Meantime the overseer sought out Ware in his office.  His manner of stating his grievance was singular.  He began by swearing at his employer.  He had been insulted before all the quarter—­his rage fairly choked him, he could not speak.

Tom seized the opportunity to swear back.  He wanted to know if he hadn’t troubles enough without the overseer’s help?  If he’d got himself insulted it was his own affair and he could lump it, generally speaking, and get out of that office!  But Tom’s fury quickly spent itself.  He wanted to know what the matter was.

“Sent you off the place, did she; well, you’ll have to eat crow.  I’ll do all I can.  I don’t know what girls were ever made for anyhow, damned if I do!” he added plaintively, as a realization of a stupendous mistake on the part of nature overwhelmed him.

Hicks consented to eat crow only after Mr. Ware had cursed and cajoled him into a better and more forgiving frame of mind.  Then Tom hurried off to find Betty and put matters right; a more difficult task than he had reckoned on, for Betty was obdurate and her indignation flared up at mention of the incident; all his powers of argument and persuasion were called into requisition before she would consent to Hicks remaining, and then only on that most uncertain tenure, his good behavior.

“Now you come up to the house,” said Tom, when he had won his point and gone back to Hicks, “and get done with it.  I reckon you talked when you should have kept your blame familiar mouth shut!  Come on, and get it over with, and say you’re sorry.”

Later, after Hicks had made his apology, the two men smoked a friendly pipe and discussed the situation.  Tom pointed out that opposition was useless, a losing game, you could get your way by less direct means.  She wouldn’t stay long at Belle Plain, but while she did remain they must avoid any more crises of the sort through which they had just passed, and presently; she’d be sick of the place.  Tom wagged his head.  She was sick of it already only she hadn’t the sense to know it.  It wasn’t good enough.  Nothing suited-the house—­the grounds—­nothing!

In the midst of her activities Betty occasionally found time to think of Bruce Carrington.  She was sure she did not wish to see him again!  But when three weeks had passed she began to feel incensed that he had not appeared.  She thought of him with hot cheeks and a quickening beat of the heart.  It was anger.  Naturally she was very indignant, as she had every right to be!  He was the first man who had dared—!

Then one day when she had decided for ever to banish all memory of him from her mind, and never, under any circumstances, to think of him again, he presented himself at Belle Plain.

She was in her room just putting the finishing touches to an especially satisfying toilet when her maid tapped on the door and told her there was a gentleman in the parlor who wished to see her.