"It is a fact, I can assure you, and I have been thankful ever since, not that Dick isn't a fine man, for he is, but, dear me, he would never have suited me, as I came to find out, and he suits Julia to a T. They are as happy as two clams at high tide." "Then that is why you never married." "It probably had something to do with it, for during the two or three years when I was wearing the willow came other chances which I didn't take, and when I had reached the stage of thanking the Lord for my escape my patient suitors had become impatient and had danced off to those who, in their opinions, had better taste. But, Verlinda, bear this truth in mind; I am still thanking the Lord. Come, if you have finished we'll be off. I see Nichols has sent around the man with the surrey; he is waiting outside." The ride to Boxford over level shell roads would have been pleasant enough with a less companionable person than Miss Ri, but she who knew every house along the way had innumerable stories to tell, humorous, pathetic, romantic, and the time seemed very short before they reached the station from which they were to start on the second and more commonplace stage of their journey which ended at Mackenzie. This was a small settlement which appeared to consist of the station, a country store, and a few houses straggling along an unpaved street which stretched out into the country road, leading on and on indefinitely. There were few people in sight; a half dozen darkies lounged around the station, inside which the telegraph operator clicked away at his transmitter industriously, some children played in the street further up, but no one else was to be seen. "Where do you suppose the postoffice is?" asked Miss Ri, looking around. "At the store in all probability," replied Linda. "We'll go over and see." But, contrary to their expectation, they found the postoffice was not there but at the second house up the street. They could read the sign outside, they were told. Its location known, the place was easy enough to find; a small white house, like any other of its type. The door was ajar and the travellers entered to find themselves in a square enclosure, a door to their left, and in front of them a box-like structure with a sort of window cut in it. Before the window hung a calico curtain. From behind this curtain presently appeared the head of a man. "Good morning, ladies," the voice came with pleasant eagerness; "you're the ladies from Sandbridge? Mr. Matthews wrote to me about you. Will you just walk into the front room there, and take seats while I am sorting the mail. I'll be with you as soon as it is distributed." Linda opened the only door in sight, and the two entered a plainly furnished room, which, however, provided two comfortable chairs, and in these they seated themselves to wait the postmaster's leisure.