I

In three years of exile from herself Carol had certain experiences chronicled as important by the Dauntless, or discussed by the Jolly Seventeen, but the event unchronicled, undiscussed, and supremely controlling, was her slow admission of longing to find her own people.

II

Bea and Miles Bjornstam were married in June, a month after “The Girl from Kankakee.”  Miles had turned respectable.  He had renounced his criticisms of state and society; he had given up roving as horse-trader, and wearing red mackinaws in lumber-camps; he had gone to work as engineer in Jackson Elder’s planing-mill; he was to be seen upon the streets endeavoring to be neighborly with suspicious men whom he had taunted for years.

Carol was the patroness and manager of the wedding.  Juanita Haydock mocked, “You’re a chump to let a good hired girl like Bea go.  Besides!  How do you know it’s a good thing, her marrying a sassy bum like this awful Red Swede person?  Get wise!  Chase the man off with a mop, and hold onto your Svenska while the holding’s good.  Huh?  Me go to their Scandahoofian wedding?  Not a chance!”

The other matrons echoed Juanita.  Carol was dismayed by the casualness of their cruelty, but she persisted.  Miles had exclaimed to her, “Jack Elder says maybe he’ll come to the wedding!  Gee, it would be nice to have Bea meet the Boss as a reg’lar married lady.  Some day I’ll be so well off that Bea can play with Mrs. Elder—­and you!  Watch us!”

There was an uneasy knot of only nine guests at the service in the unpainted Lutheran Church—­Carol, Kennicott, Guy Pollock, and the Champ Perrys, all brought by Carol; Bea’s frightened rustic parents, her cousin Tina, and Pete, Miles’s ex-partner in horse-trading, a surly, hairy man who had bought a black suit and come twelve hundred miles from Spokane for the event.

Miles continuously glanced back at the church door.  Jackson Elder did not appear.  The door did not once open after the awkward entrance of the first guests.  Miles’s hand closed on Bea’s arm.

He had, with Carol’s help, made his shanty over into a cottage with white curtains and a canary and a chintz chair.

Carol coaxed the powerful matrons to call on Bea.  They half scoffed, half promised to go.

Bea’s successor was the oldish, broad, silent Oscarina, who was suspicious of her frivolous mistress for a month, so that Juanita Haydock was able to crow, “There, smarty, I told you you’d run into the Domestic Problem!” But Oscarina adopted Carol as a daughter, and with her as faithful to the kitchen as Bea had been, there was nothing changed in Carol’s life.

III

She was unexpectedly appointed to the town library-board by Ole Jenson, the new mayor.  The other members were Dr. Westlake, Lyman Cass, Julius Flickerbaugh the attorney, Guy Pollock, and Martin Mahoney, former livery-stable keeper and now owner of a garage.  She was delighted.  She went to the first meeting rather condescendingly, regarding herself as the only one besides Guy who knew anything about books or library methods.  She was planning to revolutionize the whole system.