grance of the clover-scented hay filled the close air around
them. The sun was falling with the wind, but they heeded it not; until
the usual fateful premonition struck the woman, and saying "I must go
now," she only half-unconsciously precipitated the end. For, as she
rose, he caught first her hand and then her waist, and attempted to
raise the face that was suddenly bending down as if seeking to hide
itself in the hay. It was a brief struggle, ending in a submission as
sudden, and their lips met in a kiss, so eager that it might have been
impending for days instead of minutes.

"Oh, Sue! where are ye?"

It was her husband's voice, out of a darkness that they only then
realized. The man threw her aside with a roughness that momentarily
shocked her above any sense of surprise or shame: SHE would have
confronted her husband in his arms,--glorified and translated,--had he
but kept her there. Yet she answered, with a quiet, level voice that
astonished her lover, "Here! I'm just coming down!" and walked coolly
to the ladder. Looking over, and seeing her husband with the deputy
standing in the barnyard, she quickly returned, put her finger to her
lips, made a gesture for her companion to conceal himself in the hay
again, and was turning away, when, perhaps shamed by her superior
calmness, he grasped her hand tightly and whispered, "Come again
tonight, dear; do!" She hesitated, raised her hand suddenly to her lips,
and then quickly disengaging it, slipped down the ladder.

"Ye haven't done much work yet as I kin see," said Ira wearily. "Whitey
and Red Tip [the cows] are hangin' over the corral, just waitin'."

"The yellow hen we reckoned was lost is sittin' in the hayloft, and
mustn't be disturbed," said Mrs. Beasley, with decision; "and ye'll have
to take the hay from the stack to-night. And," with an arch glance at
the deputy, "as I don't see that you two have done much either, you're
just in time to help fodder down."

Setting the three men to work with the same bright audacity, the task
was soon completed--particularly as the deputy found no opportunity for
exclusive dalliance with Mrs. Beasley. She shut the barn door herself,
and led the way to the house, learning incidentally that the deputy had
abandoned the chase, was to occupy a "shake-down" on the kitchen-floor
that night with the constable, and depart at daybreak. The gloom of
her husband's face had settled into a look of heavy resignation and
alternate glance