"Abigail is my assistant," she said slowly. "She has been a great help to me. She works with the younger students while I have lessons with the older ones."

Moses began to bluster again, but Elizabeth held up a hand to stop him, and something in the set of her face told him that she was serious.

"Now, Mr. Southern. I run my classroom the way I see fit. Thus far, I have had good success with my students, your daughter included. You will concede, sir, that I do not tell you how to set your traps, or what game you should hunt. I ask the same courtesy of you, that you allow me to judge where and when and whom I teach. And since you are so interested in the tutoring that goes on in my home, let me tell you that you are welcome to come by and join us at any time. We are reading the works of Thomas Paine at the present. You may be familiar with his philosophy on the rights of man?"

Moses' mouth opened and closed awkwardly, and then snapped shut suddenly.

"I don't like this business," he said. "And I ain't the only one. Just wait and see—"

"And I acknowledge your objections," Elizabeth countered icily. "Now, if you will excuse me———" And she turned back to the counter, where Anna stood with both fists on her hips. She had found a basket of cloth rests and Elizabeth looked through them. "These will do nicely," she said, fingering the squares. She did not flinch when Moses Southern thundered past her and out the door.

Elizabeth looked up into Anna's eyes, and she saw there a look perhaps not of complete agreement, but of grudging acceptance. She knew that she was testing the limits of the villagers' tolerance, and knew too how much she depended on the support and goodwill of those who would defend her in public.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Anna folded her mouth into a straight line, as if she were considering taking up the subject Moses had dropped. She would do it less combatively, Elizabeth knew, but the end result would be the same: she was uncomfortable with the fact that Many-Doves had a hand in the teaching. They all were. Elizabeth was suddenly very tired of the struggle. She looked down at the basket of handkerchiefs.

"What's this?" she asked, pulling out a solitary piece of fine embroidered lawn. It was edged with knitted lace and slightly yellowed with age.

"Oh, Lordy, I forgot all about that. Bought it in Albany some many years ago. Never found nobody wanted to buy it, though. Too fancy for the folks around here. Old Olga Schlesinger used to come by regular, offer me a bushel of taters for it. But I couldn't part with it at that price. Since she died ain't nobody been interested in such a fancy piece."

Anna glanced up at Elizabeth with amusement sparking suddenly on her broad face.

"Looks to me like a hankie a bride might need on her wedding day. If only we had a bride in these parts, maybe I could sell it."

Elizabeth saw too late that she had extricated herself from one difficult subject only to land in a topic area even more sensitive. Her first impulse was to deny hotly that she was anywhere near being a bride, but she could not do that. Richard had been a steady visitor to her father's home for the past weeks, and Elizabeth had encouraged him. They had walked out together. She had visited his home. All this was common knowledge. Of course, Anna was thinking about a wedding party. What was worse, Elizabeth needed to encourage her further.

Julian roused himself to come look over Elizabeth's shoulder. "Thinking about your bridal clothes already, sister? I had no idea Todd was quite so quick off the mark." His tone was light, but he watched Elizabeth very closely.

"Now, you leave Miz Elizabeth alone," Anna said, shooing Julian away, but she grinned broadly. "This here is women's business."

"That's quite all right," Elizabeth said with a prim smile. "Please do wrap up the handkerchief. I may well have a use for it one day in the not too distant future." And she sent her brother a cool stare, thinking how surprised he would be if he only knew what she really had in mind.

The door opened behind her. Elizabeth tensed, suddenly sure that Nathaniel was standing there. She hadn't seen him at all since their long talk in the barn, four weeks ago. In the past few days, she had started taking walks she thought might put her in his path, but with no success. Nathaniel was as good as his word: he avoided her completely. When the sugar—maple sap rose a week earlier than expected, Hannah had asked her to come to Hidden Wolf for their celebration, but close questioning had made it clear that this was her idea and not an invitation passed on from Nathaniel. As much as it hurt her to disappoint the child, she had found excuses enough to stay away.

Making every effort to settle her face in a neutral expression, Elizabeth turned.

"Dutch Ton!" exclaimed Jed. "What the devil are you doing in Paradise?"

Elizabeth recognized the trapper immediately as the man who had run the betting at the Barktown lacrosse game. His blue eyes squinted out at them from a network of grimy wrinkles in a face sprouting tufts of dun—colored hair. Even from where she stood across the room, Elizabeth took in the waves of odor which drifted off the man. Her students had taught her that an acute sense of smell was a luxury she couldn't afford, but even the worst of the children had nothing on Dutch Ton's aged fragrance. She pressed one of the new handkerchiefs to her nose, closed her eyes and counted to ten.

"Close the door!" Anna barked, bustling forward. "You old fool! What do you mean, standing there like a mummy! Speak up! If you came for a bath—which I must say is the one thing I would recommend for the sake of our noses—you're in the wrong place. I don't rent out tubs no more."