“It is rather lucky that there are two whom Cy favors,” said Alison. “The last time Bud was over there he said Lou told him that her father was fair distracted between her two persistent suitors, that just as he’d think he had it fixed up with Jabe, Pike would come along and there would be a stormy scene. I really think Cy would rather not have Pike for a son-in-law, but is afraid not to show him favor. So what seemed a bad state of affairs is turning out rather luckily for Lou, since this sort of seesawing puts off the evil day. Bud says there’s more behind it all and that Lou has her reasons for not coming out flat foot and telling her father that she will not marry either of them. I shouldn’t wonder if there would be lively times when Ira comes.” But in Lou’s direction matters had been hastening to a crisis more rapidly than any one supposed, and it looked as if, were Ira to delay his coming, his chances for obtaining the girl of his choice would be rather slim. Cyrus chafed more and more under the enforced conditions which his daughter’s presence made necessary. He was growing very tired of this respectability, and, moreover, his former relations with Pike Smith, which had been only too questionable, had really put him in Pike’s power. He must therefore, either renew these relations, silence Pike by giving him his daughter, or cut entirely loose from Pike, favor Jabez Manypenny and hide his own misdeeds behind that powerful influence. Besides there was the opinion of the neighbors to be considered. The “boys” had made it very plain to Cyrus that it was a free country for women as well as for men and any decided attempt to marry off Louisa against her will would be speedily resented and would not be allowed. Cyrus was therefore in a dilemma. How was he to please everybody and still go scot free? The question actually kept him awake nights, and one morning when he sat with his breakfast before him untouched, Louisa took alarm. “You’re fretting, dad,” she said. “I hope it ain’t about me,” she added. Cyrus lifted his cup and took a long draught of coffee before he answered. “What’s a man to do,” he said, “when half the boys in the neighborhood plague him to death fer his darter?” Louisa gave her head a jerk. “Oh, is that all? I thought it was something particular.” “Don’t you call that partickerlar?” “No, I don’t. Half the men don’t mean any particular man.” “To come down to facts, then, it is partickerlar. I saw Jabez Manypenny last night.” “Oh, Jabez Manypenny,” Louisa broke in pettishly, “he’s old enough to be my father. I don’t want an old bag of bones like him.” “He’s a much respected man, Louisy, and I take it as a great compliment fer him to ast me fer you,” said Cyrus gravely. “But if you must hev a young man, there’s Pike Smith.” “Gracious! He’d want to boss us both, he’s that masterful.” “There’s some others,” said Cyrus, doubtfully; “Tim Forbes, Matt Cochran. Yer a favorite, Lou, in spite of yer red head.”