an' began to take notice; an' before a week was out every bachelor had bought a new necktie. Eben Snow told me so an' he'd oughter know bein' the one that sells 'em."

[12]

"Abbie!"

"It's true. An' why, pray, shouldn't the men cast sheep's eyes at Marcia? Can you blame 'em? She'd be one wife in a hundred could a body win her. There ain't a thing she can't do from shinglin' a barn down to trimmin' a hat. She's the match of any old salt at sailin' a boat an' can pull an oar strong as the best of 'em. Along with that she can sew, cook, an' mend; plow an' plant; paper a room. An' all the time, whatever she's doin', she'd bewitch you with her smile an' her pretty ways. It's a marvel to me how she's kept out of matrimony long's this with so many men millerin' 'round her."

"She certainly's takin' her time. She don't 'pear to be in no hurry to get a husband," smiled Rebecca.

"Why should she be? Her parents left her with money in the bank an' the Homestead to boot, an' Marcia was smart enough not to let Jason make ducks and drakes of her property. She dealt out to him what she thought he better have an' held fast to the rest. As a result, she's uncommon well-off."

"All men mightn't fancy havin' a wife hold the tiller, though."

Rebecca Gill pursed her lips.

[13]

[13]

"Any man Marcia Howe married would have to put up with it," Abbie asserted, biting off a needleful of thread with a snap of her fine white teeth. "Marcia's always been captain of the ship an' she always will be."

Gathering up her mending, Rebecca rose.

"Well, I can't stay here settlin' Marcia's future," she laughed. "I've got to be goin' home. Lemmy'll be wantin' his supper. He can't, though, accuse me of fritterin' the afternoon away. I've darned every pair of stockin's in this bag an' there was scores of 'em. You turn off such things quicker when you're in good company."

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