ause my mother
will be on her way to a poor thing that's just lost her only child.
Where have you been these past weeks? I haven't seen you for ages."

"Oh, I've been rather busy, too, Padre. And I haven't been quite
well--" she hesitated. I thought I understood. For, possibly from some
servant who had overheard Mrs. Eustis expostulating with her daughter,
the news of Mary Virginia's unannounced engagement had sifted pretty
thoroughly throughout the length and breadth of Appleboro; a town
where an unfledged and callow rumor will start out of a morning and
come home to roost at night with talons and tailfeathers.

That Mary Virginia had all James Eustis's own quiet will-power,
everybody knew. She would not, perhaps, marry Laurence in the face of
her mother's open opposition. Neither would she marry anybody else to
please her mother in defiance of her own heart. There was a pretty
struggle ahead, and Appleboro took sides for and against, and settled
itself with eager expectancy to watch the outcome.

So I concluded that Mary Virginia had not been having a pleasant time.
Indeed, it struck me that she was really unwell. One might even
suspect she had known sleepless nights, from the shadowed eyes and the
languor of her manner.

Just then, swinging down the street head erect, shoulders square, the
freezing weather only intensifying his glowing fairness, came Howard
Hunter. The man was clear red and white. His gold hair and beard
glittered, his bright blue eyes snapped and sparkled. He seemed to
rejoice in the cold, as if some Viking strain in him delighted in its
native air.

As he paused to greet us a coldness not of the weather crept into Mary
Virginia's eyes. She did not speak, but bowed formally. Mr. Hunter,
holding her gaze for a moment, lifted his brows whimsically and
smiled; then, bowing, he passed on. She stood looking after him, her
lips closed firmly upon each other.

Tucking her hand in my arm, she walked with me to the Parish House
gate. No, she said, she couldn't come in. But I was to give her
regards to the Butterfly Man, and her love to Madame.

"Parson," the Butterfly Man asked me that night, "have you seen Mary
Virginia recently?"

"I saw her to-day."

"I saw her to-day, too. She looked worried. She hasn't been here
lately, has she?"

"No. She hasn't been feeling well. I hear Mrs. Eustis has been very
outspoken about the engagement, and I suppose that's what worries Mary
Virginia."

"I don't