Days passed. Elizabeth could not induce herself to call on her future mother-in-law. The surety that she was cheapened by reports of her home affairs stung her consciousness and made it impossible to make the call which she knew she would certainly give offence by omitting. This, too, she talked over with Luther, and he advised her to go at once. Each day she would promise, and each day she would make excuses to herself and him, till at last the man's sober sense told him it must not be put off longer. One evening, after John had been gone two weeks, and Elizabeth explained the fact of not having gone to see Mrs. Hunter because of the extreme heat, Luther suggested that she go over to the "shanty" with him. "I forgot my coat, and it looks as if it'd rain 'fore mornin'," he remarked. "I kept th' harness on th' horses, so's t' drive over." As Elizabeth expected, the visit to Mrs. Hunter was the first subject broached after they started. "You're goin' t' live in th' house with Mrs. Hunter, Lizzie"--Luther always used the old-fashioned name--"an' you must be friends with 'er," he cautioned. "I know it, Luther. I'll go to-morrow, sure, no matter what happens," the girl promised, her words coming so slowly that there was no mistaking her reluctance. "I just can't bear to, but I will." Luther considered at some length. "She'll be lonesome, not knowin' anybody here," he said with almost equal reluctance. "I--I want t' see you start in right. You've got t' live in th' house with 'er." The last clause of his argument was not exactly in line with the impression he wished to produce; in fact, it was only a weak repetition of what he had begun the argument with, but somehow, like Elizabeth, that was the main fact in the case which absorbed his attention. He was dissatisfied with it, but could think of no way to state it better; so to turn the subject to something foreign to the hated topic, he remarked on a hayfield they were passing. "Them windrows ought t' 'a' been shocked up," he said, casting his eye up at the northwest to measure the clouds. "Jimminy!" he exclaimed, slapping the team with the lines. "I wonder if I've brought you out here t' get you wet?" He glanced apprehensively at Elizabeth's thin print dress as the startled team jerked the old lumber wagon over the rough road, and half wished he had not brought her with him, for the signs were ominous. The breeze, which had been fitful when they had started, had died away altogether. Not a breath of air was stirring; even the birds and crickets were silent. The storm was gathering rapidly. They rounded the corner, near his building place, on a full trot, and plunged into the grove of cottonwoods which surrounded the "shanty," with a consciousness that if they were to avoid a wetting, haste was necessary.