barrel; once when Blair came to the door, she was walking up and
down knitting rapidly, thinking out some project; her ball of
zephyr had fallen on the floor, and dragging along behind her,
unwinding and unwinding, had involved her hurrying tramp in a
grimy, pink tangle.

Each time Blair had looked into the room it was policed by this
absorbed presence. "We'll _never_ get married!" he said in
despair. The delay had a disastrous effect upon romance, for
David, with the melancholy candor of a reasoning temperament, was
continually saying that he doubted the desirability of Nannie as
a wife; and Elizabeth was just as hesitant about Blair.

"Suppose I took a hate to you for a husband? Uncle Robert says if
you don't like being married, you can't stop."

"You won't want to stop. Married people don't have to go to
school!"

Elizabeth sighed. "But I don't know but what maybe I'd like David
for a husband?"

"He doesn't have but ten cents a week allowance, and I have a
dollar," Blair reminded her.

"Well, I don't believe I like being married, anyway," she
fretted; "I like going out to the toll-house for ice-cream
better."

Her uncertainty made Blair still more impatient to finance his