ment peeped out plainly enough for even him
to become aware of it. "May we sit down at this table?" she asked.
"I presume the chairs are aired already by the warm atmosphere of the
morning? There is no danger of rheumatism?"

"What's up?" inquired Fuller, sitting down at once, and setting his
shirt-sleeved arms upon the table. "Theer's nothin' the matter, is
theer?"

"You shall judge for yourself," replied Rachel. She drew a letter
from her pocket, and covering it with her hand laid it on the table. A
distinct odor of tea greeted Fuller's nostrils, and he noticed it even
then. "I presume that you are not unacquainted with the character of the
Messrs. Gold?"

"It 'ud be odd if I warn't acquynted with 'em," said Fuller. "I've lived
i' the same parish with 'em all my days."

"That being so," said Rachel, "you will be able to appreciate my
feelings when I tell you that almost upon my first arrival here I
discovered that the younger Gold was making advances to my niece Ruth."

"Ah?" said Fuller, interrogatively. "I don't count on bein' able to see
no furder through a millstone than my neighbors, but I've been aweer o'
that for a day or two."

"Ruth is motherless," pursued Rachel, a little too intent upon
saying things in a predetermined way to take close note of Fuller. "A
motherless girl in a situation of that kind is always in need of the
guidance of an experienced hand."

"Yis, yis," assented Fuller, heartily. "Many thanks to you, Miss Blythe,
for it's kindly meant, I know."

"Last night," said Rachel, "I made a discovery." There was nothing
in the world of which she was more certain than she was of Fuller's
approving sanction. Only a few minutes before she had had her doubts
about it, and they had made her nervous. She was so very serious
that Fuller began to look grave. But he was built of loyalty and
unsuspicion; and though for a mere second a fear assailed him that the
old lady was about to charge Reuben with playing his daughter false, he
scouted the fancy hotly. In the warmth thus gained he spoke more briskly
than common.

"Drive along, ma'am. Come to the root o' the matter."

"This letter," said Rachel, taking Ruth's answer to Reuben in both
hands, "was written last night. It is addressed in your daughter's
handwriting to Mr. Reuben Gold."

"Tis, yis, yis," said Fuller, impatiently, not knowing what to make of
Rachel's funereal gravity.

"It appeared to me, after long consideration, that the best an