after him more than half-yearningly.

So intent, indeed, was the latter in his gaze upon the receding
figure that he did not hear the swift rush of light feet on the
gallery, nor turn until Miss Lady stood before him. The girl swept
him a deep courtesy, spreading out the skirt of her biscuit-colored
gown in mocking deference of posture.

"Please, Colonel Cal," said she, "since he can't hear the dinner
bell, would he be good enough to tell whether or not he will come in
and eat? Everything is growing cold; and I made the biscuits."

Calvin Blount put out his hand, and a softer shade came upon his
face. "Oh, it's you, Miss Lady, is it?" said he. "Yes, I'm back home
again. And you made the biscuits, eh?"

"You are back home," said Miss Lady, "all but your mind. I called to
you several times. Who is that gentleman you are staring at? Why
doesn't he come in and eat with us?"

Colonel Blount turned slowly as Miss Lady tugged at his arm. "Who is
he?" he replied half-musingly. "Who is he? You tell me. He refused to
eat in Calvin Blount's house; that's why he didn't come in, Miss
Lady. He says he's the cow coroner on the Y. V. road, but I want to
tell you, he's the finest fellow, and the nearest to a gentleman,
that ever struck this country. That's what he is. I'm mighty troubled
over his going away, Miss Lady, mighty troubled." And indeed his face
gave warrant to these words, as with slow footsteps and frowning
brow, he yielded to the pressure of the light hand on his arm, and
turned toward the gallery steps.