Page:Mistress Madcap Surrenders (1926).pdf/262

 hath ne'er forgiven me the death o' poor Dulcie!"

"Eh!" Mistress Condit glanced at her absently. "Oh, nonsense, he will get o'er that!" she said comfortably. "Don't go far—do not be late for church, Hitty!"

"As though I would be—my first wedding!" answered Mehitable scornfully. "Besides, please notice that I be the only one ready and dressed, wi' the rest all still adorning themselves!"

She walked out slowly through the shady orchard, where Amos sat beside the trench he had dug. Within the trench, smoking and succulent, the wedding meats were being prepared. But Amos neither answered nor looked up when she stopped to give him her mother's message, and, sighing, Mehitable walked on to the great barn.

Entering the saddle room, from which a ladder led up into the hayloft above, she glanced down dubiously at her best gown. She wanted most intensely to go up into the sweet-smelling hay and there be alone to think over the great event, and wanting to do a thing with Mehitable was almost invariably to do it. Amos, therefore, coming into the barn a second or so later, was not surprised to see a flutter of the best gown disappearing over the top of the ladder into the haymow.

Settling herself upon the fragrant hay, Mehitable sank into luxurious reverie. . . dark eyes. . . cocked hat. . . tall, slender figure