pictured it
during that long day of suspense.

Brent, terribly in the blues, sat at the extreme end of the porch,
pretending to read the morning paper which had come in that afternoon's
rural mail. Jane and Ann were near by, and Jane was noticeably quiet.
Bob, having in mind his tobacco crop, called to the reader:

"What's the weather prediction for this section, old scout?"

The engineer sighed and let his eyes travel to Jane who was gazing in
moody silence out at the tangle of trees and vines. Turning again to the
paper, and with much rustling of the pages, he made a pretense of
reading:

"The high barometric pressure and lovely sunshine generally spreading
over central and southeastern Kentucky is showing no disposition to move
in the direction of Arden. Forecast for the next twenty-four hours:
great humility, and low, angry clouds, accompanied by moisture in the
eyes and a crackling drought under the fourth left rib. Here," he handed
the paper to Bob, and sent another questioning glance at Jane, "read it
for yourself. I'm going in before the storm bursts!"

Bob looked after him, and then his surprised eyes sought Ann; but that
young matron answered with a comprehensive smile, whereupon he sank
comfortably behind the pages. Ann might have smiled again had she
followed Brent to the dining-room, and there watched him change two
place-cards.

Thus it chanced that Jane found herself seated next to him, and, having
arranged the place-cards herself, understood exactly how it came about.
The situation was decidedly awkward, and she came very near wishing
their quarrel might have been postponed a few hours; especially as she
realized that her other side was flanked by the Colonel, with Nancy on
his right--a condition positively closing any hope of attention from
this kind-hearted host. In a few minutes she was driven to seek refuge
across the table in Dale; but Ann--having made a shrewd, though by no
means accurate, diagnosis of the situation--determinedly held the
mountaineer in leash. She then turned to Bob, but he had become
engrossed with a neighbor on the subject of crops. Miss Liz was next
sounded, but that lady, frivolously entangled with various occupations,
proved hopeless. Finally, she tried eating, but the silence of her plate
became utterly intolerable. Brent had been waiting for this.

"It's no use," he softly told her. "Suppose we make up!"

She might not have heard him.

"Don't you think it is inco