“Lorraine, I suppose!” Dan laughed in spite of himself. “I want to walk over to the _Gazette_ office and put our engagement notice in. I wouldn’t want that to go by another week, if I had to get out an extry. I believe I’d make them get out an extry, too!” “Did the _Gazette_ ever get out an extry for anything?” she asked. “The nearest they ever came to it was when Ali Baba was learning to ride a wheel and he ran into a barrel of tar pitch within half an hour of four o’clock! Come on, sweetheart, we can begin planning furniture.” Thurley lingered near an old tombstone with the engraving: Naked as from the earth we came, And crept to life at first, We to the earth return again, And mingle with our dust. “I love a graveyard,” she said pensively. “I like to sing in one.” “Sing for me now.” Dan was anxious to comply with her slightest wish. “This is a queer one to sing, up here,” she answered, beginning, The ship goes sailing down the bay, Good-by, my lover good-by— Dan was not thinking of the song; he was thinking of Thurley as his bespoken wife and of his and Thurley’s life together. Singing was to be a minor thing which should take place while babies were rocked to sleep or perhaps on Easter Sunday for the special anthem. Dan had no idea of allowing her to remain a paid soloist—but it would do to tell her so later! “Bravo,” he said as she finished. “Shall we go along?” tucking her arm under his with a masterful air. They trudged down the pathway to the road. Some children were picking the last berries from the dusty bushes; when they caught sight of Thurley, they ran towards her, saying, “Miss Clergy heard you sing. Her carriage just went on. She had Ali Baba stop so’s she could hear. She stuck her head out the window and asked him your name and Dan’s name and he told her, and then she stuck her head in and he drove on.” “There’s an old woman who ought to be ashamed to act like she has for years and years,” Dan began. But Thurley did not answer. Presently she said, “So—I had an audience even in a graveyard. Dan, do you know Miss Clergy never asks questions about any one? She must have liked my voice!” “She’ll never get the chance to hear it again! I’ll race you to that first oak—” Thurley shook her head. “Wait, Dan, I feel queer inside ... as if something might come of it, I don’t know just what.” “Are you going to let a crazy old woman’s listening to you sing stop our getting to the newspaper office in time to announce our engagement?” “Dan, do you realize that we are both ‘Corners’ people and they never do get along? A house or a store on the corner always attracts the most attention and gets the most notice paid to it and that is why your father’s people founded these Corners and you have to be a Corners person—people just naturally pay you attention or you know why ... and I’m a Corners person, too.”