his throat. Huldah stood near the
window winding the old clock. In her right hand was a "Farmer's
Almanac." How well he knew the yellow cover! and how like to the
Huldah of seventeen was the Huldah of thirty-six! It was incredible
that the pangs of disappointed love could make so little inroad on a
woman's charms. Rosy cheeks, plump figure, clear eyes, with a little
more snap in them than was necessary for connubial comfort, but not a
whit too much for beauty; brown hair curling round her ears and
temples--what an ornament to a certain house he knew in Goshen,
Indiana!

She closed the wooden door of the clock, and, turning, took a generous
bite from the side of a mellow August sweeting that lay on the table.
At this rather inauspicious moment her eye caught Pitt's. The sight of
her old lover drove all prudence and reserve from her mind, and she
came to the door with such an intoxicating smile and such welcoming
hands that he would have kissed her then and there, even if he had not
come to Pleasant River for that especial purpose. Of course he forgot
the speech, but his gestures were convincing, and he mumbled a
sufficient number of extracts from it to convince Huldah that he was
in a proper frame of mind--this phrase meaning to a woman the one in
which she can do anything she likes with a man.

They were too old, doubtless, to cry and laugh in each other's arms,
and ask forgiveness for past follies, and regret the wasted years, and
be thankful for present hope and life and love; but that is what they
did, old as they were.

"I wouldn't have any business to ask you to marry such a dictatorial
fool as I used to be, Huldah," said Pitt; "but I've got over
considerable of my foolishness, and do say you will. Say, too, you
won't make me wait any longer, but marry me Sunday or Monday. This is
Thursday, and I must be back in Goshen next week at this time. Will
you, Huldah?"

Huldah blushed, but shook her head. She looked lovely when she
blushed, and she hadn't lost the trick of it even at thirty-six.

"I know it's soon; but never mind getting ready. If you won't say
Monday, make it Tuesday--do."

She shook her head again.

"Wednesday, then. _Do_ say Wednesday, Huldy dear."

The same smile of gentle negation.

He dropped her hand disconsolately.

"Then I'll have to come back at Christmas-time, I s'pose. It's just my
busy season now, or I would stay right here on this doorstep till you
was ready, for it seems to me