ster in a sunbonnet. In fact, when he considered it he would not like to
take his wife to Albany in a sunbonnet. It behoved him to consider. The
outrageous words which he had heard Mistress Leavenworth speak to his wife
still burned in his brain like needles of torture: revelation of the true
character of the woman he had once longed to call his own.

But that bonnet! He stood and examined it. What was a bonnet like? The
proper kind of a bonnet for a woman in his wife's position to wear. He had
never noticed a woman's bonnet before except as he had absent-mindedly
observed them in front of him in meeting. Now he brought his mind to bear
upon that bonnet. It seemed to be made up of three component parts--a
foundation: a girdle apparently to bind together and tie on the head; and
a decoration. Straw, silk and some kind of unreal flowers. Was that all?
He stooped down and picked the thing up with the tips of his fingers, held
it at arms length as though it were contaminating, and examined the
inside. Ah! There was another element in its construction, a sort of frill
of something thin,--hardly lace,--more like the foam of a cloud. He touched
the tulle clumsily with his thumb and finger and then he dropped the
bonnet back into the corner again. He thought he understood well enough to
know one again. He stood pondering a moment, and looked at his watch.

Yes, it was still early enough to try at least, though of course the shop
would be closed. But the village milliner lived behind her little store.
It would be easy enough to rouse her, and he had known her all his life.
He took his hat as eagerly as he had done when as a boy Aunt Clarinda had
given him a penny to buy a top and permission to go to the corner and buy
it before Aunt Amelia woke up from her nap. He went quietly out of the
door, fastening it behind him and walked rapidly down the street.

Yes, the milliner's shop was closed, but a light in the side windows
shining through the veiling hop-vines guided him, and he was presently
tapping at Miss Mitchell's side door. She opened the door cautiously and
peeped over her glasses at him, and then a bright smile overspread her
face. Who in the whole village did not welcome David whenever he chanced
to come? Miss Mitchell was resting from her labors and reading the village
paper. She had finished the column of gossip and was quite ready for a
visitor.

"Come right in, David," she said heartily, for she had known him all the