“That’ll be a good thing to tell Ham Morris, when he and Miranda get home again,” muttered Dab, as he re-entered the house.

Late that evening, when Dabney returned from his final duties as escort to his mother’s guests, she rewarded him with more than he could remember ever receiving of motherly commendation.

“I’ve been really quite proud of you, Dabney,” she said, as she laid her plump hand on the collar of his new coat, and kissed him.  “You’ve behaved like a perfect little gentleman.”

“Only, mother,” exclaimed Keziah, “he spent too much of his time with that sharp-tongued little Jenny Walters.”

“Never mind, Kezi,” said Dab:  “she didn’t know who I was till I told her.  I’m going to wear a label with my name on it when I go over to the village to-morrow.”

“And then you’ll put on your other suit in the morning,” said Mrs. Kinzer.  “You must keep this for Sundays and great occasions.”

“Any more weddings coming, right away?” said Dab, with a sharp glance around upon what remained of the family; but the girls were all very busy just then, with their books and their sewing, and he did not get any direct reply.  Even his mother walked away after something she had left in the dining-room.

When the next morning came, Dabney Kinzer was a more than usually early riser, for he felt that he had waked up to a very important day.

“Dabney,” exclaimed his mother, when he came in to breakfast, “did I not tell you to put on your other suit?”

“So I have, mother,” replied Dab:  this is my other suit.”

“That?” exclaimed Mrs. Kinzer.

“So it is!” cried Keziah.

“So it isn’t,” added Samantha.  “Mother, that is not what he had on yesterday.”

“He’s been trading again,” mildly suggested Pamela.

“Dabney,” said Mrs. Kinzer, “what does this mean?”

“Mean!” replied Dabney.  “Why, these are the clothes you told me to buy.  The lot I wore yesterday were a present from Ham Morris.  He’s a splendid fellow.  I’m glad he got the best of the girls.”

That was a bad thing for Dabney to say just then, for it was vigorously resented by the remaining three.  As soon as quiet was restored, however, Mrs. Kinzer remarked,—­

“I think Hamilton should have consulted me about it, but it’s too late now.  Anyhow, you may go and put on your other clothes.”

“My wedding suit?” asked Dab.

“No, indeed!  I mean your old ones,—­those you took off night before last.”

“Dunno where they are,” slowly responded Dab.

“Don’t know where they are?” responded a chorus of four voices.

“No,” said Dab.  “Bill Lee’s black boy had em on all yesterday afternoon, and I reckon he’s gone a-fishing again to-day.  They fit him a good sight better ’n they ever did me.”

If Dabney had expected a storm to come from his mother’s end of the table, he was pleasantly mistaken; and his sisters had it all to themselves for a moment.  Then, with an admiring glance at her son, the thoughtful matron remarked,—­