t they say he takes her to ride, and I'm sure he don't wait on
nobody else. But I should think, if he was a going to speak out he'd
ought to do it, and not waste his time a keepin' a puttin' it off. Why,
my fust husband wasn't but a week makin' up his mind, and pa," she
continued, referring openly to Grandpa Keeler, "he wan't quite so
outspoken, to be sure; but he came around to it in the course of a month
or two, and kind o' beat around the bush then, and wanted to know what I
thought on't, and--wall, I told him 'yes,'--I didn't see no use in bein'
squeamish so long as I'd once made up my mind to it."

"I asked ye as soon as I could!" exclaimed Grandpa, bristling on the
defensive. "I wanted to be sure o' gittin' a house fust."

"There!" said Madeline briskly, putting down her foot, and tossing her
head as she addressed the old couple. "Be good, children! Be good!--and
now, do you mark my words, it isn't Becky Weir that Dave Rollin is
hanging around here for. There's some folks to be made up to, and there's
some folks, jest as good, to be stepped on. And Dave Rollin--what does he
think of Wallencamp folks, anyway? He wouldn't take the trouble to kick
'em out of his road; he'd jest step on 'em, and he's steppin' on Beck
Weir. He don't care enough about her to let her alone."

"Wall, I--don't--know!" said Grandma. "What's he stayin' for, then?"

"Staying! Lord, ma!" said Madeline sharply, with a strange cold glitter
in her eye. "How do I know what he's stayin' for? Oh," she added, in a
tone of lighter bitterness, "It's a mild winter and open roads. He's
sketching they say, and exploring the Cape. Let him explore from one end
to the other, he won't find such another fool as himself."

"We can't help nothin' by talkin' that way;" said Grandma Keeler, a
little pale, though calmly cognizant of Madeline's emotion.

"You know I had an experience of my own once, ma," said Madeline,
terribly white about the lips.

"I wouldn't rake up old wounds, daughter." There was nothing unfeeling in
Grandma Keeler's tone.

The daughter shut her lips together tightly, as though more than she had
intended to reveal had already escaped them, and applied herself
desperately to her sewing.

I fancied that I had detected a personally aggressive quality in
Madeline's indignant tone.

"I don't see why we should feel that way about Rebecca," I said. "The
more one gets acquainted with her, the more lovable and worthy of respect
she seems. I