married woman.

Now that all the fuss and fury were over, it seemed quite a silly
exhibition she had made of herself. She almost wished that she had
stayed at home.

"The little loft room is yours, Joyce, for as long as you want it," Isa
was saying, through the sobering silence. "I ain't going to side with
Jared Birkdale when a woman's sense of right has been roused. Jared's
wits are the keenest and the cruelest round here, and the poison in his
tongue is the deadliest; I guess _I_ know. Are you coming in, child? The
bed's made, but you best carry a pitcher of fresh water up with you."

"I'll be there in a minute, Isa, and the cracked pitcher's by the well,
isn't it?"

"Yes," Isa replied; "and I'll leave a lighted candle for you, the ile is
pretty low in the lamp. Good night, child, and don't fuss. I never saw
fussing hurt any one but the fusser."

Joyce rose stiffly and stood by the open door. She stretched her limbs
and winced at the pain in them. Then she clasped her aching hands above
her head and permitted her tired spirit one long, heavy sigh.

She stood for some time in that relieved state. The chill of the
deepening night soothed her, and the late new moon looked down through
the pines at her--then she turned sharply. Some one was near!

Her startled glance fell upon Jude Lauzoon. He was crouching upon the
step of the porch.

"I thought you was sleeping, standing up," he whispered hoarsely. "I
didn't want to scare you none."

"Why are you here?" Joyce's heart fluttered. Had he heard all?

"Why are you?" Jude turned the tables.

"Where else should I be--to--to--" she looked at him appealingly, "to
get ready to be married?"

Jude was master of the situation in a way Joyce did not know. He could
afford to be condescendingly gracious. He, of all who had taken part in
this poor little drama, now held the centre of the stage, and the
knowledge gave him a certain manliness highly becoming.

"Stay here until we get married--is that it?"

Joyce nodded.

Jude felt a pity for her that would have been contempt had not her
beauty and charm mastered him. He was going to clutch her once and for
all, but he was willing to let her see that he only meant, since he must
have her, to clutch close enough to bind her to him. He was not going to
strangle her: he meant only to stifle her. Jude was cool now, and alert.

"I've got something to say to you, Joyce, and it better be said and done
with. I slept on it last