When they went home again, side by side, the fencing was all done, and
David had an after-consciousness of happy playtime. He carried the
basket, with his axe, and Letty, like an untired little dog, took brief
excursions of discovery here and there, and came back to his side with
her weedy treasures. Once--was it something in the air?--he called to
her:--
"Say, Letty, wa'n't it about this kind o' weather the day we were
married?"
But Letty gave a little cry, and pointed out a frail white butterfly on
a mullein leaf. "See there, David! how cold he looks! I'd like to take
him along. He'll freeze to-night." David forgot his question, and she
was glad. Some inner voice was at her heart, warning her to leave the
day unspoiled. Her joy lay in remembering; it seemed a small thing to
her that he should forget.
"We've had a real good time," he said, as he gave her the basket at the
kitchen door. "Now, as soon as thrashin' 's done, we'll go to Star
Pond."
After supper they covered up the squashes, for fear of a frost; and
then they stood for a moment in the field, and looked at the harvest
moon, risen in a great effrontery of splendor.
"Letty," asked David suddenly, "shouldn't you like to put on your
little ring? It's right here in my pocket.
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