e like he is slowly opening his eyes now, but doesn't know how to
fetch up the subject when we are together. He comes a little later in
the morning and starts for home on the dot. I've seen him on the
scaffold, looking off over the fields in the very saddest sort of way.
He is becoming different. He never curses the men now when they make a
bobble or are slow with mortar or brick, and he has lost interest in
plans and figures. They have all noticed it. Some seem to understand,
while others don't. They all respect him too much to tattle among
themselves about his private matters. They love him. They all love John
Trott--rough as he is, they all love him; and as for me--as for me--my
God! my heart aches! I feel like I've made a mistake, but I can't feel
that I am much to blame, for I was going by my best lights. They love
each other, those two do, with all their souls. How could I burst it up
with a nasty revelation like I'd 'a' had to make?"

CHAPTER XXIV

Two days after the arrival of the bride and bridegroom the report of the
marriage reached the residence of Mrs. Trott. Jane Holder had been to
town to make some purchases, and in a dry-goods store heard a
delivery-man mention it. She made further inquiries and established the
fact of the truth of the report. And when she left the street-car at the
end of the line she walked past John's cottage and looked in at the open
door. Tilly was sweeping out the little hall and Jane got a fair view of
her as she hurried by.

"What a sweet little thing she seems!" Jane mused. "I wonder what Liz
will do. It may make her mad. I'm sure she will be mad to find out that
he has been here two days and not been over home. She is expecting some
money from John, too, but how can he give it to her now that he has set
up for himself? Why, he is just a boy! It seems funny to think of him
having a wife and a snug little home like that."

She found Mrs. Trott in the dining-room, where Dora was arranging the
table for the midday meal, and as she sat removing her hat and veil, her
gaudy green sunshade in her lap, she made her revelation.

"What are you saying?" Lizzie Trott cried, incredulously, and with her
carmined lips parted she stood staring at her friend.

Jane repeated what she had said, and then both of them were astonished
by a comment from Dora as she leaned against the table and smiled.

"I'm glad it is out," the child said. "I was dying to tell it. I knew it
was coming o