"Newt! Oh, Newt!" came a voice down the stairway.
Mr. Van Clees jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
"She's kinder anxious about the dance to-night; wants to know what to wear."
Hart moved quickly back to the stairs, and, after some conversation in a low voice, trotted up to the second story. The older man smiled contentedly. It would be a relief to him to have his daughter married. To tell the truth, she had a will of her own, and had displayed a partiality for somehow getting into conversation with the drummers, and Mr. Van Clees distrusted the travelling fraternity, having an opinion of his own concerning their habits and their general ideas about young women. With the aid of the village dressmaker and the fashion papers, Miss Van Clees had long been renowned as the best-dressed girl in town. But the father hoped that the cares of matrimony would tone her down as a mere matter of economy.
It might be well to say that "Jackson," whose name appeared upon the advertisements of the store, was a silent partner who lived some thirty miles away at Plattemouth, whence
