If "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" a man spurned in love

sometimes runs a close second.

One day in March Lyman Mertzheimer came home for the week-end. His

first thought was to call at the Reist home.

Amanda, outwardly improved--Millie said, "All because of that there

boneset tea"--welcomed spring and its promise, but she could not extend

to Lyman Mertzheimer the same degree of welcome.

"It's that Lyman again," Millie reported after she had opened the door

for the caller. "He looks kinda mad about something. What's he hangin'

round here for all the time every time he gets home from school when

abody can easy see you don't like him to come?"

"Oh, I don't know. He just drops in. I guess because we were youngsters

together."

"Um, mebbe," grunted Millie wisely to herself as Amanda went to see her

visitor. "I ain't blind and neither did I come in the world yesterday.

That Lyman's wantin' to be Amanda's beau and she don't want him. Guess

he'll stand watchin' if he gets turned down. I never did like them

Mertzheimers--all so up in the air they can hardly stand still to look

at abody."

Lyman was standing at the window, looking out gloomily. He turned as

Amanda came into the room.

"I had to come, Amanda--hang it, you keep a fellow on pins and needles!

You wouldn't answer my letters--"

"I told you not to write."

"But why? Aren't you going to change your mind? I made up my mind long

ago that I'd marry you some day and a Mertzheimer is a good deal like a

bulldog when it comes to hanging on."

"Lyman, why hash the thing over so often? I don't care for you. Go find

some nice girl who will care for you."

"Um," he said dejectedly, "I want you. I thought you just wanted to be

coaxed, but I'm beginning to think you mean it. So you don't care for

me--I suppose you'd snatch Martin Landis in a hurry if you could get

him! But he's poor as a church mouse! You better tie him to your apron

strings--that pretty Souders girl from Lancaster is playing her cards

there--"

Amanda sprang to her feet. "Lyman," she sputtered--"you--you better go

before I make you sorry you said that."

The luckless lover laughed, a reckless, demoniac peal. "Two can play at

that game!" he told her. "You're so high and mighty that a Mertzheimer

isn't good enough for you. But you better look out--we've got claws!"

The girl turned and went out of the room. A moment later she heard the

front door slammed and knew that Lyman had gone. His covert threat--

what did he mean? What vengeance could he wreak on her? Oh, what a

complicated riddle life had grown to be! She remembered Aunt Rebecca's

warning that tears would have to balance all the laughter. How she

yearned for the old, happy childhood days to come back to her! She

clutched frantically at the quickly departing joy and cheerfulness of

that far-off past.




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