Mrs. Bennett patted Katherine affectionately and sent her back to finish her breakfast. Katherine went rather reluctantly and sat with her chin on her cupped palm. The sleeve of her morning gown showed faded and somewhat worn against Mrs. Bennett's good white linen, and Elizabeth felt suddenly sorry for Katherine, who so enjoyed beautiful things but had so few of them herself. Elizabeth caught sight of her own face in the silver of the teapot, the lace at her neck, and the fine gray silk of her own morning gown. She reached for the paper.

"Let's see," she said. Katherine brightened up immediately.

Elizabeth skimmed the advertisements for the one that had aroused Katherine's interest. "Ah," she said finally, and read out loud:

CLEMENTINA STOWE, Has just imported, and has for SALE at her STORE on the Johnstown Main Street a very neat assortment of MILLINERY GOODS consisting of the following articles, caps, stomachers, shoe—Nots, Italian sprigs, lace, thread lace and edging, spotted satin, crimson ditto, black pee longs a great variety of sash and other ribbons, fashionable fans, all which she will dispose of on the lowest TERMS."

* * *

"You've been thinking of doing over your hat, I know," said Mrs. Bennett. "Mrs. Stowe has some lovely things."

"Then you must all go and satisfy your curiosity," said Mr. Bennett, folding his own paper and looking around the table as if he had just woken up. "And I must get to the office."

Elizabeth smiled. "May I come by and see your offices, Mr. Bennett?" she asked. "While we are in town?"

Mr. Bennett, about forty—five years of age, was a round, slightly soft—looking man, with a broad, good—natured face. Unless you looked at his eyes—which missed nothing at all in spite of their pallid blue—you might overlook Mr. Bennett completely. Elizabeth had felt him observing her more than once on her first evening as their guest. She had found him more than willing to discuss the turn of events in the French Revolution which had led—she learned with great unease—to the recent execution of the king. He had been the only one of the Bennetts to show any interest in her plans to teach school; they had even had a discussion about Mrs. Wollstonecraft, whose writings he had actually read, and thought about.

"Do you have a question of the law for me, Miss Middleton?" he asked now.

"Heavens," said Mrs. Bennett. "Why would Miss Middleton have need of the magistrate? I'm sure she would just like to see all of Johnstown while she is here."

"I thought we were going to the milliner's shop," said Katherine, saving Elizabeth the trouble of being more specific about her interest in Mr. Bennett's work.

"Yes, let's do that," Elizabeth said, rising from her place.

"I will detain you no longer, my dear," he said to his wife. "And please do bring the young ladies by the offices. I would be pleased to see you all there."

* * *

It took Elizabeth considerably less time to dress than it would take Katherine and Mrs. Bennett; she had learned this fact on the first morning of her visit, and now prepared herself for a half hour's wait by taking the paper with her to her room.

The Bennetts were quite wealthy, and their home was furnished in the latest style. The room they had given to Elizabeth was dominated by a large four—poster bed which was hung with a beautiful floral chintz and piled so high with feather comforters that the brass warming pan was almost unnecessary. Now Elizabeth sat by the window in a little bow—backed chair upholstered in a matching velvet and read the paper. She had gone through many notices of meetings of the local government and reports of legal disputes when her attention was claimed by the advertisements. There were ponies and land and bear traps for sale, but there were more personal matters as well. "Lydia Mathers," Elizabeth read,

* * *

the wife of the subscriber, has eloped from her lawful husband in the company of one Harrison Beauchamp, known gadabout and suspected thief taking with her a good pewter jug, twenty pound in coin, three silver spoons, a snuff box, the slave girl Eliza and her husband's good underclothes. By this notice her much injured husband thinks it prudent to forewarn all persons from trusting her on his account, being determined, after such flagrant proof of her bad behavior, to pay no debts of her contracting. I treated her well.

Thy—Will—Be—Done Mathers of Canajoharee.

* * *

Elizabeth didn't know whether she should be more shocked at Mrs. Mathers' behavior or at her own first and abiding impulse to laugh out loud at another's misfortune. I have been here not even two months, she thought, and my sense of propriety has been permanently undone. She read the advertisement once again and wondered at a place in which a man would advertise so openly that his lawful wife had eloped with another man. At her aunt Merriweather's there was occasional talk of elopement, but the brides were always young women with more opportunity than good sense. Girls who ran off to Scotland to be married to men with too little money or who otherwise pleased their families too little. "Mark my words," aunt Merriweather had said without exception when these cases came to their attention. "Happy unions cannot take root under such a cloud of deception and artifice."

The next notice was much less amusing.

* * *

RUNAWAY SLAVE. Goes by Joe. Well grown field negro especially dark skinned, missing two toes on the left foot, run away from me Tuesday last.

Thought to be headed into the Bush. Reward.

M. Depardieu, Pumpkin Hollow.