drove up the long, white, wide Logan Pike under the nodding trees and
the soft evening sun. Everything was peaceful--the blue sky, the waving
corn-fields, the magnolia, the songs of the homing birds. The air tasted
rich as with great breaths he drew it into his lungs. It gave him hope.
With this air to aid him he might successfully grapple with consumption.

Garrison was in the rear seat of the phaeton with Mrs. Calvert,
mechanically answering questions, giving chapters of his fictitious
life, while she regarded him steadily with her grave blue eyes. Mr.
Snark and the major were in the middle seat, and the eminent lawyer was
talking a veritable blue streak, occasionally flinging over his shoulder
a bolstering remark in answer to one of Mrs. Calvert's questions, as his
quick ear detected a preoccupation in Garrison's tones, and he sensed
that there might be a sudden collapse to their rising fortunes. He was
in a very good humor, for, besides the ten thousand, and the bonus he
would receive from Garrison on the major's death, he had accepted an
invitation to stay the week end at Calvert House.

Garrison's inattention was suddenly swept away by the clatter of hoofs
audible above the noise contributed by the bays. A horse, which Garrison
instinctively, and to his own surprise, judged to be a two-year-old
filly, was approaching at a hard gallop down the broad pike. Her rider
was a young girl, hatless, who now let loose a boyish shout and waved a
gauntleted hand. Mrs. Calvert, smilingly, returned the hail.

"A neighbor and a lifelong friend of ours," she said, turning to
Garrison. "I want you to be very good friends, you and Sue. She is a
very lovely girl, and I know you will like her. I want you to. She has
been expecting your coming. I am sure she is anxious to see what you
look like."