heart alone again; while she was at
the Sunk Creek Ranch, his duties called him away so much that there was
no chance for him. Worse still, that habit of birds of a feather brought
about a separation more considerable. She arranged to go East with the
Ogdens. It was so good an opportunity to travel with friends, instead of
making the journey alone!

Molly's term of ministration at the schoolhouse had so pleased Bear
Creek that she was warmly urged to take a holiday. School could afford
to begin a little late. Accordingly, she departed.

The Virginian hid his sore heart from her during the moment of farewell
that they had.

"No, I'll not want any more books," he said, "till yu' come back." And
then he made cheerfulness. "It's just the other way round!" said he.

"What is the other way round?"

"Why, last time it was me that went travelling, and you that stayed
behind."

"So it was!" And here she gave him a last scratch. "But you'll be busier
than ever," she said; "no spare time to grieve about me!"

She could wound him, and she knew it. Nobody else could. That is why she
did it.

But he gave her something to remember, too.

"Next time," he said, "neither of us will stay behind. We'll both go
together."

And with these words he gave her no laughing glance. It was a look that
mingled with the words; so that now and again in the train, both came
back to her, and she sat pensive, drawing near to Bennington and hearing
his voice and seeing his eyes.

How is it that this girl could cry at having to tell Sam Bannett she
could not think of him, and then treat another lover as she treated the
Virginian? I cannot tell you, having never (as I said before) been a
woman myself.

Bennington opened its arms to its venturesome daughter. Much was made
of Molly Wood. Old faces and old places welcomed her. Fatted calves of
varying dimensions made their appearance. And although the fatted calf
is an animal that can assume more divergent shapes than any other known
creature,--being sometimes champagne and partridges, and again cake and
currant wine,--through each disguise you can always identify the same
calf. The girl from Bear Creek met it at every turn.

The Bannetts at Hoosic Falls offered a large specimen to Molly--a dinner
(perhaps I should say a banquet) of twenty-four. And Sam Bannett of
course took her to drive more than once.

"I want to see the Hoosic Bridge," she would say. And when they reached
that well-remem