Josiah smiled.  “You’ll please to excuse me, Captain—­but I thought I ought to tell you about that fool Billy.  He was bobbin’ for eels—­and—­he saw you go by—­”

“Well, what else?”

“He met me and he said, ‘Saw Mr. John kissin’ Miss Leila!’ He was off like a shot singin’ out ‘Goin’ to get married, sure.’  It will be all over Westways by noon, sir.”

John laughed.  “Well, it’s true, Josiah—­Confound Billy!  Well, what more?”

“Oh, I would rather live with you.  The Colonel wants to give me a farm—­don’t want any farm.”

“Well, well—­we’ll see about it later.”

“The trouble would be, sir, who’s to shave the Colonel?”

“That’s serious,” said John, as he rode away to rejoin Leila, who had meant to keep their secret from the village until their aunt’s return.  Three days went by before Ann Penhallow’s letter of reply came to hand.

“Well, any more news, Leila?” said John.

“Yes, but not altogether pleasant—­I am to leave early tomorrow.  Uncle Jim will meet me in Philadelphia—­and, oh!  I know Aunt Ann well—­there will be no end of shopping.”

“I should feel worse about it, Leila, but I see by one of my letters that there is some row in Pittsburgh over our last rails.  I am not responsible, but I must go to-night and see about it.  Isn’t it dreadful, Leila?”

The two having come of late into a great inheritance in fairyland demanding close personal attention were at one as regarded absence.

After dinner Leila said, “My order to report to headquarters from heart-quarters was in the second post-script.  I have saved the rest of the letter for you.”

“Read it, please.”

“MY DEAR CHILDREN:  You are a pair of young ostriches—­you know what they do.  Did you suppose a middle-aged ostrich could not use her eyes?  I did think it took a quite needless length of time.”

“Isn’t that absurd, John, as if—­”

“Well, what more?”

She read on—­“I dislike long engagements—­”

“Now, that is better, Leila.”

“Your uncle says you must live at Grey Pine.  I said, no—­young married people had better be alone.  He must build you a house on the river nearer the mills.  I am making a list of what furniture you will require—­”

“There is more of that—­much more, John, and a list of things to be done before her return.  Isn’t that like what aunt was before the war?”

John laughed.  “Well, she will have her way.”

“More or less,” said Leila.  “Oh, there’s another postscript!”

“Well?”

“I think you should be married about Christmas week.  Of course, Mark Rivers will marry you, and I shall ask the Bishop to assist, when I see him on our way home.  Don’t fail to write to both your uncles.”

“It is certainly complete,” said John.  He left for Pittsburgh that night.

* * * * *