In her secret soul she was glad to get past the barn without John seeing her. She would not have permitted him to stop her, or delay her visit, but a discussion with her husband was apt to hold surprises and she to become confused and angry, and worsted in the _manner_ of her insistence. To get away without having to explain put her in good spirits. The sun shone brightly and the air, though snappy and cold, was brisk and fresh. It was the first free walk of a mile Elizabeth had ever taken since her marriage. Elizabeth was herself again. She skirted around the long drifts as she crossed the field humming a snatch of tune with all her blood atingle with the delight of being alone in the vast silent fields. The mere passing of time since Aunt Susan's death had gradually worked a change in her condition, which Luther's presence and the stimulating quality of his words, John's absence, the intoxication of the wild and unfettered storm, the visit to Nathan Hornby's, and the invigorating personality of Hugh Noland had combined to rejuvenate in the crushed and beaten girl. Life held meanings to which she had long been blind. Elizabeth set about the reorganizing of her life with no bitterness toward John, only glad to have found herself, with duty to herself as well as others still possible. Sadie Hansen met Elizabeth at the door with such evident uneasiness that Elizabeth was moved to ask: "Luther's all right, Sadie?" "Yes-s-s!" Sadie replied slowly, and with such reluctance that Elizabeth was puzzled. Sadie took her to the bedroom and shut the door behind her as tight as if she hoped to shut out some evil spirit in the action. Her manner filled Elizabeth with curiosity, but she crossed to Luther and held out her hand. "Before you 'uns begin," Sadie said with the air of burning her bridges behind her, and before any one had had a chance to speak, "I want t' tell you something. I could 'a' told it in th' kitchen," she stammered, "but I made up my mind last night that I'd have it out with both of you. I've done you th' meanest trick, Lizzie. Luther said you was goin' t' Hornby's yesterday. Did you go?" Elizabeth, standing at the head of Luther's bed, nodded in her surprise, feeling that her visit with Nathan was not a subject to which she could lend words. "Now look here, Lizzie, if what I said t' th' Hornbys has made any difference, I'll go t' him an' take it back right before your face." Elizabeth's eyes opened in astonishment. "Uncle Nate did not mention it to me," Elizabeth replied. "Well, I've made up my mind I want t' tell it, an' have it off my mind." Sadie considered a moment and then plunged into her tale hurriedly, for fear that her courage would cease to support her.