at picnics."

Arthur expressed his willingness to be useful. He would be glad, he
said, to do his best to give Miss Martha a pleasant time.

And so it came about that Arthur, in his courteous way, escorted
Martha through the throng of picnickers, found a seat for her at the
table, and waited on her with that deference that seems to come so
easy to the well-bred young Englishman.

Arthur was an open-hearted young fellow, and finding Martha very
sympathetic, told her about his plans. Thursa was coming from England
in December to marry him, and he was going to have a house put up
just as soon as the harvest was over. His father had sent him the
money, and so he was not depending entirely on the harvest. He showed
her the plan of the house and consulted her on the best position for
the cellar door and the best sort of cistern. He showed her a new
photo of Thursa that he had just received. She was a fluffy-haired
little thing in a much befrilled dress, holding a fan coquettishly
behind her head. Martha noticed how fondly he looked at it, and for a
moment a shivering sense of disappointment smote her heart. But she
resolutely put it from her and feasted her eyes on the lovelight in
his, even though she knew it was the face of another woman that had
kindled it.

Arthur was a wholesome-looking young man, with a beaming face of
unaffected good-humour, and to Martha it seemed the greatest
happiness just to be near him and hear his voice. She tried to forget
everything save that he was here beside her, for this one dear sweet
afternoon.

When the thought of Thursa's coming would intrude on her, or the
bitterer thought still that she was only a plain, sunburnt, country
girl, with rough hands and uncouth ways, she forced them away from
her, even as you and I lie down again, and try to gather up the
ravelled threads of a sweet dream, knowing well that it is only a
dream and that waking time is drawing near, but holding it close to
our hearts as long as we can.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE LACROSSE MATCH

What's come of old Bill Lindsay and the
Saxhorn fellers, say?
I want to hear the old band play.

_----James Whitcomb Riley._

THE great event of the Pioneers' Picnic was the lacrosse match
between Millford and Hillsboro. It was held at three o'clock in the
afternoon, and everybody was there.

The Millford lacrosse boys were in serious financial difficulty--
"everything gone but their honour," as one sentime