don't know whether I quite liked to have him unbend so far as to throw
a biscuit back at Tony. He is too great a man for that, and I was
relieved when he took the Colonel's horse and started back to town,
because he said he had something to attend to. It is more comfortable
for me to have him on the pedestal I keep for him, than down in the
ordinary walks of life with me and the rest of my friends--fine and
unusual people as they all are. Also I am afraid I might betray in
some way my great affection and veneration for him if we got too
familiar over a pickle jar, and he might not like it. How do I know he
wants to be enthroned and "idolized" in my heart?

Yes, I was glad to see him go home early before I got so light-headed
with happiness as to squabble over pie with Pink and put a
lightning-bug into Tony's lemonade glass. Father went with him, and
how good it did seem to see them ride away together through the
moonlight down Providence Road to Byrdsville, which lay in the dim
distance with its lights making it my huge birthday cake, decorated
with all the lilacs and roses and redbud abloom in the Harpeth Valley.
Some people are so accustomed to happiness that they don't even notice
it. I'm glad I haven't had that much.

One of the nice things about Miss Priscilla and the Colonel is that
they go off and sit by themselves and entirely forget to ever say go
home, until we have all had our fill of fun; then they begin to hurry
at a terrible rate that gets up a pleasant excitement. They seem to
know just the minute when we might begin to get tired, and they never
let it come. Some people are geniuses about good times, and the
Colonel and Miss Priscilla are two of that kind.

The ride home was almost the best of all. The boys sang and gave