“Yes,” said Mrs. Rolliffe; “Zeke was very forward.  If he holds out as he began—­Well, well, Zeke allus was a little forward, and able to speak for himself.  You are young yet, Susan, and may learn before you reach my years that the race isn’t allus to the swift.  Don’t be in haste to promise yourself to any of the young men.”

“Little danger of my promising myself to a man who is afraid even of me!  I want a husband like grandfather.  He wasn’t afraid to face anything, and he honored his wife by acting as if she wasn’t afraid either.”

Zeb gave Susie no chance to bestow the rebuffs she had premeditated.  He had been down to witness the departure of the Opinquake quota, and had seen Susie’s farewell to Zeke Watkins.  How much it had meant he was not sure—­enough to leave no hope or chance for him, he had believed; but he had already fought his first battle, and it had been a harder one than Zeke Watkins or any of his comrades would ever engage in.  He had returned and worked on the stony farm until dark.  From dawn until dark he continued to work every secular day till September.

His bronzed face grew as stern as it was thin; and since he would no longer look at her, Susie Rolliffe began to steal an occasional and wondering glance at him “’tween meetings.”

No one understood the young man or knew his plans except his patient, sad-eyed mother, and she learned more by her intuitions than from his spoken words.  She idolized him, and he loved and revered her:  but the terrible Puritan restraint paralyzed manifestations of affection.  She was not taken by surprise when one evening he said quietly, “Mother, I guess I’ll start in a day or two.”

She could not repress a sort of gasping sob however, but after a few moments was able to say steadily, “I supposed you were preparing to leave us.”

“Yes, mother, I’ve been a-preparing.  I’ve done my best to gather in everything that would help keep you and the children and the stock through the winter.  The corn is all shocked, and the older children can help you husk it, and gather in the pumpkins, the beans, and the rest.  As soon as I finish digging the potatoes I think I’ll feel better to be in the lines around Boston.  I’d have liked to have gone at first, but in order to fight as I ought I’d want to remember there was plenty to keep you and the children.”

“I’m afraid, Zebulon, you’ve been fighting as well as working so hard all summer long.  For my sake and the children’s, you’ve been letting Susan Rolliffe think meanly of you.”

“I can’t help what she thinks, mother; I’ve tried not to act meanly.”