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66 As Molly recognized him, the song died from her lips, the look of placid content from her eyes; and, passing to the door, she slipped the bolt across it before she approached the window, and, opening it a little way, coldly said,—

"Good-morning, Reuben: have you a message?"

"Only that Mercy is coming over this afternoon. Shall I tie my horse, and come in for a little?"

"You know for yourself that my father said you were not to come in unless Mercy was with me: she does not appear to me to be here now."

"You are over-nice, Mistress Molly. Well, I only came to say to you, that after dinner I am going to ride over to the Corners; and, if you like, you may go too."

"But I don't like, thank you, Master Reuben, so that errand is soon done," said Molly scornfully; and Reuben's scowl did not improve his beauty, as he retorted,—

"You might at least be civil, mistress: what's amiss now, I wonder?"

"The weather is very much amiss for standing at open windows; so, if you'll excuse me, I'll e'en close this one, and go on with my work." And with a little laugh, as icy as the wind, she closed the casement, and turned the button securing it, then went back to her wheel without vouchsafing another look at the angry suitor, who went away muttering savagely,—

"Your mother will make you mend your manners, my lady, when she comes home: and, once we're married, I'll see what a little wholesome correction will do; I won't forget, never fear."