the May heaven. But Allen Golyer would have been a dull boy not to have
taken heart and hope from it. He became, as of old, a frequent and welcome
visitor at Crystal Glen. Before long the game of chequers with Susie
became so enthralling a passion that it was only adjourned from one
evening to another. Allen's white shirts grew fringy at the edges with
fatigue-duty, and his large hands were furry at the fingers with much
soap. Susie's affectionate heart, which had been swayed a moment from its
orbit by the irresistible attraction of Bertie Leon's diamond breastpin
and city swagger, swung back to its ancient course under the mild
influence of time and the weather and opportunity. So that Dame Barringer
was not in the least surprised, on entering her little parlor one soft
afternoon in that very May, to see the two young people economically
occupying one chair, and Susie shouting the useless appeal, "Mother, make
him behave!"

"I never interfere in young folks' matters, especially when they're going
all right," said the motherly old soul, kissing "her son Allen" and
trotting away to dry her happy tears.

I am almost ashamed to say how soon they were married--so soon that when
Miss Susan went with her mother to Keokuk to buy a wedding-garment, she
half expected to find, in every shop she entered, the elegant figure of
Mr. Leon leaning over the counter. But the dress was bought and made, and
worn at wedding and _in-fair_ and in a round of family visits among the
Barringer and Golyer kin, and carefully laid away in lavender when the
pair came back from their modest holiday and settled down to real life on
Allen's prosperous farm; and no word of Bertie Leon ever came to Mrs.
Golyer to trouble her joy. In her calm and busy life the very name faded
from her tranquil mind. These wholesome country hearts do not bleed long.
In that wide-awake country eyes are too useful to be wasted in weeping. My