o Trott yet," Whaley answered, "and I
may not, though he hasn't been out to meeting yet and that seems odd,
when the Sabbath is a day of rest and there is nothing else to do."

"I happened to hear him tell Tilly that he was going next Sunday," Mrs.
Whaley answered, "so you see that will work out all right."

"Well, we'll wait and see," Whaley returned. "They dance over there at
Teasdale's house, don't they?"

"Some do and some don't," was the answer, slowly made. "Tilly don't and
Mr. Trott never did in his life."

"There isn't much difference in actually dancing and giving sanction to
it by looking on," Whaley said, his heavy brows meeting in a frown, "an'
I'm in for calling a halt on Tilly going to such places. Looks like
there would be plenty of decent amusements without hot-blooded young
folks hugging up tight together and spinning around on the floor till
they are wet with sweat from head to foot. Sally Teasdale ought to be
churched, and she would be if she was a Methodist. The Presbyterians
ain't strict enough. Well, if I believed in foreordained baby damnation
as they do I'd let a child of mine dance her way into hell and be done
with it. They make me sick. I had an argument with old Bill Tye
yesterday and I fairly flayed up the ground with him--didn't leave him a
leg to stand on, but he was mad--oh, wasn't he mad? The crowd laughed at
him good."

Whaley turned away. He intended to chat with Cavanaugh outside, but he
met the contractor coming in at the front door on his way to bed.

"I found that passage from Paul and read the whole chapter," Whaley
began, but Cavanaugh stopped him.

"I'll see it to-morrow," he said. "My eyes are not strong enough to read
at night, even with my specs, and I'm a little bit tired, too. I walked
out to the sawmill--five miles and back--this morning, to see about
some timber, and it was quite a stretch for me. Good night."

"No wonder he didn't want to see it," Whaley smiled to himself as he
leaned in the doorway. "I had him beat and he knows it. I'll bet the old
skunk has already looked it up, or asked somebody about it."

CHAPTER XII

A wide country road stretched out in the moonlight before John and
Tilly. They walked slowly. Tilly still held his arm and he was
transported with sheer ecstasy by that close contact with her. Once or
twice he started to speak, but found himself unable to think of anything
appropriate, and this both angered and alarmed him, for, he a