, a little blue-silk mantle to
embroider for Dorothy Fair's wedding outfit, and sang over it as she
worked.

Still, in a way, although her pride led her to it, her singing and
her gayety were no pretence, for Madelon, through much suffering, had
reached that growth in love which enabled her to see over her own
self and her own needs. That knife-thrust she had meant for her lover
had stilled forever the jealous temper in her own heart, and she
fairly dreamed as she embroidered Dorothy's bridal mantle some dreams
of happiness that might have been Burr's; so filled was she with
purest love for him that his imagination possessed her own.

Chapter XXIII

It was told on good authority in the village that Parson Fair had
paid all Burr Gordon's back interest money on his mortgage, and so
released him from the danger of foreclosure; and then on equally good
authority it was denied. There was much discussion over it, but one
day the loafers in the store arrived at the truth. Parson Fair had
indeed offered to pay the interest, and Burr had declined. He had
also refused to live with his bride in his father-in-law's house, and
when Parson Fair had, with his gracefully austere manner, intimated
that he should be unwilling to place his daughter in such uncertain
shelter, had replied harshly that Dorothy should have a roof over her
head of his own providing while he lived; when he was dead it would
be time to talk about her father's.

When Burr had gone to Lot Gordon and offered to part with a small
wood-lot of his, with a quantity of half-grown wood thereon, at
two-thirds of its real value to pay the interest, Margaret Bean had
listened at the door, and thus the story.

"It is a sacrifice of a full third of its value, you know well
enough," Burr had said, standing moodily before his cousin. "If I
could wait for the growth of the wood, 'twould bring much more, but
I'll call it even on the interest I owe you, if you will. This is the
last foot of land I own clear."

For answer Lot had bidden Burr open his desk and bring him a certain
paper from a certain corner. Then Margaret Bean had opened the door a
crack, and had with her two peering eyes seen Lot Gordon take his pen
in hand and write upon the paper, and show it to his cousin Burr.

"Very well," said Burr, "I will go home and get the deed of the
wood-lot," and motioned towards the door, which drew to in a soft
panic as if with the wind.

"Stop," said Lot; and Marg