strolled past Sylvia's house and
the Thayer house, Barney's new one and Cephas Barnard's.

They looked sharply and furtively to see if Sylvia had a light in her
best room, and if Richard Alger's head was visible through the
window, if Barney Thayer had gone home and yielded to his mother's
commands, if any more work had been done on the new house, and if he
perchance had gone a-courting Charlotte again.

But they never saw Richard Alger's face in poor Sylvia's best room,
although her candle was always lit, they never saw Barney at his old
home, the new house advanced not a step beyond its incompleteness,
and Barney never was seen at Charlotte Barnard's on a Sabbath night.
Once, indeed, there was a rumor to that effect. A man's smooth dark
head was visible at one of the front-room windows opposite
Charlotte's fair one, and everybody took it for Barney's.

The next morning Barney's mother came to the door of the new house.
"I want to know if it's true that you went over there last night,"
she said; her voice was harsh, but her mouth was yielding.

"No, I didn't," said Barney, shortly, and Deborah went away with a
harsh exclamation. Before long she knew and everybody else knew that
the man who had been seen at Charlotte's window was not Barney, but
Thomas Payne.

Presently Ephraim came slowly across to the garden-patch where Barney
was planting. He was breathing heavily, and grinning. When he reached
Barney he stood still watching him, and the grin deepened. "Say,
Barney," he panted at length.

"Well, what is it?"

"You've lost your girl; did you know it, Barney?"

Barney muttered something unintelligible; it sounded like the growl
of a dog, but Ephraim was not intimidated. He chuckled with delight
and spoke again. "Say, Barney, Thomas Payne's got your girl; did you
know it, Barney?"

Barney turned threateningly, but he was helpless before his brother's
sickly face, and Ephraim knew it. That purple hue and that panting
breath had gained an armistice for him on many a battle-field, and he
had a certain triumph in it. It was power of a lugubrious sort,
certainly, but still it was power, and so to be enjoyed.

"Thomas Payne's got your girl," he repeated; "he was over there
a-courtin' of her last night; a-settin' up along of her."

Barney took a step forward, and Ephraim fell back a little, still
grinning imperturbably. "You mind your own business," Barney said,
between his teeth; and right upon his words followe