, reset the
black tie deep hid by his beard, rose and advanced with a
clerical smile whose real kindliness took somewhat from its
offensive unction. "This is the young lady, is it?" said he,
reaching for Susan's rising but listless hand. "She is indeed a
_young_ lady!"

The two Warham men stood, shifting uneasily from leg to leg and
rubbing their faces from time to time. Sallie Warham was
standing also, her big unhealthy face twitching fantastically.
Jeb alone was seated--chair tilted back, hands in trousers
pockets, a bucolic grin of embarrassment giving an expression of
pain to his common features. A strained silence, then Zeke
Warham said:

"I reckon we might as well go ahead."

The preacher took a small black-bound book from the inside
pocket of his limp and dusty coat, cleared his throat, turned
over the pages. That rustling, the creaking of his collar on his
overstarched shirt band, and the buzzing of the mud daubers
round the windows were the only sounds. The preacher found the
place, cleared his throat again.

"Mr. Ferguson----"

Jeb, tall, spare, sallow, rose awkwardly.

"--You and Miss Lenox will take your places here----" and he
indicated a position before him.

Susan was already in place; Jeb shuffled up to stand at her
left. Sallie Warham hid her face in her apron. The preacher
cleared his throat vigorously, began--"Dearly beloved"--and so on
and on. When he put the questions to Susan and Jeb he told them
what answer was expected, and they obeyed him, Jeb muttering,
Susan with a mere, movement of the lips. When he had finished--a
matter of less than three minutes--he shook hands warmly first
with Susan, then with Jeb. "Live in the fear of the Lord," he
said. "That's all that's necessary."

Sallie put down her apron. Her face was haggard and gray. She
kissed Susan tenderly, then led her from the room. They went
upstairs to the bedroom. "Do you want to stay to dinner?" she
asked in the hoarse undertone of funeral occasions. "Or would
you rather go right away?"

"I'd rather go," said the girl.

"You set down and make yourself comfortable. I'll hook up your
shawl strap."

Susan sat by the window, her hands in her lap. The hand with the
new circlet of gold on it was uppermost. Sallie busied herself
with the bundle; abruptly she threw her apron over her face,
knelt by the bed and sobbed and uttered inarticulate moans. The
girl made no sound, did not move, looked unseeingly