or felt was no concern
of hers, and she was silly to burden her mind with speculations that
really interested her so little.

By this time Tony, who had lapsed into a silence as unbroken as her own,
drew up at the smooth stone flagging before Elias Barnes's store and,
leaping out over the wheel, helped his companion to dismount from the
wagon and unload the farm produce they had brought with them for sale.

"I'll get home somehow, Tony," the girl said to him, as he prepared to
drive off. "You needn't come for me."

"All right, Miss Lucy, only I do hope you won't have to foot it back in
this heat."

"I shan't mind."

"It's going to be a terrible day," insisted the lad. "Them buzzin'
locusts is enough to prove that. They're good as a thermometer."

Lucy laughed.

"Don't worry about me," she remarked kindly. "Just as soon as I finish my
errands I shall start home."

"You'd be wise to."

As the mare scuffed off down the road, amid a cloud of dust, Lucy entered
the store.

A stuffy odor of coffee, molasses, and calico greeted her; so, too, did
Elias Barnes, who came forward from behind the counter, extending his damp
and sticky palm and showing every tooth that an expansive smile
permitted.

"So it's you, Miss Lucy," he observed with pleasure. "I was expecting to
see your aunt. She was here the other day."

"Yes, she drove to town last Friday."

"Came on an interestin' errand, too," chirped Elias. "Leastwise, I 'magine
'twas interestin' to you." He grinned slyly.

"Why?"

"Why?" repeated the man, taken aback. "Because--well, ain't such things
always interestin'?"

"What things?"

Elias stared, uncertain as to how to proceed.

Was it possible the girl was ignorant of her aunt's mission?

"Mebbe you didn't know Miss Webster's errand in town," he began eagerly.

"I know she went to see Mr. Benton and get her will made, if that is what
you mean."

"An' don't you call that interestin'?" demanded the discomfited Elias.

"Not particularly."

The storekeeper gasped.

"Likely the matter was all cut an' dried an' nothin' new to you,"
persisted he, with a wan, disappointed smile. "There warn't much choice
left your aunt, fur as relatives went, was there? Still, I reckon she
couldn't 'a' found a better one to pass her property on to than you,"
concluded the man with a leer.

"What makes you so sure she has passed it on to me?" inquired Lucy,
annoyed.

"Well, ain't she?"

"I don't know."

"You don