Applause greeted this statement.

"Time was," went on Mrs. Black, "and not so long ago, neither, when I was afraid to spend a cent, for fear of a rainy day that's been long coming. 'Tain't got here yet; but I can tell you ladies, I got a lesson from _her_ in generosity I don't mean to forget. 'Spend and be spent' is my motto from now on; so I didn't grudge the new-laid eggs I put in that cake, nor yet the sugar, spice nor raisins. There's three cakes in one--in token of the trinity (I do hope th' won't n.o.body think it's wicked t' mention r'ligion in connection with a cake); the bottom cake was baked in a milk-pan, an' it's a bride's cake, being made with the whites of fourteen perfec'ly fresh eggs; the next layer is fruit and spice, as rich as wedding cake ought to be; the top cake is best of all; and can be lifted right off and given to Rever'nd an' Mrs. Wesley Elliot.... I guess they'll like to keep the wedding couple for a souvenir."

A vigorous clapping of hands burst forth. Mrs. Solomon Black waited modestly till this gratifying demonstration had subsided, then she went on:

"I guess most of you ladies'll r'member how one short year ago Miss Lyddy Orr Bolton came a'walkin' int' our midst, lookin' sweet an'

modest, like she was; and how down-in-th'-mouth we was all a-feelin', 'count o' havin' no money t' buy th' things we'd worked s' hard t'

make. Some of us hadn't no more grit an' gumption 'n Ananias an'

S'phira, t' say nothin' o' Jonah an' others I c'd name. In she came, an' ev'rythin' was changed from that minute! ...Now, I want we sh'd cut up that cake--after everybody's had a chance t' see it good--all but th' top layer, same's I said--an' all of us have a piece, out o'

compl'ment t' our paster an' his wife, an' in memory o' her, who's gone from us."

"But Lyddy Orr ain't dead, Mis' Black," protested Mrs. Daggett warmly.

"She might 's well be, 's fur 's our seein' her 's concerned,"

replied Mrs. Black. "She's gone t' Boston t' stay f'r good, b'cause she couldn't stan' it no-how here in Brookville, after her pa was found dead. The' was plenty o' hard talk, b'fore an' after; an' when it come t' breakin' her windows with stones an' hittin' her in th'

head, so she was 'bleeged t' have three st.i.tches took, all I c'n say is I don't wonder she went t' Boston.... Anyway, that's my wish an'

d'sire 'bout that cake."

The arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Wesley Elliot offered a welcome interruption to a scene which was becoming uncomfortably tense.

Whatever p.r.i.c.kings of conscience there might have been under the gay muslin and silks of her little audience, each woman privately resented the superior att.i.tude a.s.sumed by Mrs. Solomon Black.

"Easy f'r _her_ t' talk," murmured Mrs. Fulsom, from between puckered lips; "_she_ didn't lose no money off Andrew Bolton."

"An' she didn't get none, neither, when it come t' dividin' up," Mrs.

Mixter reminded her.

"That's so," a.s.sented Mrs. Fulsom, as she followed in pretty Mrs.

Mixter's wake to greet the newly-married pair.

"My! ain't you proud o' her," whispered Abby Daggett to Maria Dodge.

"She's a perfec' pictur' o' joy, if ever I laid my eyes on one!"

f.a.n.n.y stood beside her tall husband, her pretty face irradiating happiness. She felt a sincere pity welling up in her heart for Ellen Dix and Joyce Fulsom and the other girls. Compared with her own transcendent experiences, their lives seemed cold and bleak to f.a.n.n.y.

And all the while she was talking to the women who crowded about her.

"Yes; we are getting nicely settled, thank you, Mrs. Fulsom--all but the attic. Oh, how'd you do, Judge Fulsom?"

The big man wiped the perspiration from his bald forehead.

"Just been fetchin' in th' ice cream freezers," he said, with his booming chuckle. "I guess I'm 's well 's c'n be expected, under th'

circ.u.mstances, ma'am.... An' that r'minds me, parson, a little matter was s'ggested t' me. In fact, I'd thought of it, some time ago. No more 'n right, in view o' th' facts. If you don't mind, I'll outline th' idee t' you, parson, an' see if you approve."

f.a.n.n.y, striving to focus attention on the pointed remarks Miss Lois Daggett was making, caught occasional s.n.a.t.c.hes of their conversation.

f.a.n.n.y had never liked Lois Daggett; but in her new role of minister's wife, it was her foreordained duty to love everybody and to condole and sympathize with the parish at large. One could easily sympathize with Lois Daggett, she was thinking; what would it be like to be obliged daily to face the reflection of that mottled complexion, that long, pointed nose, with its rasped tip, that drab lifeless hair with its sharp hairpin crimp, and those small greenish eyes with no perceptible fringe of lashes? f.a.n.n.y looked down from her lovely height into Miss Daggett's upturned face and pitied her from the bottom of her heart.

"I hear your brother Jim has gone t' Boston," Miss Daggett was saying with a simper.

From the rear f.a.n.n.y heard Judge Fulsom's rumbling monotone, earnestly addressed to her husband:

"Not that Boston ain't a nice town t' live in; but we'll have t'

enter a demurrer against her staying there f'r good. Y' see--"

"Yes," said f.a.n.n.y, smiling at Miss Daggett. "He went several days ago."

"H'm-m," murmured Miss Daggett. "_She's_ livin' there, ain't she?"

"You mean Miss Orr?"

"I mean Miss Lyddy Bolton. I guess Bolton's a good 'nough name for _her_."

From the Judge, in a somewhat louder tone:

"That's th' way it looks t' me, dominie; an' if all th' leadin'

citizens of Brookville'll put their name to it--an' I'm of th'

opinion they will, when I make my charge t' th' jury--"

"Certainly," murmured f.a.n.n.y absently, as she gazed at her husband and the judge.

She couldn't help wondering why her Wesley was speaking so earnestly to the Judge, yet in such a provokingly low tone of voice.

"I had become so accustomed to thinking of her as Lydia Orr," she finished hastily.

"Well, I don't b'lieve in givin' out a name 'at ain't yourn," said Lois Daggett, sharply. "She'd ought t' 'a' told right out who she was, an' what she come t' Brookville _for_."

Judge Fulsom and the minister had moved still further away. f.a.n.n.y, with some alarm, felt herself alone.

"I don't think Miss Orr meant to be deceitful," she said nervously.

"Well, o' course, if she's a-goin' t' be in th' family, it's natural you sh'd think so," said Lois Daggett, sniffing loudly.

f.a.n.n.y did not answer.

"I sh'd _hope_ she an' Jim was engaged," proclaimed Miss Daggett. "If they ain't, they'd ought t' be."

"Why should you say that, Miss Lois?" asked f.a.n.n.y hurriedly. "They are very good friends."

Miss Daggett bent forward, lowering her voice.

"The's one thing I'd like t' know f'r certain," she said: "Did Jim Dodge find that body?"

f.a.n.n.y stared at her inquisitor resentfully.

"There were a good many persons searching," she said coldly.

Miss Daggett wagged her head in an irritated fashion.

"Of course I know _that_," she snapped. "What I want t' know is whether Jim Dodge--"