Battle Ground

by Ellen Anderson Gholson Glasgow

  I

  THE MAJOR'S CHRISTMAS

  On Christmas Eve the great logs blazed at Chericoke. From the open door thered light of the fire streamed through the falling snow upon the broaddrive where the wheel ruts had frozen into ribbons of ice. The naked boughsof the old elms on the lawn tapped the peaked roof with twigs as cold andbright as steel, and the two high urns beside the steps had an iridescentfringe around their marble basins.

  In the hall, beneath swinging sprays of mistletoe and holly, the Major andhis hearty cronies were dipping apple toddy from the silver punch bowl halfhidden in its wreath of evergreens. Behind them the panelled parlour wasaglow with warmth, and on its shining wainscoting Great-aunt Emmeline,under her Christmas garland, held her red apple stiffly away from the skirtof her amber brocade.

  The Major, who had just filled the rector's glass, let the ladle fall witha splash, and hurried to the open door.

  "They're coming, Molly!" he called excitedly, "I hear their horses in thedrive. No, bless my soul, it's wheels! The Governor's here, Molly! Filltheir glasses at once--they'll be frozen through!"

  Mrs. Lightfoot, who had been watching from the ivied panes of the parlour,rustled, with sharp exclamation, into the hall, and began hastily dippingfrom the silver punch bowl. "I really think, Mr. Lightfoot, that the housewould be more comfortable if you'd be content to keep the front doorclosed," she found time to remark. "Do take your glass by the fire, Mr.Blake; I declare, I positively feel the sleet in my face. Don't you thinkit would be just as hospitable, Mr. Lightfoot, to open to them when theyknock?"

  "What, keep the door shut on Christmas Eve, Molly!" exclaimed the Majorfrom the front steps, where the snow was falling on his bare head. "Why,you're no better than a heathen. It's time you were learning your catechismover again. Ah, here they are, here they are! Come in, ladies, come in. Thenight is cold, but the welcome's warm.--Cupid, you fool, bring an umbrella,and don't stand grinning there.--Here, my dear Miss Lydia, take my arm, andnever mind the weather; we've the best apple toddy in Virginia to warm youwith, and the biggest log in the woods for you to look at. Ah, come in,come in," and he led Miss Lydia, in her white wool "fascinator," into thehouse where Mrs. Lightfoot stood waiting with open arms and the appletoddy. The Governor had insisted upon carrying his wife, lest she chill herfeet, and Betty and Virginia, in their long cloaks, fluttered across thesnow and up the steps. As they reached the hall, the Major caught them inhis arms and soundly kissed them. "It isn't Christmas every day, you know,"he lamented ruefully, "and even our friend Mr. Addison wasn't steeledagainst rosy cheeks, though he was but a poor creature who hadn't been toVirginia. But come to the fire, come to the fire. There's eggnog to yourliking, Mr. Bill, and just a sip of this, Miss Lydia, to warm you up. Youmay defy the wind, ma'am, with a single sip of my apple toddy." He seizedthe poker and, while Congo brought the glasses, prodded the giant log untilthe flames leaped, roaring, up the chimney and the wainscoting glowed deepred.

  "What, not a drop, Miss Lydia?" he cried, in aggrieved tones, when heturned his back upon the fire.

  Miss Lydia shook her head, blushing as she untied her "fascinator." She wasfond of apple toddy, but she regarded the taste as an indelicate one, andwould as soon have admitted, before gentlemen, a liking for cabbage.

  "Don't drink it, dear," she whispered to Betty, as the girl took her glass;"it will give you a vulgar colour."

  Betty turned upon her the smile of beaming affection with which she alwaysregarded her family. She was standing under the mistletoe in her light bluecloak and hood bordered with swan's-down, and her eyes shone like lamps inthe bright pallor of her face.

  "Why, it is delicious!" she said, with the pretty effusion the old manloved. "It is better than my eggnog, isn't it, papa?"

  "If anything can be better than your eggnog, my dear," replied theGovernor, courteously, "it is the Major's apple toddy." The Major bowed,and Betty gave a merry little nod. "If you hadn't put it so nicely, Ishould never have forgiven you," she laughed; "but he always puts itnicely, Major, doesn't he? I made him the other day a plum pudding of myvery own,--I wouldn't even let Aunt Floretta seed the raisins,--and when itcame on burnt, what do you think he said? Why, I asked him how he liked it,and he thought for a minute and replied, 'My dear, it's the very best burntplum pudding I ever ate.' Now wasn't that dear of him?"

  "Ah, but you should have heard how he put things when he was in politics,"said the Major, refilling his glass. "On my word, he could make the truthsound sweeter than most men could make a lie."

  "Come, come, Major," protested the Governor. "Julia, can't you induce ourgood friend to forbear?"

  "He knows I like to hear it," said Mrs. Ambler, turning from a discussionof her Christmas dinner with Mrs. Lightfoot.

  "Then you shall hear it, madam," declared the Major, "and I may as well sayat once that if the Governor hasn't told you about the reply he made toPlaintain Dudley when he asked him for his political influence, you haven'tthe kind of husband, ma'am, that Molly Lightfoot has got. Keep a secretfrom Molly! Why, I'd as soon try to keep a keg full of brandy fromfollowing an auger."

  "Auger, indeed!" exclaimed the little old lady, to whom the Major'sfacetiousness was the only serious thing about him. "Your secrets are likeapples, sir, that hang to every passer-by, until I store them away. Auger,indeed!"

  "No offence, my dear," was the Major's meek apology. "An auger is a veryuseful implement, eh, Governor; and it's Plaintain Dudley, after all, thatwe're concerned with. Do you remember Plaintain, Mrs. Ambler, a big ruddyfellow, with ruffled shirts? Oh, he prided himself on his shirts, didPlaintain!"

  "A very becoming weakness," said Mrs. Ambler, smiling at the Governor, whowas blushing above his tucks.

  "Becoming? Well, well, I dare say," admitted the Major. "Plaintain thoughtso, at any rate. Why, I can see him now, on the day he came to theGovernor, puffing out his front, and twirling his white silk handkerchief.'May I ask your opinion of me, sir?' he had the audacity to begin, and theGovernor! Bless my soul, ma'am, the Governor bowed his politest bow, andreplied with his pleasantest smile, 'My opinion of you, sir, is that wereyou as great a gentleman as you are a scoundrel, you would be a greatergentleman than my Lord Chesterfield.' Those were his words, ma'am, on myoath, those were his words!"

  "But he was a scoundrel!" exclaimed the Governor. "Why, he swindled women,Major. It was always a mystery to me how you tolerated him."

  "And a mystery to Mrs. Lightfoot," responded the Major, in a half whisper;"but as I tell her, sir, you mustn't judge a man by his company, or a'possum by his grin." Then he raised a well-filled glass and gave a toastthat brought even Mr. Bill upon his feet, "To Virginia, the home of bravemen and," he straightened himself, tossed back his hair, and bowed to theladies, "and of angels."

  The Governor raised his glass with a smile, "To the angels who take pityupon the men," he said.

  "That more angels may take pity upon men," added the rector, rising fromhis seat by the fireside, with a wink at the doctor.

  And the toast was drunk, standing, while the girls ran up the crooked stairto lay aside their wraps in a three-cornered bedroom.

  As Virginia threw off her pink cloak and twirled round in her flaringskirts, Betty gave a little gasp of admiration and stood holding thelighted candle, with its sprig of holly, above her head. The tall girlishfigure, in its flounces of organdy muslin, with the smooth parting ofbright brown hair and the dovelike eyes, had flowered suddenly into abeauty that took her breath away.

  "Why, you are a vision--a vision!" she cried delightedly.

  Virginia stopped short in her twirling and settled the illusion ruche overher slim white shoulders. "It's the first time I've dressed like this, youknow," she said, glancing at herself in the dim old mirror.

  "Ah, I'm not half so pretty," sighed Betty, hopelessly, "Is the rose inplace, do you think?" She had fastened a white rose in the thick coil onher neck, where it lay half hidden by her hair.

  "It looks just lovely," replied Virginia, heartily
. "Do you hear some onein the drive?" She went to the window, and looked out into the fallingsnow, her bare shoulders shrinking from the frosted pane. "What a long ridethe boys have had, and how cold they'll be. Why, the ground is quitecovered with snow." Betty, with the candle still in her hand, turned fromthe mirror, and gave a quick glance through the sloping window, to thenaked elms outside. "Ah, poor things, poor things!" she cried.

  "But they have their riding cloaks," said Virginia, in her placid voice.

  "Oh, I don't mean Dan and Champe and Big Abel," answered Betty, "I mean theelms, the poor naked elms that wear their clothes all summer, and arestripped bare for the cold. How I should like to warm you, you dearthings," she added, going to the window. Against the tossing branches herhair made a glow of colour, and her vivid face was warm with tenderness."And Jane Lightfoot rode away on a night like this!" she whispered after apause.

  "She wore a muslin dress and a coral necklace, you know," said Virginia, inthe same low tone, "and she had only a knitted shawl over her head when shemet Jack Montjoy at the end of the drive. He wrapped her in his cape, andthey rode like mad to the town--and she was laughing! Uncle Shadrach metthem in the road, and he says he heard her laughing in the wind. She musthave been very wicked, mustn't she, Betty?"

  But Betty was looking into the storm, and did not answer. "I wonder if hewere in the least like Dan," she murmured a moment later.

  "Well, he had black hair, and Dan has that," responded Virginia, lightly;"and he had a square chin, and Dan has that, too. Oh, every one says thatDan's the image of his father, except for the Lightfoot eyes. I'm glad hehas the Lightfoot eyes, anyway. Are you ready to go down?"

  Betty was ready, though her face had grown a little grave, and with a lastlook at the glass, they caught hands and went sedately down the windingstair.

  In the hall below they met Mrs. Lightfoot, who sent Virginia into thepanelled parlour, and bore Betty off to the kitchen to taste the sauce forthe plum pudding. "I can't do a thing on earth with Rhody," she remarkeduneasily, throwing a knitted scarf over her head as they went from the backporch along the covered way that led to the brick kitchen. "She insiststhat yours is the only palate in all the country she will permit to passjudgment upon her sauce. I made the Major try it, and he thinks it needs adash more of rum, but Rhody says she shan't be induced to change it untilshe has had your advice. Here, Rhody, open the door; I've brought youryoung lady."

  The door swung back with a jerk upon the big kitchen, where before theChristmas turkeys toasting on the spit, Aunt Rhody was striding to and frolike an Amazon in charcoal. From the beginning of the covered way they hadbeen guided by the tones of penetrant contempt, with which she lashed thecircle of house servants who had gathered to her assistance. "You des lemmealont now," was the advice she royally offered. "Ef you gwine ax me w'atyou'd better do, I des tell you right now, you'd better lemme alont.Ca'line, you teck yo' eyes off dat ar roas' pig, er I'll fling dis yerb'ilin' lard right spang on you. I ain' gwine hev none er my cookin'conjured fo' my ve'y face. Congo, you shet dat mouf er yourn, er I'll shethit wid er flat-iron, en den hit'll be shet ter stay."

  Then, as Mrs. Lightfoot and Betty came in, she broke off, and wiped herlarge black hands on her apron, before she waved with pride to the shelvesand tables bending beneath her various creations. "I'se done stuff dat arpig so full er chestnuts dat he's fitten ter bus'," she exclaimed proudly."Lawd, Lawd, hit's a pity he ain' 'live agin des ter tase hese'f!"

  "Poor little pig," said Betty, "he looks so small and pink, Aunt Rhody, Idon't see how you have the heart to roast him."

  "I'se done stuff 'im full," returned Aunt Rhody, in justification.

  "I hope he's well done, Rhody," briskly broke in Mrs. Lightfoot; "and besure to bake the hams until the juice runs through the bread crumbs. Iseverything ready for to-morrow?"

  "Des es ready es ef 'twuz fer Kingdom Come, Ole Miss, en dar ain' gwine beno better dinner on Jedgment Day nurr, I don' cyar who gwine cook hit. Youdes tase dis yer sass--dat's all I ax, you des tase dis yer sass."

  "You taste it, Betty," begged Mrs. Lightfoot, shrinking from theapproaching spoon; and Betty tasted and pronounced it excellent, "and therenever was an Ambler who wasn't a judge of 'sass," she added.

  Moved by the compliment, Aunt Rhody fell back and regarded the girl, withher arms akimbo. "I d'clar, her eyes do des shoot fire," she exclaimedadmiringly. "I dunno whar de beaux done hid deyse'ves dese days; hit's awonner dey ain' des a-busin' dey sides ter git yer. Marse Dan, now, whynthe come a-prancin' roun' dese yer parts?"

  Mrs. Lightfoot looked at Betty and saw her colour rise. "That will do,Rhody," she cautioned; "you will let the turkeys burn," but as they movedtoward the door, Betty herself paused and looked back.

  "I gave your Christmas gift to Uncle Cupid, Aunt Rhody," she said; "he putit under the joists in your cabin, so you mustn't look at it till morning."

  "Lawd, chile, I'se done got Christmas gifts afo' now," replied Aunt Rhody,ungratefully, "en I'se done got a pa'cel er no count ones, too. Folks deygive Christmas gifts same es de Lawd he give chillun--dey des han's outw'at dey's got on dey han's, wid no stiddyin' 'bout de tase. Sakes er live!Ef'n de Lawd hadn't hed a plum sight ter git rid er, he 'ouldn't er sontCa'line all dose driblets, fo' he'd done sont 'er a husban'."

  "Husban', huh!" exclaimed Ca'line, with a snort from the fireplace."Husban' yo'se'f! No mo' niggerisms fer me, ma'am!"

  "Hold your tongue, Ca'line," said Mrs. Lightfoot, sternly; "and, Rhody, youought to be ashamed of yourself to talk so before your Miss Betty."

  "Husban', huh!" repeated the indignant Ca'line, under her breath.

  "Hold your tongues, both of you," cried the old lady, as she lifted hersilk skirt in both hands and swept from the kitchen.

  When they reached the house again, they heard the Major's voice, on itshighest key, demanding: "Molly! Why, bless my soul, what's become ofMolly?" He was calling from the front steps, and the sound of tramping feetrang in the drive below. Against the whiteness of the storm Big Abel's faceshone in the light from the open door, and about him, as he held thehorses, Dan and Champe and a guest or two were dismounting upon the steps.

  As the old lady went forward, Champe rushed into the hall, and caught herin his arms.

  "On my word, you're so young I didn't know you," he cried gayly. "If youkeep this up, Aunt Molly, there'll be a second Lightfoot beauty yet. Yougrow prettier every day--I declare you do!"

  "Hold your tongue, you scamp," said the old lady, flushing with pleasure,"or there'll be a second Ananias as well. Here, Betty, come and wish thisbad boy a Merry Christmas."

  Betty looked round with a smile, but as she did so, her eyes went beyondChampe, and saw Dan standing in the doorway, his soft slouch hat in hishand, and a powdering of snow on his dark hair. He had grown bigger andolder in the last few months, and the Lightfoot eyes, with the Lightfoottwinkle in their pupils, gave an expression of careless humour to his pale,strongly moulded face. The same humour was in his voice even as he held hisgrandfather's hand.

  "By George, we're glad to get here," was his greeting. "Morson's beencursing our hospitality for the last three miles. Grandpa, this is myfriend Morson--Jack Morson, you've heard me speak of him; and this is BlandDiggs, you know of him, too."

  "Why, to be sure, to be sure," cried the Major, heartily, as he held outboth hands. "You're welcome, gentlemen, as welcome as Christmas--what morecan I say? But come in, come in to the fire. Cupid, the glasses!"

  "Ah, the ladies first," suggested Dan, lightly; "grace before meat, youknow. So here you are, grandma, cap and all. And Virginia;--ye gods!--isthis little Virginia?"

  His laughing eyes were on her as she stood, tall and lovely, beneath aChristmas garland, and with the laughter still in them, they blazed withapproval of her beauty. "Oh, but do you know, how did you do it?" hedemanded with his blithe confidence, as if it mattered very little how hiswords were met.

  "It wasn't any trouble, believe me," responded Virginia, blushing, "nothalf so
much trouble as you took to tie your neckerchief."

  Dan's hand went to his throat. "Then I may presume that it is mere naturalgenius," he exclaimed.

  "Genius, to grow tall?"

  "Well, yes, just that--to grow tall," then he caught sight of Betty, andheld out his hand again. "And you, little comrade, you haven't grown up tothe world, I see."

  Betty laughed and looked him over with the smile the Major loved. "Icontent myself with merely growing up to you," she returned.

  "Up to me? Why, you barely reach my shoulder."

  "Well, up to the greater part of you, at least."

  "Ah, up to my heart," said Dan, and Betty coloured beneath the twinkle inhis eyes.

  The colour was still in her face when the Major came out, with Mrs. Ambleron his arm, and led the way to supper.

  "All of us are hungry, and some of us have a day's ride behind us," heremarked, as, after the rector's grace, he stood waving the carving-knifeabove the roasted turkey. "I'd like to know how often during the last houryou've thought of this turkey, Mr. Morson?"

  "It has had a fair share of my thoughts, I'm forced to admit, Major,"responded Jack Morson, readily. He was a hearty, light-haired young fellow,with a girlish complexion and pale blue eyes, as round as marbles. "As faira share as the apple toddy has had of Diggs's, I'll be bound."

  "Apple toddy!" protested Diggs, turning his serious face, flushed from thelong ride, upon the Major. "I was too busy thinking we should never gethere; and we were lost once, weren't we, Beau?" he asked of Dan.

  "Well, I for one am safely housed for the night, doctor," declared therector, with an uneasy glance through the window, "and I trust that Mrs.Blake's reproach will melt before the snow does. But what's that aboutbeing lost, Dan?"

  "Oh, we got off the road," replied Dan; "but I gave Prince Rupert the reinand he brought us in. The sense that horse has got makes me fairly ashamedof going to college in his place; and I may as well warn you, Mr. Blake,that when I get ready to go to Heaven, I shan't seek your guidance atall--I'll merely nose Prince Rupert at the Bible and give him his head."

  "It's a comfort to know, at least, that you won't be trusting to your owndeserts, my boy," responded the rector, who dearly loved his joke, as hehelped himself to yellow pickle.

  "Let us hope that the straight and narrow way is a little clearer than thetavern road to-night," said Champe. "I'm afraid you'll have trouble gettingback, Governor."

  "Afraid!" took up the Major, before the Governor could reply. "Why, whereare your manners, my lad? It will be no ill wind that keeps them beneathour roof. We'll make room for you, ladies, never fear; the house willstretch itself to fit the welcome, eh, Molly?"

  Mrs. Lightfoot, looking a little anxious, put forward a hearty assent; butthe Governor laughed and threw back the Major's hospitality as easily as itwas proffered.

  "I know that your welcome's big enough to hold us, my dear Major," he said;"but Hosea's driving us, you see, and he could take us along the turnpikeblindfold. Why, he actually discovered in passing just before the stormthat somebody had dug up a sugar berry bush from the corner of your oldrail fence."

  "And we really must get back," insisted Mrs. Ambler, "we haven't even fixedthe servants' Christmas, and Betty has to fill the stockings for thechildren in the quarters."

  "Then if you will go, go you shall," cried the Major, as heartily as he hadpressed his invitation. "You shall get back, ma'am, if I have to go beforeyou with a shovel and clear the snow away. So just a bit more of this roastpig, just a bit, Governor. My dear Miss Lydia, I beg you to try that spicedbeef--and you, Mr. Bill?--Cupid, Mr. Bill will have a piece of roast pig."

  By the time the Tokay was opened, the Major had grown very jolly, and hebegan to exchange jokes with the Governor and the rector. Mr. Bill and thedoctor, neither of whom could have told a story for his life, listened witha kind of heavy gravity; and the young men, as they rattled off a collegetale or two, kept their eyes on Betty and Virginia.

  Betty, leaning back in her high mahogany chair, and now and then putting ina word with the bright effusion which belonged to her, gave ear half to theMajor's anecdotes, and half to a jest of Jack Morson's. Before her brancheda silver candelabrum, and beyond it, with the light in his face, Dan wassitting. She watched him with a frank curiosity from eyes, where the smile,with which she had answered the Major, still lingered in a gleam ofmerriment. There was a puzzled wonder in her mind that Dan--the Dan of herchildhood--should have become for her, of a sudden, but a strong,black-haired stranger from whom she shrank with a swift timidity. Shelooked at Champe's high blue-veined forehead and curling brown hair; he wasstill the big boy she had played with; but when she went back to Dan, thewonder returned with a kind of irritation, and she felt that she shouldlike to shake him and have it out between them as she used to do before hewent away. What was the meaning of it? Where the difference? As he satacross from her, with his head thrown back and his eyes dark with laughter,her look questioned him half humorously, half in alarm. From his broad browto his strong hand, playing idly with a little heap of bread crumbs, sheknew that she was conscious of his presence--with a consciousness that hadquickened into a living thing.

  To Dan, himself, her gaze brought but the knowledge that her smile was uponhim, and he met her question with lifted eyebrows and perplexed amusement.What he had once called "the Betty look" was in her face,--so kind a look,so earnest yet so humorous, with a sweet sane humour at her ownbewilderment, that it held his eyes an instant before they plunged back toVirginia--an instant only, but long enough for him to feel the thrill of animpulse which he did not understand. Dear little Betty, he thought,tenderly, and went back to her sister.

  The next moment he was telling himself that "the girl was a tearingbeauty." He liked that modest droop of her head and those bashful softeyes, as if, by George, as if she were really afraid of him. Or was itChampe or Jack Morson that she bent her bewitching glance upon? Well,Champe, or Morson, or himself, in a week they would all be over head andears in love with her, and let him win who might. It was mere folly, ofcourse, to break one's heart over a girl, and there was no chance of thatso long as he had his horses and the bull pups to fall back upon; but shewas deucedly pretty, and if he ever came to the old house to live it wouldbe rather jolly to have her about. He would be twenty-one by this time nextyear, and a man of twenty-one was old enough to settle down a bit. In themeantime he laughed and met Virginia's eye, and they both blushed andlooked away quickly.

  But when they left the dining room an hour later, it was not Virginia thatDan sought. He had learned the duties of hospitality in the Major's school,and so he sat down beside Miss Lydia and asked her about her window garden,while Jack Morson made desperate love to his beautiful neighbour. Once,indeed, he drew Betty aside for an instant, but it was only to whisper:"Look here, you'll be real nice to Diggs, won't you? He's bashful, youknow, and besides he's awfully poor, and works like the devil. You make himenjoy his holidays, and I--well, yes, I'll let that fox get away next week,I declare I will."

  "All right," agreed Betty, "it's a bargain. Mr. Diggs shall have a merryChristmas, and the fox shall have his life. You'll keep faith with me?"

  "Sworn," said Dan, and he went back to Miss Lydia, while Betty danced areel with young Diggs, who fell in love with her before he was an hourolder. The terms cost him his heart, perhaps, but there was a life atstake, and Betty, who had not a touch of the coquette in her nature, wouldhave flirted open-eyed with the rector could she have saved a robin fromthe shot. As for Diggs, he might have been a family portrait or a Christmasgarland for all the sentiment she gave him.

  When she went upstairs some hours later to put on her wraps, she hadforgotten, indeed, that Diggs or his emotion was in existence. She tied onher blue hood with the swan's-down, and noticed, as she did so, that thewhite rose was gone from her hair. "I hope I lost it after supper," shethought rather wistfully, for it was becoming; and then she slipped intoher long cloak and started down again. It was not until she reached
thebend in the staircase, where the tall clock stood, that she looked over thebalustrade and saw Dan in the hall below with the white rose in his hand.

  She had come so softly that he had not heard her step. The light from thecandelabra was full upon him, and she saw the half-tender, half-quizzicallook in his face. For an instant he held the white rose beneath his eyes,then he carefully folded it in his handkerchief and hid it in the pocket ofhis coat. As he did so, he gave a queer little laugh and went quickly backinto the panelled parlour, while Betty glowed like a flower in the darkenedbend of the staircase.

  When they called her and she came down the bright colour was still in herface, and her eyes were shining happily under the swan's-down border of herhood. "This little lady isn't afraid of the cold," said the Major, as hepinched her cheeks. "Why, she's as warm as a toast, and, bless my soul, ifI were thirty years younger, I'd ride twenty miles tonight to catch aglimpse of her in that bonny blue hood. Ah, in my day, men were men, sir."

  Dan, who had come back from escorting Miss Lydia to the carriage, laughedand held out his arms.

  "Let me carry you, Betty; I'll show grandpa that there's still a manalive."

  "No, sir, no," said Betty, as she stood on tiptoe and held her cheek to theMajor. "You haven't a chance when your grandfather's by. There, I'll letyou carry the sleeping draught for Aunt Pussy; but my flounces, no, never!"and she ran past him and slipped into the carriage beside Mrs. Ambler andMiss Lydia.

  In a moment Virginia came out under an umbrella that was held by JackMorson, and the carriage rolled slowly along the drive, while the young menstood, bareheaded, in the falling snow.

  "Keep a brave heart, Morson," said Champe, with a laugh, as he ran backinto the house, where the Major waited to bar the door, "remember, you'veknown her but three hours, and stand it like a man. Well I'm off to bed,"and he lighted his candle and, with a gay "good night," went whistling upthe stair.

  In Dan's bedroom, where he had crowded for the holidays, he found hiscousin, upon the hearth-rug, looking abstractedly into the flames.

  As Champe entered he turned, with the poker in his hand, and spoke out ofthe fulness of his heart:--

  "She's a beauty, I declare she is."

  Champe broke short his whistling, and threw off his coat.

  "Well, I dare say she was fifty years ago," he rejoined gravely.

  "Oh, don't be an utter ass; you know I mean Virginia."

  "My dear boy, I had supposed Miss Lydia to be the object of yourattentions. You mustn't be a Don Juan, you know, you really mustn't. Sparethe sex, I entreat."

  Dan aimed a blow at him with a boot that was lying on the rug. "Shut up,won't you," he growled.

  "Well, Virginia is a beauty," was Champe's amiable response. "Jack Morsonswears Aunt Emmeline's picture can't touch her. He's writing to his fathernow, I don't doubt, to say he can't live without her. Go down, and he'llread you the letter."

  Dan's face grew black. "I'll thank him to mind his own business," hegrumbled.

  "Oh, he thinks he's doing it."

  "Well, his business isn't either of the Ambler girls, and I'll have him toknow it. What right has he got, I'd like to know, to come up here and fallin love with our neighbours."

  "Oh, Beau, Beau! Why, it was only last week you ran him away from BattHorsford's daughter. Are you going in for a general championship?"

  "The devil! Sally Horsford's a handsome girl, and a good girl, too; andI'll fight any man who says she isn't. By George, a woman's a woman, if sheis a stableman's daughter!"

  "Bravo!" cried Champe, with a whistle, "there spoke the Lightfoot."

  "She's a good girl," repeated Dan, furiously, as he flung the other boot athis cousin. Champe caught the boot, and carefully set it beside the door."Well, she's welcome to be, as far as I'm concerned," he replied calmly."Turn not your speaking eye upon me. I harbour no dark intent, SirGalahad."

  "Damn Sir Galahad!" said Dan, and blew out the light.