Harvey was clamoring for an early wedding. And indeed there were few
arguments against it, save one that Sara Lee buried in her heart.
Belle's house was small, and though she was welcome there, and more than
that, Sara Lee knew that she was crowding the family.

Perhaps Sara Lee would have agreed in the end. There seemed to be
nothing else to do, though by the end of the first week she was no longer
in any doubt as to what her feeling for Harvey really was. It was
kindness, affection; but it was not love. She would marry him because
she had promised to, and because their small world expected her to do so;
and because she could not shame him again.

For to her surprise she found that that was what he had felt--a strange,
self-conscious shame, like that of a man who has been jilted. She felt
that by coming back to him she had forfeited the right to break the
engagement.

So every hour of every day seemed to make the thing more inevitable.
Belle was embroidering towels for her in her scant leisure. Even Anna,
with a second child coming, sent in her contribution to the bride's
linen chest. By almost desperately insisting on a visit to Aunt Harriet
she got a reprieve of a month. And Harvey was inclined to be jealous
even of that.

Sometimes, but mostly at night when she was alone, a hot wave of
resentment overwhelmed her. Why should she be forced into the thing?
Was there any prospect of happiness after marriage when there was so
little before?