h, Mr March, that's right! She _must_ have your whole thought and
care!"

"She shall have it, Miss Barb, at every cost! as completely as I know
your father has and ought to have yours!" He took her hand. "Good-by!
The understanding's perfect now, isn't it?"

"I think so--I hope so--yes, sir."

"Say, 'Yes, John.'"

"Oh, Mr. March, I can't say that."

"Why, then, it isn't perfect."

"Yes, it is."

"Well, then, Miss Garnet, with the perfect understanding that the
understanding is perfect, I propose to bid this hand good-by in a
fitting and adequate manner, and trust I shall not be inter--!--rupted!
Good-by."

"Oh, Mr. March, I don't think that was either fair or right!" Her eyes
glistened.

"Miss Barb, it wasn't! Oh, I see it now! It was a wretched mistake!
Forgive me!"

Her eyes, staring up into his, filled to the brim. She waved him away
and turned half aside. He backed to the door and paused.

"Miss Barb, one look! Oh, one look, just to show I'm not utterly
unforgiven and cast out! I promise you it's all I'll ever ask--one
look!"

"Good-by," she murmured, but could not trust herself to move.

He stifled a moan. She gave a start of pain. He thought it meant
impatience. She took an instant more for self-command and then lifted a
smile. Too late, he was gone!

LXI.

A SICK MAN AND A SICK HORSE

"Thank you, no," said Miss Garnet at the door of Mrs. Fair's room,
refusing to enter. "I rapped only to say good-night."

To the question whether she had heard all the poems read she replied,
"Not all," with so sweet an irony in her grave smile that Mrs. Fair
wanted to tell her she looked like the starlight. But words are clumsy,
and the admirer satisfied herself with a kiss on the girl's temple.
"Good-night," she said; "dream of me."

Several times next day, as the three travelers wound their swift course
through the mountains of Pennsylvania, Mrs. Fair observed Barbara sink
her book to her lap and with an abstracted gaze on the landscape softly
touch the back of her right hand with the fingers of her left. It
puzzled her at first, but by and by--

"Poor boy!" she said to herself, in that inmost heart where no true
woman ever takes anyone into council, "and both of you Southerners! If
that's all you got, and you had to steal that, you're both of you better
than I'd have been."

When about noon she saw her husband's eyes fixed on Barbara, sitting
four seats away, she asked, with a sparkle: "Think