"A pretty bit of vanity, is she?" inquired the stranger lightly, and
fell back the next instant before the vigorous form of the miller, who
swung round upon him with the smothered retort, "That's a lie!" The
boyish face of the young countryman had paled under his sunburn and he
spoke with the suppressed passion of a man who is not easily angered and
who responds to the pressure of some absorbing emotion.

"Lord, Lord, Abel, Mr. Jonathan warn't meanin' no particular disrespect,
not mo' was I," quavered old Adam.

"You're too pipin' hot, miller," interposed Solomon. "They warn't
meanin' any harm to you nor to the gal either. With half the county
courtin' her it ain't to be expected that she'd go as sober as a grey
mare, is it?"

"Well, they're wastin' their time," retorted the miller, "for she
marries me, thank God, this coming April."

Turning away the next instant, he vaulted astride the bare back of the
mare, and started at a gallop in the direction of the turnpike.

"I'll be blessed if that little gal of Reuben Merryweather's ain't his
religion," commented young Adam.

"An' he's of the opinion that he's going to marry her this comin'
spring," cackled Solomon. "Well, I could be namin' two or three others
of the same mind, if I'd take the trouble. It's all sensible enough to
lambaste the women when they don't pick up every virtue that we throw
away, but what's to be expected of 'em, I ax, when all the men sence