintelligible mutters through his toothless
gums, while Mrs. Hatch remarked with effusive amiability that "it's a
sad sight to see a daughter go, even though she's a stepchild. It's
a comfort to think," she added immediately, "that Judy's got a
God-fearin', pious husband an' one with no nonsense about him for all
his good looks."

"I ain't so sure about the nonsense," retorted Sarah, "Abel's got to be
man