"Ah, sure, Miss, you look fine," she declared. "You're that sweet one
look at you would sugar a cup of tea. Ah, he'll be that proud of you and
he ought to be, too. But he's a fine young man, and--"

"Who? What are you talking about, Maggie?" interrupted Mary. "Who will
be proud of me and who is a fine young fellow?"

"Who? Why, Mr. Smith, of course; who else? He's down in the parlor
waitin' for you now. I'll tell him you'll be down."

Before Mary could stop her she had left the room and was on her way
downstairs. Mary followed a moment later. She had not expected a visit
from Crawford, who had called already that week. She wondered why he had
come.

She found him in the parlor. Mrs. Wyeth was out shopping with Miss
Pease, and he and she were alone. He rose to meet her as she entered.

"Why, Crawford," she said, "what is the matter? Has anything happened?
Why do you look so serious?"

He smiled ruefully. "I guess because I am rather serious," he answered.
"I've had some news and I came to tell you about it." Then, noticing her
gown, he added: "But you're going out, aren't you?"

"I am going out by and by. I am going to dine and spend the evening with
Barbara Howe. But I am not going yet. Won't you sit down?"

"I will if you're sure you can spare the time. I hope you can,
because--well, because I do want to talk to you. I've had bad news from