"That match is as good as made," she thought triumphantly as she picked up chips to start the tea fire. "If Judith suspects that Eben is here she is quite likely to stay in her room and refuse to come down. But if she does I'll march him upstairs to her door and make him ask her through the keyhole. You can't stump Theodora Whitney."
Alas! Ten minutes later Potter returned with the unwelcome news that Eben was away from home.
"He went to Wexbridge about half an hour ago, his ma said. She said she'd tell him to come right over as soon as he kem home."
Mrs. Theodora had to content herself with this, but she felt troubled. She knew Mrs. Tony Mack's capabilities for spreading news. What if Bruce Marshall should hear it before Eben?
That evening Jacob Plowden's store at Wexbridge was full of men, sitting about on kegs and counters or huddling around the stove, for the March air had grown sharp as the sun lowered in the creamy sky over the Ramble Valley hills. Eben King had a keg in the corner. He was in no hurry to go home for he loved gossip dearly and the Wexbridge stores abounded with it. He had exhausted the news of Peter Stanley's store across the bridge and now he meant to hear what was saying at Plowden's. Bruce Marshall was there, too, buying groceries and being waited on by Nora Plowden, who was by no means averse to the service, although as a rule her father's customers received scanty tolerance at her hands.
"What are the Valley roads like, Marshall?" asked a Wexbridge man, between two squirts of tobacco juice.
"Bad," said Bruce briefly. "Another warm day will finish the sleighing."
"Are they crossing at Malley's Creek yet?" asked Plowden.
"No, Jack Carr got in there day before yesterday. Nearly lost his mare. I came round by the main road," responded Bruce.
The door opened at this point and Tony Mack came in. As soon as he closed the door he doubled up in a fit of chuckles, which lasted until he was purple in the face.