holiday for his sweetheart and
himself. He stole one glance around the building to where a patient
figure waited for him. Then he fled down a side alley and soon was out
upon the country road, tramping soddenly homeward through the dust, his
chin sunk in his breast and his hands clenched tight at his sides. Now
and then he stopped and bitterly hurled a stone at a piping bird on a
fence, or gay Bob White in the fields. At noon the patient figure was
still waiting in the corner of the court-house yard, meekly twisting the
golden ring upon her finger.

But the flushed young man who had spoken thickly to her deserter drew
an envied roll of bankbills from his pocket and began to bet with
tipsy caution, while the circle about the gamblers watched with fervid
interest, especially Mr. Bardlock, Town Marshal.

From far up Main Street came the cry "She's a-comin'! She's a-comin'!"
and, this announcement of the parade proving only one of a dozen false
alarms, a thousand discussions took place over old-fashioned silver
timepieces as to when "she" was really due. Schofields' Henry was much
appealed to as an arbiter in these discussions, from a sense of his
having a good deal to do with time in a general sort of way; and thus
Schofields' came to be reminded that it was getting on toward ten
o'clock, whereas, in the excitement of festival, he had not yet struck
nine. This, rushing forthwith to do, he did; and, in the elation of the
moment, seven or eight besides. Miss Helen Sherwood was looking down on
the mass of shifting color from a second-story window--whither many
an eye was upturned in wonder--and she had the pleasure of seeing
Schofields' emerge on the steps beneath her, when the bells had done,
and heard the cheers (led by Mr. Martin) with which the laughing crowd
greeted his appearance after the performance of his feat.

She turned beamingly to Harkless. "What a family it is!" she laughed.
"Just one big, jolly family. I didn't know people could be like this
until I came to Plattville."

"That is the word for it," he answered, resting his hand on the casement
beside her. "I used to think it was desolate, but that was long ago." He
leaned from the window to look down. In his dark cheek was a glow Carlow
folk had never seen there; and somehow he seemed less thin and tired;
indeed, he did not seem tired at all, by far the contrary; and he
carried himself upright (when he was not stooping to see under the
hat), though not as i