they had satisfied the hunger for understanding the miracle
that had befallen them he told her of all that had happened in the
months that she had been away. How Jim Tumley slipped beyond the love
and help of them all. How Mary Hoskins grew weaker and weaker. How
the Civic League struggled and the three good little men dreamed and
planned. How Fanny Foster came to pay the great price for Green
Valley's salvation. How in death gentle Mary Hoskins paid too. He
explained why Seth Curtis was a gentler man and why John Foster hurried
home each day to laugh and talk with his crippled wife. He told her of
that awful day that had crushed George Hoskins so that he went about a
broken, shrunken man, praying and searching for peace through service.
It was George who bought the beautiful new piano for the Community
House, who was paying for little Jim's cure.

And then because the girl he loved was sobbing over the sins and
sorrows of the little town that lay in the sunshine below them, he told
her about the baby boy that Hen Tomlins had gotten for Christmas and
how happy the little man was making toys for the toddler who followed
him about from morning till night. And because her eyes were still wet
with tears he laughed teasingly and said:

"And I never knew that I loved you until I saw David Allan kiss his
sweetheart."

Of course, at that she sat up very straight and wanted to know all
about it.

"I suppose you expect me to wait a whole proper year for my wedding
day," he sighed after a little.

"I think we ought to. And I couldn't possibly be ready before then."

"Do you mean to tell me that it takes a whole year to make a wedding
dress?"

And then the cruelty that lies in every woman made her shake her head
and say, "No--that isn't why nice folks wait a whole year. They wait
to give each other plenty of time to change their minds."

"Nan!"

And she saw then by his hurt white face that, man grown though he was,
with a genius for handling other men, he would always be a child in
some things. He never would or could understand trifling in any form,
having all a child's honesty and directness. And she knew that she,
more than any one else, would always have the power to hurt him.

"Nan," he asked slowly, "did you go to Scranton because you thought I
might ask before you were ready?"

She laughed tenderly.

"Oh--Dear Heart--no. I went to Scranton because I was afraid I might
propose before you were read