Tilly evidently understood his mood, for she gave a little pat to a
wrinkle the pin had made in his lapel and smiled.

"I thought I heard wheels just now," she remarked. "They seemed to stop
here."

"It was that fellow Eperson with his sister," John blurted out. "They
came by to take you to the party. He acted like he owned you."

"Oh, it was Joel and Martha Jane!" Tilly smiled. "Oh no, he doesn't
think he owns me, by any means. Martha Jane put him up to it. She and I
are great friends and she was afraid I wouldn't get an escort."

John shrugged dubiously and answered: "You may look at it that way if
you want to, but I see through him. I know his brand."

To Cavanaugh's wonderment, Tilly seemed pleased rather than offended,
for she indulged in a little satisfied laugh.

"I suppose you told him we would be there?" she said, lightly, and it
was the old man who answered, seeing that John had nothing to say.

"Yes, he knows that now, Miss Tilly, though he looked sorter set back.
In my day and time about the last thing I'd want to do would be to take
a sister of mine to a shindig. Going and coming was always the biggest
part of the game, and you may bet there was times when I was in for
busting a party up as soon as supper was over so as to be on the road
again."

Tilly laughed merrily. "I'll make you a buttonhole bouquet if you will
wear it," she proposed.

"Well, not to-night--I thank you all the same," Cavanaugh returned, "but
you may some other time when I've got my best clothes on. I don't want
to part with you two, but don't you think you ought to be on the way?"

"Yes, it is time," Tilly said, and John rose to his feet and stiffly
held his arm out to her.

"Please tell mother that we are gone," she said, as she took John's arm
and the two turned away.

"What a purty sight!" the old man mused, standing and gazing after them
as they walked away in the moonlight. He followed as far as the gate and
leaned on it and watched them till they were out of sight.

Presently Mrs. Whaley came out and joined him. He delivered Tilly's
message and they sat down and chatted for half an hour; then she went
back into the kitchen.

She was making dough for bread to be baked the next day when her husband
came and stood beside her. He wore no coat and his coarse suspenders
hung loose over his hips; the collar of his shirt was open, showing his
hairy chest.

"I saw you out there talking to Cavanaugh," he began. "Did you s