and the crape-myrtle at
that!--widowhood unwidowed!--Now he's on the fence--but he'll not stay
there,--and you mustn't either!" The suitor smiled at his own
ludicrousness, yet for all that looked beseechingly in earnest. He
stood still again, continuing to hold her hand. She stole a furtive
glance here and there for possible spectators. He smiled again.

"You don't see anybody; the world waives its claim." But there was
such distress in her face that his smile passed away, and he made a
new effort to accommodate his suit to her mood. "Josephine, there's no
eye on us except it's overhead. Tell me this; if he that was yours
until ten years ago was looking down now and could speak to us, don't
you believe he'd say yes?"

"Oh! I dunno. Not to-day! Not _dis_ day!" The widow's eyes met his
gaze of tender inquiry and then sank to the ground. She shook her head
mournfully. "Naw, naw; not dis day. 'Tis to-day 'Thanase was kill'!"

Mr. Tarbox relaxed his grasp and Zosephine's hand escaped. She never
had betrayed to him so much distress as filled her face now. "De man
what kill' him git away! You t'ink I git marrie' while dat man alive?
Ho-o-o! You t'ink I let Marguerite see me do dat! Ah! naw!" She waved
him away and turned to leave the spot, but he pressed after, and she
paused once more. A new possibility lighted his eyes. He said eagerly:

"Describe the man to me. Describe him. How tall was he? How old would
he be now? Did they try to catch him? Did you hear me talking
yesterday about a man? Is there any picture of him? Have you got one?
Yes, you have; it's in your pocket now with your hand on it. Let me
see it."

"Ah! I di'n' want you to see dat!"

"No, I don't suppose, as far as you know yourself, you did." He
received it from her, and with his eyes still on her, continued: "No,
but you knew that if I got a ghost of a chance, I'd see you alone. You
knew what I'd ask you;--yes, you did, Josephine, and you put this
thing into your pocket to make it easier to say no."

"Hah! easier! Hah! easier! I need somethin' to _help_ me do dat? Hah!
'Tis _not_ so!" But the weakness of the wordy denial was itself almost
a confession.

They moved on. A few steps brought them into better light. Mr. Tarbox
looked at the picture. Zosephine saw a slight flash of recognition. He
handed it back in silence, and they walked on, saying not a word until
they reached the stile. But there, putting his foot upon it to bar the
way, he said: