"Mattie, I hope 'tain't so.... I hope you're mistook."

"I--I don't know whether I hope so or not. I--Oh, Mr. Baines, I'd rather
be with him, a-comfortin' him and standin' by him, no matter what he
done--"

Scattergood patted her arm. "I calc'late," he said, softly, "that God
hain't never invented no institution that beats the love of a good
woman.... I'll look around, Mattie.... I'll look around."

It was the next morning, at the ball game, when Mattie spoke to
Scattergood again.

"I've seen him," she whispered, and there was a note of happiness in her
voice and a look of renewed youth in her eyes. "He's here, like I said."

"Where?"

Mattie lowered her voice farther still. "Look at the band," she said.

"Nobody resembles him there," said Scattergood, after a minute.

"Wait till they stop playin'--and then see if they hain't somebody
there that takes holt of the fingers of his right hand, one after the
other, and kind of twists 'em.... Look sharp. Mavin he allus done that
when he was nervous--allus. I'd know him by it, anywheres."

Scattergood watched. Presently the "piece" ended and the musicians laid
down their instruments and eased back in their chairs.