Then she would make believe she was going to ask daddy to let them be married right away, insisting that two rooms were enough for them, and that she herself would do the washing and ironing and the cooking, at which Jack would laugh over the joy of it all, conjuring up in his mind the pattern of apron she would wear and how pretty her bare arms would be bending over the tub, knowing all the time that he would no more have allowed her to do any one of these things than he would have permitted her to chop the winter's wood.
Most of these day dreams, plots, and imaginings were duly reported by letter to Miss Felicia to see what she thought of them all.

For the dear lady's opposition had long since broken down.

In these letters Ruth poured out her heart as she did to no one except Jack; each missive interspersed with asides as to how dear Jack was, and how considerate, and how it would not be a very long time before she would soon get the other half of the dear lady's laces, now that daddy and Jack (the boy had been given an interest in the business) were going to make lots of money on the new work--to all of which Miss Felicia replied that love in a garret was what might be expected of fools, but that love in a log-cabin could only be practised by lunatics.
It was toward the close of this pre-honey-moon--it lasted only ten days, but it was full moon every hour and no clouds--when, early one morning--before nine o'clock, really--a night message was handed to Jack.

It had been sent to the brick office, but the telegraph boy, finding that building closed and abandoned, had delivered it to Mrs.
Hicks, who, discovering it to be sealed, forwarded it at once, and by the same hand, to the MacFarlane house, known now to everybody as the temporary headquarters, especially in the day time, of the young superintendent who was going to marry the daughter--"and there ain't a nicer, nor a better, nor a prettier." On this morning, then, the two had planned a day in the woods back of the hills; Ruth's mare was to be hooked up to a hired buggy, and such comforts as a bucket of ice, lettuce sandwiches thin as wafers, a cold chicken, a spirit lamp, teapot, and cups and saucers, not to mention a big shawl for my sweetheart to sit on, and another smaller one for her lovely shoulders when the cool of the evening came on, were to be stowed away under the seat.
"That telegram is from Aunt Felicia, I know," said Ruth.

"She has set her heart on my coming up to Geneseo, but I cannot go, Jack.