“Well, you needn’t worry about—­” Matthew was continuing to say, with the deepest uncertainty in his face and voice.

“I won’t,” I answered.  “Did Bess say she could get enough people together to dance to-night?”

“We’ll all go out to the country club and have a great fling,” said Matthew, with the soothing tone of voice that one would use to a friend temporarily mentally deranged.  “Hope Mother Corn-tassel lets Polly go.”

“There she is waiting at the gate for us with her frills in a bundle.  Swoop her up, Matt, and fly for fear she is getting off without Aunt Mary’s seeing her.  Aunt Mary is so bent on keeping Polly’s milking hand in.”

“That young Belgian says he’s a good milker, and you needn’t worry about—­”

“I won’t,” I again answered Matthew, and there was snap enough in my eyes and voice to make him whistle under his breath as he literally swooped up Polly, and they both had the good sense to begin to talk about town affairs and leave unmentioned all rural matters.

Half-way into town Matthew swapped me for his Belgian in Owen’s car, and Polly and I went on in with Owen and Bess, while Matthew returned out the Riverfield ribbon to install the rescuer of Elmnest.

“Oh, Ann, this is delicious,” said Bess as she came back with me to cuddle me and ask questions.  “But what are—­”

“Bess,” I said, looking her straight in the face with determination, “I am going to marry Matt two days before you marry Owen, though he doesn’t know it yet, and if you talk about Elmnest to me I’ll go and stay with Belle this week.”

“How perfectly lovely, and how tired you are, poor dear!” Bess congratulated and exclaimed all in the same breath, then imparted both my announcement and my injunction to Owen on the front seat.  I didn’t look at Polly while Owen was laughing and exclaiming, but when I did she looked queer and quiet; however, I didn’t let that at all affect the nice crisp crust that had hardened on me overnight.  And I must say that if Corn-tassel wasn’t happy that evening surrounded by the edition of masculine society that Matt had so carefully expurgated for her, she ought to have been.

By that time I had told Matthew about his approaching marriage, accepted his bear-hug of joy, delivered before Bess and Polly and Owen and Belle, and I had been congratulated and received back into the bosom of my friends with great joy and hilarity.

“Now I can take care of you forever and ever, Ann,” whispered Matthew in his good-night, with his lips against my ear.  And there in his strong, sustaining arms, even though limp with fatigue, I knew I never did, could, or would, love anybody like I loved him.  I don’t really suppose I did hear Polly sob on her pillow beside mine, where she had insisted on reposing.  She must have been all right, for she was gone out into the rural district with Matthew before I was awake the next morning.