'tended to her edication and
privileges, and made herself a fit helpmeet for any man, she would say
that there were few men in these parts that was as "comf'ble ketch" as
Lish Braggs, or would make as good a husband and provider.

The blood suddenly left Cissy's cheeks and then returned with
uncomfortable heat. Her aunt's words had suddenly revealed to her
the meaning of the uneasiness she had felt in Braggs's house that
morning--the old repulsion that had come at his touch. She had never
thought of him as a suitor or a beau before, yet it now seemed perfectly
plain to her that this was the ulterior meaning of his generosity. And
yet she received that intelligence with the same mixed emotions with
which she had received his offer to educate her. She did not conceal
from herself the pride and satisfaction she felt in this presumptive
selection of her as his wife; the worldly advantages that it promised;
nor that it was a destiny far beyond her deserts. Yet she was conscious
of exactly the same sense of wrong-doing in her preferences--something
that seemed vaguely akin to that "conviction of sin" of which she had
heard so much--as when she received his offer of education. It was this
mixture of fear and satisfaction that caused her alternate paling and
flushing, yet this time it was the fear that came first. Perhaps she was
becoming unduly sensitive. The secretiveness of her sex came to her aid
here, and she awkwardly changed the subject. Aunt Vashti, complacently
believing that her words had fallen on fruitful soil, discreetly said no
more.

It was a hot morning when Cissy walked alone to chapel early next
Sunday. There was a dry irritation in the air which even the northwest
trades, blowing through the seaward gorge, could not temper, and for the
first time in her life she looked forward to the leafy seclusion of the
buried chapel with a feeling of longing. She had avoided her youthful
escort, for she wished to practice alone for an hour before the service
with the new harmonium that had taken the place of the old accordion and
its unskillful performer. Perhaps, too, there was a timid desire to be
at her best on the return of Brother Seabright, and to show him, with
a new performance, that the "heavenly gift" had not been neglected. She
opened the chapel with the key she always carried, "swished" away an
intrusive squirrel, left the door and window open for a moment, until
the beating of frightened wings against the r