disappointment. Peter glanced at me suspiciously as he turned away. It is quite an ordinary occurrence to have one's chickens come home to roost, but not without their feathers, as two of mine did the next day. I could not look at them without a shudder, yet I could not keep from looking at them, and until Marion clothed them in two tiny shirts that Paul had worn in his infancy I could not smile at the fascinating absurdity of their appearance and the consternation of their friends and relatives. It was only too clear why Peter had not carried out his threat of going to the city that day to close the sale of the place; he had been lying in wait for my unfortunate chickens in his pea-field. My blood boiled at the thought of how the malevolent rascal must be chuckling over the way he had proved his case, but my anger was trifling in comparison with William's. "I tell you, Mr. Carton," he affirmed,[Pg 194] "I'll pay him back. I'll make him the laughin' stock of the county. Let me catch one of his critters on this side of the fence, and he won't be able to tell whether it's a bird of the air or a beast of the field when it goes home." [Pg 194] [Pg 195] [Pg 195] XI THE WEDDING-DAY XI THE WEDDING-DAY My cheerful, almost sprightly manner, at breakfast on the morning of Aunt Sophy's wedding-day cost me an effort, for instead of being able to make Marion a present of Waydean, as I had planned, I was compelled to conceal the depression I felt at the news from my agent that Peter had sold the place to the "other party," Roper's client. I noticed, during breakfast, that Marion and Aunt Sophy were continually exchanging confidential smiles and glances that were not intended to include me, for they looked consciously unconscious and avoided my eyes when I happened to intercept one of the silent messages. Still, I was so engaged in looking happy and free from care that the idea of Marion having prepared a surprise for me never entered my mind, although I wondered, when she handed me my mail[Pg 196] which William had brought from the post-office, why they both stared at me with such an appearance of eager expectation. At the bottom of the pile my eye was attracted by an envelope with, "Bates and Roper, Land Agents," printed in one corner. It was addressed to Marion, and as I held it up inquiringly she clapped her hands with delight and urged me
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