HUNCH took charge of the funeral. After it was over, and while the man was closing the casket, he stepped to the front porch for a breath of air. Jess Bartlett had lingered after the service, and now stood alone on the steps. Hunch hesitated in the doorway. He had not thought of Jess during the last few days, and now he did not know what to say. But she was determined that he should speak first, so after an embarrassing silence he said, “Hello, Jess.”

She turned away.

“Ain’t you going to speak to me, Jess.”

“I don’t see as I ought to speak to you.”

Hunch looked at her helplessly, and when, after a minute, she turned and saw his expression, she partly relented.

“When are you coming to see me again?”

“You know why I ain’t been ‘round, Jess.”

“I waited for you the other night. You said you were coming.”

“I know it, Jess. I’m sorry. Can’t I come to-night?”

“I s’pose you can if you want to.”

They could not say any more, for it was time to start the carriages. But early in the evening Hunch went to her house, and they walked to the lake? They found it hard to talk. Hunch finally blurted out, “I’m going to get the ring next week. It’s a pretty one, I think.”

He felt her arm tremble, but she said nothing.

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