tly kind--the possessor,
in spite of his uninspiring exterior, of all the sterling qualities of
love; in short, "John," the honest, patient, constant "John" of
fiction. His affection for the maiden might be of so high a nature
that he would not even claim her as a wife after marriage until she
had learned truly to love him, which of course she always did. If Mr.
Sutton were really "John"--Dosia half-freakishly cast a swift
inventorial side-glance at the gentleman.

The next moment they turned into the highroad, and a rippling smile
overspread her face.

"Here's the very lady for you now," she remarked flippantly, as Ada
Snow, prayer-book in hand, came into view at the crossing against a
dust-cloud in the background, on her way to a friend's house from
service at the little mission chapel on the hill. Ada's cheeks took on
a not unbecoming flush, her eyes drooped modestly beneath Mr. Sutton's
glance,--a maidenly tribute to masculine superiority,--before she went
down the side-road.

Mr. Sutton's face reddened also. "Now, Miss Dosia! Miss Ada may be
very charming, but I wouldn't marry Miss Ada if she were the only girl
left in the world. I give you my word I wouldn't. _You_ ought to
know----"

"We'll have to hurry, or we'll be caught in the rain," interrupted
Dosia, rushing ahead with a rapidity that made further conversation an
affair of ineffective jerks, though she dreaded to get back to the
house and be left alone to the numb dreariness of her thoughts. Justin
and Lois were gathering up the rugs and sofa-pillows, as they reached
the piazza, to take them in from the blackly advancing storm. Lois
greeted Mr. Sutton with unusual cordiality; perhaps she also dreaded
the accustomed dead level.

"Do come in; you'll be caught in the rain if you go on. Can't you stay
to a Sunday night's tea with us?"

"Oh, do," urged Dosia, disregarding the delighted fervor of his gaze.
Lois' hospitality, never her strong point, had been much in abeyance
lately; to have a fourth at the table would be a blessed relief. She
felt a new tie with Mr. Sutton: they both sympathized with Lawson,
believed in him!

She ran up-stairs to change her walking-suit for a soft little
round-necked summer gown of pinkish tint, made at Mrs. Leverich's,
which somehow made her pale little face and fair, curling hair look
like a cameo. When she came down again, she ensconced herself in one
corner of the small spindle sofa, to which Zaidee instantly
gravit