"She's at her old tricks," said her husband; "laughing at Richard and me." I found her merriment anything but reassuring, and I muttered under my breath: "Perdition on Ebenezer and his speedy comfort! I hope she don't class me with him." Very soon Mrs. Yocomb appeared again, and said: "Father, thee must take them all out to drive. I can't do anything straight while I hear you all talking and laughing, for my thoughts are with you. I've put salt into one pie already. A Thanksgiving dinner requires one's whole mind." "Bustle, bustle, all get ready. Mother's mistress of this house on Thanksgiving Day, if at no other time. We're commanded to obey the 'powers that be,' and if the woman who can get up such a dinner as mother can isn't a 'power,' I'd like to know where we'll find one. I'm very meek and respectful on Thanksgiving morning. Get on thy wraps, Emily. No mutiny before dinner." She seemed very ready to go, for I think she dreaded being left alone with me. I, too, was glad to gain time, for I was strangely unnerved and apprehensive. She avoided meeting my eyes, and was inscrutable. In a few moments we were in the family rockaway, bowling over the country at a grand pace. "Mother's shrewd," said Mr. Yocomb; "she knew that a ride like this in the frosty air would give us an appetite for any kind of a dinner, but it will make hers taste like the Feast of Tabernacles. Let 'em go, Reuben, let 'em go!" "Do you call this a Quaker pace?" asked Miss Warren, who sat with Zillah on the back seat. "Yes, I'm acting just as I feel moved. Thee's much too slow for a Friend, Emily. Now I'll wager thee a plum that Richard likes it. Doesn't thee, Richard?" "Suppose a wheel should come off," I suggested. "I'm awfully nervous to-day. I was sure the train would break down or run off the track last night; then I had horrible dreams at the hotel." "Why, Mr. Morton!" Miss Warren exclaimed, "what did you eat for supper?" "Bless me! I don't know. Come to think of it, I didn't have any." "Did thee have any breakfast?" asked Mr. Yocomb, who seemed greatly amused. "I believe so. I went through the motions." "Drive slow, Reuben; Richard's afraid he'll have his neck broken before dinner;" and they all had a great laugh at my expense. "I've won the plum this time," cried Miss Warren. "Thee has indeed, and thee deserves it sure enough." I looked around at her, but could not catch her eyes. My efforts to emulate Mr. Yocomb's spirit were superhuman, but my success was indifferent. I was too anxious, too doubtful concerning the girl who was so gentle and yet so strong. She had far more quietude and self-mastery than I, and with good reason, for she was mistress of the situation. Still, I gathered hope every hour, for I felt that her face would not be so happy, so full of brightness, if she proposed to send me away disappointed, or even put me off on further probation. Nevertheless, my Thanksgiving Day would not truly begin until my hope was confirmed.