eting fancy for Fanny Dodge, a sort of love in
idleness, which comes to a man like the delicate, floating seeds of
the parasite orchid, capable indeed of exquisite blossoming; but
deadly to the tree upon which it fastens. He had resolved to free
himself. It was a sensible resolve. He was glad he had made up his
mind to it before it was too late. Upon the possible discomfiture of
Fanny Dodge he bestowed but a single thought: She would get over it.
"It" meaning a quite pardonable fancy--he refused to give it a more
specific name--for himself. To the unvoiced opinions of Mrs. Solomon
Black, Mrs. Deacon Whittle, Ellen Dix, Mrs. Abby Daggett and all the
other women of his parish he was wholly indifferent. Men, he was glad
to remember, never bothered their heads about another man's love
affairs....

The chairs from the sitting room had been removed to the yard, where
they were grouped about small tables adequately illuminated by the
moon and numerous Japanese lanterns. Every second chair appeared to
be filled by a giggling, pink-cheeked girl; the others being suitably
occupied by youths of the opposite sex--all pleasantly occupied. The
minister conscientiously searched for the chair he had promised to
fetch to Fanny Dodge; but it never once occurred to him to bring
Fanny out to the cool loveliness of mingled moon and lantern-light.
There was no unoccupied chair, as he quickly discovered; but he came
presently upon Lydia Orr, apparently doing nothing at all. She was
standing near Mrs. Black's boundary picket fence, shielded from the
observation of the joyous groups about the little tables by the
down-dropping branches of an apple-tree.

"I was looking for you!" said Wesley Elliot.

It was the truth; but it surprised him nevertheless. He supposed he
had been looking for a chair.

"Were you?" said Lydia, smiling.

She moved a little away from him.

"I must go in," she murmured.

"Why must you? It's delightful out here--so cool and--"

"Yes, I know. But the others-- Why not bring Miss Dodge out of that
hot room? I thought she looked tired."

"I didn't notice," he said.... "Just look at that flock of little
white clouds up there with the moon shining through them!"

Lydia glided away over the soft grass.

"I've been looking at them for a long time," she said gently. "I must
go now and help cut more cake."

He made a gesture of disgust.

"They're fairly stuffing," he complained. "And, anyway, there are
plenty of w