window, and with that new, sweet suffocation at her heart she had
found the object of her searching--the satiny crest of Rodney
Parker's sleek hair, the fresh-coloured profile that had been in her
waking and sleeping thoughts since yesterday. He was evidently hard
at work; indeed he was nervous and discouraged, had Martie but known
it; he did not look up.

But Martie did not want him to look up. She wanted only the
stimulation to her thoughts that the sight of him caused, the
enchanting realization that he was there. She had a thrilling vision
of herself entering that bank, a privileged person, "young Mrs.
Rodney." Old Judge Parker coming out of his private office with his
hands full of papers would nod to her with his fatherly smile,
Rodney grin the proud yet embarrassed grin of a man confronted in
office hours by his women-folk.

Suddenly Martie decided that she would begin to save money. She and
Sally had jointly fallen heir to a young Durham cow when Cousin
Sally Buckingham died, and the cow being sold for thirty-five
dollars, exactly seventeen dollars and fifty cents had been
deposited in the bank in each girl's name. This was four years ago;
neither one ever dreamed of touching the precious nest-egg; to them
it represented wealth. Len had no bank account, nor had Mama nor
Lydia. All Martie's dreams of the future began, included, or ended
on the expenditure of this sum. It bought text books, wedding veils,
railway tickets in turn. Now she thought that if she saved another
dollar, and went into the Bank duly to deposit it, Rodney must see
her, might even wait upon her; it would be a perfectly legitimate
way of crossing his line of vision.