XLII
TOO BUSY TO BE MISERABLE
JEAN met her father and his wife at the breakfasttable with a welcoming smile, though her head ached, and on her countenance there was a deathly pallor.
"The last night's storm played havoc with the cherished plans of Mr. and Mrs. Burns," said Mary's hus- band, adroitly turning the conversation into a diverting channel. "They were intending to spend their honeymoon with their camping outfit in the open air among the spicy odors of the October woods."
"They are old enough, and ought to be wise enough, by this time, to spend their honeymoon at home. No bridegroom ever dreamed of taking his bride away from home during the honeymoon in my younger days; that is, nobody did with whom my lot was cast," said Captain Ranger, beaming tenderly upon his wife, who, being a sensible woman, was not displeased to note the far-away look in his eyes which betrayed his straying thoughts.
"You needn't make any plans for a new teacher, for the present at least, daddie," said Jean; "I shall resume my duties in the schoolroom next week. Will you post the required notices for me at the Four Corners, and at the sawmill, sometime during the day?"
"I wouldn't be in a hurry about teaching, daughter. Your Uncle Joseph has gone by private pony express in quest—"
He paused, uncertain as to the propriety of speaking the name that was uppermost in all their thoughts.
"I know it, daddie. I knew all that was going on when I lay yesterday in what seemed to you as a stupor. I can't explain it, but I seemed to have a double, or second, self that told me everything. Ashton is in trouble.
