and entrusted a message to the willing Jenny, and then went on into
the twilight in the direction of the lights of the distant town.

And as he walked along his mood was, to say the least, savage, and he
cut, with a long switch he had picked up, at some nodding little wind
bells that had begun to show their colors along the side of the road.
He was hungry and he was having his supper in detached visions. Now
Rose Mary was handing the Senator a plate of high-piled supper rolls,
each with a golden stream of butter cascading down the side, and as
her lovely bare arm held them across to the guest probably she was
helping Stonie's plate with her other hand to a spoonful of cream
gravy over his nicely browned chicken leg. On her side of the table
Miss Lavinia was pouring the rich cream over her bowl of steaming mush
and the materialized aroma from Uncle Tucker's cup of coffee that Rose
Mary had just poured him brought tears to Everett's eyes. Then came a
flash of Aunt Amandy helping herself under Rose Mary's urging to a
second crisp waffle, and the Senator was preparing to accept his
sixth, impelled by the same solicitous smile that had landed the
second on the little old lady's plate. Again Rose Mary was pouring the
Senator's second cup and stirring in the cream. If she had lifted the
spoon to her lips, as she always did with Uncle Tucker's and
sometimes forgot and did with his, Everett would have--And at this
point he turned the bend and ran smash into the dramatic scene of a
romance.

Seated by the side of the road was Louisa Helen Plunkett, and before
her stood young Bob Nickols, an agony of helplessness showing in every
line of his face and big loose-jointed figure, for Louisa Helen was
weeping into a handkerchief and one of her blue muslin sleeves. And it
was not a series of sentimental sobs and sighs or controlled and