“I’d rather it should be a year,” was Dora’s quiet reply, to which the Squire assented, and then, though he so much wished her to stay, he opened the door for her to pass out, as he saw that she desired it. Half an hour later and Bell Verner, who was just falling to sleep, was startled by a knock, and Dora asked permission to enter. “What is it? Who’s come?” Jessie asked in a dreamy tone, lifting her curly head from the pillow, just as Bell unlocked the door, and Dora stepped into the room. She was very calm now and decided. The matter was fixed now beyond recall, and she felt a great deal better. Sitting down upon the foot of the bed, she said to Bell and Jessie: “I could not let you go home without telling you something which may perhaps surprise you.” “Oh, I know. I can guess. You are going to marry Mr. Russell,” Jessie cried, and Dora answered: “Yes. It was Margaret’s wish, expressed to both of us, but that is nothing. I begin to feel old; oh, _so_ old,” and Dora shuddered as she said it. “John is good and will make me a kind husband. It is true that once, when a very young girl like Jessie, I had in my mind another idea for a husband. All girls do in their teens, I guess, but when we get to be twenty-six we begin to lose the fancy man and look for something solid.” This she said to Bell, as if expecting her concurrence rather than that of madcap Jessie. But the contrary was the fact, for Jessie approved the match far more than her sister. Squire Russell was splendid, she said, and would let a body do just as she had a mind, which was a great deal nicer than a dictatorial, overbearing fellow of twenty-eight. Yes, she’d give her consent, and she began to whistle, “Come haste to the wedding,” as she nestled back among the pillows, wondering how she should feel to be engaged to Squire Russell. Bell on the contrary saw things in their true light, and she merely replied: “I am somewhat surprised, I will acknowledge, but if you love him that is all that is necessary.” She was looking directly at Dora, but in the dim moonlight the white, haggard face was not plainly discerned, and Bell continued: “I did think you liked Dr. West, and was positive he liked you.” “Oh, fie,” and Jessie sprang up again, “Dora hates him, while he,—well, I guess he likes all the girls,—that is, likes to talk with and flatter them; any way, he has said a great many complimentary things to me, and I knew he meant nothing. They say his heart is buried in that grave in Morrisville. I picked him out for Dora once, you know, and that’s all the good it did. Marry the Squire, and let me be bridesmaid.” “Will you?” Dora asked. “Will you and Bell both officiate?” Jessie assented eagerly, but Bell hesitated. She could not make it seem real that Dora Freeman was to become the wife of Squire Russell. Something would prevent it. At last, however, as Dora urged a reply, she said: “Perhaps I will, if when the time arrives you still wish for two.”