of Susanna or go and shoot myself."

"That would be about the only piece of foolishness you have n't
committed already!" replied Louisa, with a biting satire that would
have made any man let go of the trigger in case he had gone so far as to
begin pulling it.

"Where is she?" John went on, without anger at her sarcasm. "Where is
she, how is she, what is she living on, is she well, is she just as
bitter as she was at first, does she ever speak of coming back? Tell me
something, tell me anything. I will know something. I say I _will_!"

Louisa's calm demeanor began to show a little agitation, for she was not
used to the sight of emotion. "I can't tell you where Susanna is, for I
made her a solemn promise I would n't unless you or Jack were in danger
of some kind; but I don't mind telling you this much, that she's well
and in the safest kind of a shelter, for she's been living from the
first in a Shaker Settlement."

"Shaker Settlement!" cried John, starting up from his seat on the
steps. "What's that? I know Shaker egg-beaters and garden-seeds
and rocking-chairs and oh, yes, I remember their religion's against
marriage. That's the worst thing you could have told me; that ends all
hope; if they once get hold of a woman like Susanna, they'll never
let go of her; if they don't believe in a woman's marrying a good man,
they'd never let her go back to a bad one. Oh, if I had only known
this before; if only you'd told me, Louisa, perhaps I could have done
something. Maybe they take vows or sign contracts, and so I have lost
her altogether."

"I don't know much about their beliefs, and Susanna never explained
them," returned Louisa, nervously "but now that you've got something
to offer her, why don't you write and ask her to come back to you? I'll
send your letter to her."

"I don't dare, Louisa, I don't dare," groaned John, leaning his head
against one of the pillars of the porch. "I can't tell you the fear I
have of Susanna after the way I've neglected her this last year. If she
should come in at the gate this minute, I could n't meet her eyes; if
you'd read the letter she left me, you'd feel the same way. I deserved
it, to the last word, but oh, it was like so many separate strokes of
lightning, and every one of them burned. It was nothing but the truth,
but it was cut in with a sharp sword. Unless she should come back to me
of her own accord, and she never will, I have n't got the courage to
ask her; just have n't got