felt that she had more to be grateful for than most girls, for
Stephen surprised her with first one evidence and then another of
thoughtful generosity. In his heart of hearts he felt that Rose
was not wholly his, that she reserved, withheld something; and it
was the subjugation of this rebellious province that he sought.
He and Rose had agreed to wait a year for their marriage, in
which time Rose's cousin would finish school and be ready to live
with the old people; meanwhile Stephen had learned that his
maiden aunt would be glad to come and keep house for Rufus. The
work at the River Farm was too hard for a girl, so he had
persuaded himself of late, and the house was so far from the
village that Rose was sure to be lonely. He owned a couple of
acres between his place and the Edgewood bridge, and here, one
afternoon only a month after their engagement, he took Rose to
see the foundations of a little house he was building for her.
It was to be only a story-and-a-half cottage of six small rooms,
the two upper chambers to be finished off later on. Stephen had
placed it well back from the road, leaving space in front for
what was to be a most wonderful arrangement of flower-beds, yet
keeping a strip at the back, on the river-brink, for a small
vegetable garden. There had been a house there years before--
so many years that the blackened ruins were entirely overgrown;
but a few elms and an old apple-orchard remained to shade the new
dwelling and give welcome to the coming inmates.

Stephen had fifteen hundred dollars in bank, he could turn his
hand to almost anything, and his love was so deep that Rose's
plumb-line had never sounded bottom; accordingly he was able,
with the help of two steady workers, to have the roof on before
the first of November. The weather was clear and fine, and by