"Who was you thinkin' o'--" Mrs. Lathrop asked, resuming her former
occupation.

"The minister," replied Miss Clegg. "I did n't stop to consider very
much, but it struck me 's polite to begin with him. I c'd marry him
without waitin' for father, too, 'cause a minister could n't in reason
find fault over another man's bein' always to home. O' course he would
n't be still like father is, but I ain't never been one to look
gift-horses in the mouth, 'n' I d'n' know 's I 'd ought to expect
another man _jus'_ like father in one life. Mother often said father's
advantages was great, for you always knew where he was, 'n' 'f you
drew down the shade you c'd tell him it was rainin' 'n' he could n't
never contradick."

Mrs. Lathrop nodded acquiescently but made no comment.

Miss Clegg withdrew somewhat from her confidentially inclined
attitude.

"I won't be out in the mornin'," she said. "I sh'll want to dust
father 'n' turn him out o' the window afore Mrs. Brown's son comes.
After he's gone I'll wave my dish-towel, 'n' then you come out 'n' I
'll tell you what he says."

They separated for the night, and Susan went to sleep with her own
version of love's young dream.

Mrs. Brown's son arrived quite promptly the next morning. He drove up
in Mr. Brown's buggy, and Amelia Fitch held the horse while he went
inside to inspect Mr. Clegg. The visit did not consume more than ten