looking as
he feared. He betook himself to the village tailor forthwith and ordered a
new suit of clothes, though his Sunday best was by no means shiny yet. He
realized that if he did not win now he never would, and he resolved to do
his best.

On the way home, during all the joltings of the coach over rough roads
Hannah Heath was planning two campaigns, one of love with Lemuel, and one
of hate with Marcia Spafford. She was possessed of knowledge which she
felt would help her in the latter, and often she smiled vindictively as
she laid her neat plans for the destruction of the bride's complacency.

That night the fire in the Heath parlor burned high and glowed, and the
candles in their silver holders flickered across fair Hannah's face as she
dimpled and smiled and coquetted with poor Lemuel. But Lemuel needed no
pity. He was not afraid of Hannah. Not for nothing had he served his seven
years, and he understood every fancy and foible of her shallow nature. He
knew his time had come at last, and he was getting what he had wanted
long, for Lemuel had admired and loved Hannah in spite of the dance she
had led him, and in spite of the other lovers she had allowed to come
between them.

Hannah had not been at home many days before she called upon Marcia.

Marcia had just seated herself at the piano when Hannah appeared to her
from the hall, coming in unannounced through the kitchen door according to
old neighborly fashion.

Marcia was vexed. She arose from the instrument and led the way to the
little morning room which was sunny and cosy, and bare of music or books.
She did not like to visit with Hannah in the parlor. Somehow her presence
reminded her of the evil face of Harry Temple as he had stooped to kiss
her.

"You know how to play, too, don't you?" said Hannah as they sat down.
"Your sister plays beautifully. Do you know the new song, 'Home, Sweet
Home?' She plays it with so much feeling and sings it so that one would
think her heart was breaking for her home. You must have been a united
family." Hannah said it with sharp scrutiny in voice and eyes.

"Sit down, Miss Heath," said Marcia coolly, lowering the yellow shades
that her visitor's eyes might not be troubled by a broad sunbeam. "Did you
have a pleasant time in New York?"

Hannah could not be sure whether or not the question was an evasion. The
utterly child-like manner of Marcia disarmed suspicion.

"Oh, delightful, of course. Could any one have anyth