said Billy. "I bet on Charlotte to beat out the whole Settlement
the first day if allowed full swing."

"If Goodloe didn't stand behind this mixing of--of social oil
and--water, I'd be scared to death," said Mark.

"Mike Burns and Henry Todd and Spain had better be afraid of a loss of
progeny," jeered Billy. "I bet Charlotte and James and the scions of the
Sprouls and Paynes can lead the Settlement scions into by-paths of
iniquity of which they never dreamed."

"I wish you had ten, blast you, for being so sensible as to have none,"
Mark answered him, and I felt rather than saw the bolt of pain that shot
through Billy's heart. It's because Nell and her children are not his
that Billy is bad, and what is going to help him?

"Well, let's go over to the parsonage and tell Goodloe all about it,"
father suggested, and the other men followed him out into the garden
path that led through the Eden of my foremothers straight into that
little Methodist chapel. Only Nickols remained with me upon the wide
high vine-shadowed porch.

"I'll marry you the first of October, Nickols, and then we can go to
France as you want to," I said to him without any preamble, and as I
spoke I drew close to him as if for protection from something I didn't
understand.

"Fleeing from the wrath to come?" questioned Nickols with a tender jeer
as he took me in his arms and his lips sought the kiss I had been
keeping from him. Again I refused it and he laughed as he pushed me from
him and there was still more of the jeer in the laugh though the passion
in his eyes was devouring and glad.

"Suppose we go north, right after Mr. Jeffries has finished his visit.
Let's have the ideal village wedding. We'll have out the school children
if any are left from the mix-up, and Goodloe can make us man and wife
out here under the trees in our own garden. Then we'll go away from the
whole show, the Christian religion included, and live happy ever after."
And as he spoke Nickols again drew me to him and sought the kiss I still
could not give him.

"Nickols, Mother Spurlock and poor little Mrs. Burns and--and Mr.
Goodloe have something very real that we haven't," I faltered and,
utterly weary, I laid my head down against his strong shoulder.

"That's what they say, but they can't prove it. They can't pass it on,
so it mustn't really be anything. They are not tightwads, so they
wouldn't hold back on us with their salvation, would they? Well, then,
they haven't a