“I don’t know as I’m sorry if it does rain,” she murmured. “It’ll keep ’em in the house, and I want ’em all to be there. I’m sure it’ll please Mr. Derwent.” While she thus reflected, a square-shouldered, sturdy, masculine figure entered the gate and came up the garden-path. Betsy showed no surprise at his appearance. The pleasant light continued in her eyes as she arose. “How do you do, Hiram?” she said, as he came up the steps. “Take the big chair.” “Well!” The sea-blue gaze scrutinized her as the guest’s hard hand held hers until she jerked it away with decision. “Take the big chair,” she repeated. “Ye’d rather give me that than your hand, eh?” returned Hiram, and he seated himself on the edge of the flexible wicker. “Sit back, and take comfort,” said Betsy, returning to her rocker. Captain Salter obeyed, moving cautiously. “Well, travelin’ does improve folks, they say. I can see you’re improved, Betsy.” “You thought there was need of it, did you?” “Well, I should think so! I knew the minute I got your note this afternoon that you was beginnin’ to get more reasonable. To have you do somethin’ real decent like askin’ a feller to come and see you, showed that you was broadenin’ out, Betsy, broadenin’ out. Folks all gone to the inn to dinner, eh?” “Yes. I thought it would be a good chance for me to hear some o’ the town gossip.” “’Tis. Real good. It’s all over Fairport that you and me’s goin’ to be married this fall.” Betsy stopped rocking. “The name o’ the boat kind o’ started it up—” “You might have known it would, Hiram Salter!” said Betsy accusingly. “O’ course I did. What d’ye s’pose I named her for?” “’Twas a mean trick, Hiram!” Captain Salter changed the blade of grass he was chewing to the other side of his mouth. “Why, certainly,” he responded. “Ye didn’t s’pose I wouldn’t descend to mean tricks, did ye? We heard even when we was goin’ to school that all’s fair in love and war.” She looked at him for a moment with a baffled gaze, then she spoke. “I don’t believe a word of it,” she said defiantly. “Everybody that knows me knows I ain’t ever goin’ to marry anybody. I wouldn’t anyway now—after you namin’ the boat. Do you s’pose I’d marry a man that shows right out plain that he’s a tyrant?” Captain Salter emitted a low rumbling laugh, and sat quiet in his all-embracing chair. “Tell me what’s doin’ in town,” asked Betsy in a different tone. “How’s Mrs. Pogram gettin’ along without Rosalie?” “Oh, she’s havin’ a fierce time. She no sooner gets settled with somebody to help her, than Loomis upsets everything with some of his fool doin’s.” “I’m goin’ to surprise you,” said Betsy, slowly, “more’n you ever was surprised in your life, Hiram.” “How so? Goin’ to marry me this evenin’?” “I found Rosalie Vincent out in Yellowstone Park.” “Pshaw! Ye don’t say so! By the way, Betsy, I was glad o’ those sightly pictures you sent me. Course I s’pose they’re all lies—just advertisin’—”