s
old Tradition is most set about it is that, and what was decided to be
the proper thing a million years ago this town still dictates shall be
done, and spends a good deal of its time seeing its directions carried
out. For a year after the funeral they forget about the poor bereaved
and when they do remember her they speak to and of her in the same tones
of voice they used at the obsequies. Then sooner or later some neighbor
is sure to see some man walk home from church with her or hear some old
bachelor's voice on her front porch. Mr. Cain took Mrs. Caruther's
little Jessie up in his buggy and helped her out at her mother's gate
just before last Christmas, and if the poor widow hadn't acted quick the
town would have noticed them to death before he proposed to her. They
were married the day after New Year's and she lost lots of good friends
because she didn't give them more time to talk about it.

I don't intend to run any risk of losing my friends that way and I want
them to have all the good time they can get out of it. I'm going to
serve out mint-juleps of excitement until the dear old place is running
as it did when it was a two-year-old. Why get mad when people are
interested in you? It's a compliment after all and just gives them more
to think about. I remembered the two trunks across the hall and hugged
my knees up under by chin with pleasure at the thought of the town-talk
they contained.

Then just as I had got the first plan well-going and was deciding
whether to wear the mauve meteor or the white chiffon with the rosebud
embroidery as a first julep for my friends, a sweetness came in through
my window that took my breath away and I lay still with my hand over my
heart and listened. It was Billy singing right under my window, and I've
never heard him do it before in all his five years. It was the dearest
old-fashioned tune ever written and Billy sang the words as distinctly
as if he had been a boy chorister doing a difficult recitative. My heart
beat so it shook the lace on my breast like a breeze from heaven as he
took the high note and then let it go on the last few words.

"If you love me, Molly, darling,
Let your answer be a kiss!"

A confused recollection of having heard the words and tune sung by my
mother when I was at the rocking age myself brought the tears to my eyes
as I flew to the window and parted the curtains. If you heard a little
boy-angel singing at your casement wouldn't you expe