s for him, an' a good, strong hat--"

"Oh, honest, Johnnie--" Shandon began to protest hurriedly, in her
hunted manner, and with a miserable glance toward the home road. "Maybe
I'll come up next week, now I know what you meant--"

"Shucks! Next week nobody can talk anything but wedding," said Johnnie,
off guard.

"Whose wedding?" Shandon asked, and Johnnie, who would have preferred
to bite her tongue out, had to answer, "Mary Dickey's."

"Who to?" said Shandon, her face darkening. Johnnie's voice was very
low.

"To the doc', Shandy; to Arnold Lowell."

"Oh!" said Shandon, quietly. "Big wedding, I suppose, and white
dresses, and all the rest?"

"Sure," said Johnnie, relieved at her pleasant interest, and warming to
the subject. "There'll be five generations there. Parker's making the
cake in Sacramento. Five of the girls'll be bridesmaids--Mary Bell and
Carrie and Jane and the two Powell girls. Poor Mrs. Dickey, she feels
real bad. She--"

"She don't want to give Mary up?" said Shandon, in a hard voice. She
began to twist the whip about in its socket. "Well, some people have
everything, it seems. They're pretty, and their folks are crazy about
'em, and they can stand up and make a fuss over marrying a man who as
good as killed some other woman's husband,--a woman who didn't have any
one else either."

"Shandy," said Johnnie, sharply, "ain't you got Danny?"

Something like shame softened the girl's stern eyes. She dropped her
face until her lips rested upon the little fluffy fringe that marked
the dividing line between Danny's cap and Danny's forehead.

"Sure I have," she said huskily. "But I've--I've always sort of had it
in for Mary Dickey, Johnnie, I suppose becuz she IS so perfect, and so
cool, and treats me like I was dirt--jest barely sees me, that's all!"

Johnnie answered at random, for she was suddenly horrified to see Dr.
Lowell and Mary Dickey themselves come out of the post-office. Before
she could send them a frantic signal of warning, the doctor came toward
the cart.

"How do you do, Mrs. Waters?" said he, holding out his hand.

Shandon brought her startled eyes from little Danny's face. The child,
with little eager grunts and frowning concentration, was busy with the
clasp of her pocketbook, and her big, gentle hand had been guarding it
from his little, wild ones. The sight of the doctor's face brought back
her bitterest memories with a sick rush, at a moment when her endurance
was straine