"It's Mary Flippin and her father. See if you can't overtake them,
Jefferson. I want you to see Fiddle Flippin, Randy."

"Who is Fiddle Flippin?"

"Mary's little girl. Mary is a war bride. She was in Petersburg teaching
school when the war broke out, and she married a man named Branch. Then
she came home--and she called the baby Fidelity."

"I hope he was a good husband."

"Nobody has seen him, he was ordered away at once. But she is very
proud of him. And the baby is a darling. Just beginning to walk and
talk."

"Stop a minute, Jefferson, while I speak to them."

Mr. Flippin pulled up his fat horse. He was black-haired, ruddy, and
wide of girth. "Well, well," he said, with a big laugh, "it is cert'n'y
good to see you."

Mary Flippin was slender and delicate and her eyes were blue. Her hair
was thick and dark. There was Scotch-Irish blood in the Flippins, and
Mary's charm was in that of duskiness of hair and blueness of eye. "Oh,
Randy Paine," she said, with her cheeks flaming, "when did you get
back?"

"Ten minutes ago. Mary, if you'll hand me that corking kid, I'll kiss
her."