ied. The little scamp declares he is engaged to Carrie, and, instead
of giving the report the lie, she actually seems proud of it."

"But how about your marrying?" Henley questioned.

"Me? Oh, I've got my trousseau ready, every stitch of it, including hat,
gloves, stockings, and what not."

"You don't tell me--well, that _is_ news!" Henley exclaimed in surprise.

"Well, it ain't to me," Dixie laughed. "You see, Alfred, it is the same
old outfit that I laid in a year ago and keep in storage. It hain't
exactly the latest wrinkle as to style, but I could cut away and add a
flounce here and a ruffle there, and not have so much cash to lay out as
I did when I missed fire that time. But I don't think I'll get to use it
soon. Field-work in the broiling sun and setting on a divan with a dinky
fan to your face and a young man to peep over it don't hitch, somehow.
And I'm still deep in debt to old Welborne. He's the only man I make
love to, but I don't get a cent off for my smiles; he growls and
grumbles every time I see him about hard times and the like. But I'll
pay out one of these days. As you pass it in the morning I want you to
just take a look at my stand of cotton; if the drought will let it alone
I'll make five bales. Now I must go. I know you'll keep your promise, so
I ain't going to worry. Good-night."

"Good-night," he echoed, and as she moved away in the darkness he took
up his valise and turned his face toward the farm-house. "She's right,"
he muttered. "God bless her, she's plumb right."

CHAPTER XII

The Allens had gone, taking with them the baby things, which Henley had
prevailed upon them to accept. He sank into his accustomed place at home
and at the store as naturally as if he had been away only for a day. The
news of his return drew around him many of the motley ilk who made
trading and swapping both a business and an avocation. They seldom dealt
with him, to be sure, but it was a liberal education to hear his
experiences, and even better to see him actually make a deal. On his
first day at home he had bought a lame horse for the small sum of fifty
dollars, after he had delivered a free lecture about the great "American
Cruelty to Animals Association," as he called it. And, with his eyes on
the owner, he gave it as his opinion that in a more enlightened
community a man who would ride a horse in that condition would be
dragged straight to court, and maybe imprisoned for life. When the
animal was