straight.

"Well," said Mrs. Pritchett, more briskly, "ye can't always sometimes tell
what the matter is with these young gals. They gits crotchets in their
heads."

She kept up the fiction that Sairy was a young and flighty miss; but even
'Phemie could no longer laugh at her for it. It was the mother's pitiful
attempt to aid her daughter's chances for that greatly-to-be-desired
condition--matrimony.

The roads were still muddy; nevertheless the drive over the ridge to
Cornell Chapel was lovely. For some time the girls had been noting the
procession of carriages and wagons winding over the mountain roads, all
verging upon this main trail over the ridge which passed so close to
Hillcrest.

Lucas, driving the ponies at a good clip, joined the procession. Lyddy
and 'Phemie recognized several of the young people they had met the night
before at the Temperance Club--notably the young men.

Joe Badger flashed by in a red-wheeled buggy and beside him sat the buxom,
red-faced girl who had voiced her distaste for the city-bred newcomers
right at the start. Badger bowed with a flourish; but his companion's nose
was in the air.

"I never did think that Nettie Meyers had very good manners," announced
Mrs. Pritchett.

They overtook the schoolmaster jogging along behind his old gray mare.
He, likewise, bowed profoundly to the Bray girls.

"I am afraid you did not enjoy yourself last night at the club, Miss
Bray," he said to Lyddy, who was on his side of the buckboard, as Lucas
pulled out to pass him. "You went home so early. I was looking for you
after it was all over."

"Oh, but you are mistaken," declared Lyddy, pleasantly. "I had a very nice
time."

As they drove on Mrs. Pritchett's fat face became a study.

"And he never even asked arter Sairy!" she gasped. "And he let her come
home alone last night. Humph! he must ha' been busy huntin' for _you_,
Miss Bray."

Lucas cast oil on the troubled waters by saying:

"An' I carried Miss Lyddy and Miss 'Phemie away from all of 'em. I guess
_all_ the Pritchetts ain't so slow, Maw."

"Humph! Wa-al," admitted the good lady, somewhat mollified, "you _hev_
seemed to 'woke up lately, Lucas."

The chapel was built of graystone and its north wall was entirely covered
with ivy. It nestled in a grove of evergreens, with the tidy fenced
graveyard behind it. The visitors thought it a very beautiful place.

Everybody was rustling into church when they arrived, so there were no
in