"I want you to. But you'll probably marry another girl."

"Never!"

"And I know you'll be her loyal knight, her devoted slave. It's a way
our Southern boys have. And it's beautiful."

Stuart studied the finely chiseled face with a new reverence.

"Miss Mary, you've let me down so gently. I don't feel hurt at all."

A sweet silence fell between them. A breeze blew the ringlets of the
girl's hair across the pink of her cheek. A breeze from the garden laden
with the mingled perfume of roses. A flock of wild ducks swung across
the lawn high in the clear sky and dipped toward the river. Across the
fields came a song of slaves at work in the cornfield, harvesting the
first crop of peas planted between the rows.

Stuart caught her hand, pressed it tenderly and kissed it.

"You're an angel, Miss Mary. And I'm going to worship you, if you won't
let me love you."

The girl returned his earnest look with a smile and slowly answered:

"All right, Beauty Stuart, we'll see--"



CHAPTER IV