him, but I felt 's it was then or never, 'n' I tried my best to save him. It ain't in nature for them 's goes unhooked to ever realize what their unhookedness is to them 's hooks, an' so it 'd be hopeless to try to let you see why my sympathies was so with the deacon; but, to make a long tale short, he jus' hung on like grim death, 'n' in the end I had to give up. He said I was your friend, an' he wanted 's I sh'd explain everythin' to you; an' to-morrow, when he gets back from Meadville, he 'll come up an' get his answer. He did n't ask 'f I thought you 'd have him, 'cause o' course he knowed you 'd have him 's well 's I did. He said 's he sh'd mention it about town to keep any women from takin' the same train with him. He says he has n't been anywhere by himself for ever so long. He says jus' as soon 's he 's married he 's goin' off for a good long trip, all alone."

Susan ceased speaking for a little; Mrs. Lathrop looked dazed and dubious.

"It's so unex—" she said slowly.

"The beginnin' o' gettin' married always is," said her friend; "but it 's all there is about it 's is even unexpected. It's all cut an' dried from there on. Once you take a man, nothin' 's ever sudden no more. Folks expects all sorts o' pleasant surprises; everybody seems to get married for better, an' then get along for worse. They begin by imaginin' a lot 'n' then lookin' for the thing to be 'way beyond the imaginin'; it ain't long afore they see 't their imaginin' was 'way beyond the thing, 'n' after that they soon have it all on top o' them to carry till they die."

"I never was no great hand at marryin'," said Mrs. Lathrop, faintly. "I was propelled into it the first—"

"Well, nobody ain't propellin' you this time," said Miss Clegg. "I 'm hangin' back on your skirts, with my heels stuck in 's far 's they 'll go." She rose as she spoke.

"I don 't know what I shall—" began the older woman, looking up at the younger.

"You 've got all to-morrow to decide. He won't be back till five o'clock. I should n't worry, 'f I was you. O' course, it 's your last love affair, probably, 'n' you want to get 's much 's you can out of it; but I don't see no call to fret any. He ain't frettin'. He 's jus' in a hurry to get married, 'n' get rid o' Gran'ma Mullins 'n' Mrs. Macy an' Polly Ann an' 'Liza Em'ly, 'n' get started on that nice long trip he 's goin' on alone."

"I shall think—" murmured Mrs. Lathrop.

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