give them up. Now suppose you go on back home to-night and don't say
anything to your mother about the matter, and to-morrow I'll ask Mr.
Crabtree to step over and make it up with Bob for her. I feel sure
she'll invite them both in to supper, and then sometime soon we can
all discuss the veil-bouquet question. You aren't in a hurry, are
you?"

"Naw," answered Bob promptly. "Me and Paw ain't got all the winter
wheat in yet, and we've got to cut clover next week. We're mighty
busy now. I ain't in no hurry."

"And I don't want to get married no way except when the briar roses is
in bloom so I can have the church tucked out in 'em. And I've got to
get some pretty clothes made, too," answered Louisa Helen, thus
putting in direct contrast the feminine and masculine attitude towards
nuptials in general and also in particular.

"Then go on back home, you two," said Everett with a laugh, as he rose
to his feet and drew to hers the now smiling Louisa Helen. "And I
predict that by the time the briar roses are out something will happen
to make it all right. Put your faith in Mr. Crabtree, I should advise,
I suspect that he has--er influence with your mother." A giggle from
Louisa Helen and a guffaw from Bob, as the two young people started on
back along the Road, showed that they had both appreciated his veiled
sally.

And as he stood watching them out of sight down the Road the twilight
faded from off the Valley and darkness came down in a starlit veil
from over old Harpeth. Everett climbed up and seated himself on the
top rail of the fence and again gave himself over to his moods. This
time one of bitterness, almost anger, rose to the surface. The same
old wheel grinding out here in the wilderness that he had left in the
market places of the world. The vision he had caught of the great
cycle being turned by some still greater source above the hills was--a
vision. The wheels ground on with the victims strapped and the cogs
dripping. Loot and the woman--loot and the woman! And he had thought
that out here "_in the hollow of His hand_" he had lost the sound of
that grind. And such a woman--the lovely gracious thing with the
unfaithful, dishonored lover's child in her arms, other women's
tumbling children clinging to her skirts and with hands outstretched
to protect and comfort the old gray heads in her care! A woman with a
sorrow in her heart but with eyes that were deep blue pools in which
there mirrored loves for all her lit