my horse and rub him well, or you'll get rubbed down yourself."

The openings under the eaves in Aun' Jinkey's cabin were so many and
large that Scoville had fairly good opportunities for observing what
was going on in the immediate vicinity. In witnessing the meeting
between Whately and Miss Lou he was conscious of a peculiar
satisfaction when noting that her manner confirmed her words. The
dashing cousin evidently was not in favor. "Well," thought the
scout, with a decisive little nod toward him, "were I a young
Southerner, you'd have a rival that would put you to your best
speed. What a delicious little drawl she has in speaking, and how
charmingly her consonants shade off into vowels! I would be more
readily taken for a Southerner than she, if I did not speak. How
blue her eyes are! and her fluffy hair seemed a golden halo when the
sunshine touched it through the trees. And then how unsophisticated
her face and expression! She is a lady from instinct and breeding,
and yet she is but a sweet-faced child. Well! well! it was an odd
chance to be pitched to the feet of a girl like that. Very possibly
I'd be there again of my own free will should I see her often
enough."

If Scoville were a rival now he certainly would have to take a wild
pace to keep up with Mad Whately in his wooing. His eyes were full
of resolute fire as he walked beside his cousin, and her quick
intuition took speedy alarm at his expression. "Well, sweet coz," he
said, "the Yanks have very prudently dusted back to the region from
which they came. My mother will give herself the pleasure of a visit
at The Oaks this afternoon. Can you guess her object in coming?"

"Why, as you say, to give herself the pleasure of a visit."