“Good gracious, stand up, Peggy!” she exclaimed. “Your gown is all wrinkled. They’re coming at last. Heavens, your cheeks are all tear-streaked! No, don’t wipe them! You little goose, why did you shed all those tears?” “Well, what would you have done?” laughed Peggy, allowing Laura to smooth her gown. “I wouldn’t cry, that’s a sure thing.” She darted back to the window, flinging the curtain aside. “They’ve stopped at the gate,” she said. “I think they are talking to your father. Now he’s coming with them.” Aunt Emma came running up the stairs, calling to Peggy. “They’re here,” she called. “Goodness knows, it’s time.” “I’m ready, Aunt Emma,” called Peggy. Laura still stood at the window, watching the buggy come up to the veranda. But only Honey Bee got out of the buggy. He was talking to Jim Wheeler and forgot to tie the horse. Then they came into the house. A babel of questions assailed Honey, but Jim Wheeler’s heavy voice silenced them. Came several moments of silence. Laura had stepped back beside Peggy, who was listening. “There ain’t goin’ to be no weddin’,” said Jim Wheeler slowly. “Joe Rich is dead drunk.” A silence followed Jim’s announcement. Peggy looked at Laura, and the blood slowly drained from her cheeks. She grasped for the foot of the bed to steady herself. Then came Honey’s voice: “Aw, cuss it, don’t look at me thataway!” he wailed. “This wasn’t anythin’ I could help. I was to meet him at seven-thirty, and he didn’t show up; so I waited until after eight. Then I found him in the Arapaho saloon--asleep.” Aunt Emma was coming up the stairs, bringing the news to Peggy. She didn’t realise that Peggy had heard all of it. They met at the top of the stairs, and Peggy went past her, clinging to the railing. Aunt Emma touched her on the arm, but Peggy did not look up. At the top of the stairs stood Laura, her eyes wide, the tears running down her cheeks. Peggy went into the living-room and stopped just inside the doorway. The minister caught sight of her and crossed the room, but she brushed him aside. “Honey,” she said breathlessly, “is that all true?” Honey Bee shifted his weight to one foot, nodding jerkily. “My God, I wouldn’t lie to yuh, Peggy!” he said. “It shore is hell to have to tell the truth in a case like this. All the way from town I’ve tried to frame up a lie, but it wasn’t no use, Peggy. Mebbe it was my feet. A feller with an eight foot can’t think of no lies in a six shoe.” Peggy’s eyes swept the assemblage of old friends, and their faces seemed blurred. No one spoke. Her father stood beside her, grim-faced, stunned. “I’m sorry,” said Peggy simply, and went back toward the stairs. Slowly the crowd gathered up their belongings and went away. Even Uncle Hozie was shocked to sobriety. Finally there was no one left in the big living-room except Honey Bee. He took off his shoes and coat and was going toward the front door when Laura Hatton came down the stairs. She had been crying.