horns tossed
over some bars at the right of the field; a boy crossed it with long,
loping strides and preliminary swishes of a birch stick. Then a
whistle blew with a hoarse musical note, and a bell struck six times.

Lois freed her hand and got up. "I guess I must go," said she. Her
cheeks were blushing softly as she put on her hat.

"Well, I should like to sit here an hour longer, but maybe your aunt
will think it's growing damp for you to be out-of-doors," said
Francis, standing up.

As they went between the graves, he caught her hand again, and led
her softly along. When they reached the gate, he dropped it with a
kindly pressure.

"Now remember, you are going to cheer up," he said, "and you're going
to have real nice times here in Elliot." When they reached the
Maxwell house, his aunt was coming down the walk.

"Oh, there you are!" she called out. "I was jest goin' home. Well,
what did you think of the Mason monument, Lois?"

"It's real handsome."

"Ain't it handsome? An' wa'n't the flowers on Mis' Perry's grave
elegant? Good-night. I'm goin' to have you an' your aunt come over
an' take tea to-morrow, an' then you can get acquainted with Flora."

"Good-night," said Francis, smiling, and the aunt and nephew went on
down the road. She carried something bulky under her shawl, and she
walked with a curious side-wise motion, keeping the side next her
nephew well forward.

"Don't you want me to carry your bundle, Aunt Jane?" Lois heard him
say as they walked off.

"No," the old woman replied, hastily and peremptorily. "It ain't
anything."

When Lois went into the house, her mother gave her a curious look of
stern defiance and anxiety. She saw that her eyes were red, as if she
had been crying, but she said nothing, and went about getting tea.

After tea the minister and his wife called. Green River was a
conservative little New England village; it had always been the
custom there when the minister called to invite him to offer a
prayer. Mrs. Field felt it incumbent upon her now; if she had any
reluctance, she did not yield to it. Just before the callers left she
said, with the conventional solemn drop of the voice, "Mr. Wheeler,
won't you offer a prayer before you go?"

The minister was an elderly man with a dull benignity of manner; he
had not said much; his wife, who was portly and full of gracious
volubility, had done most of the talking. Now she immediately sank
down upon her knees with a wide flare