“No. She appeared to be in rather a pensive mood,” said Christine. “I often wonder what she thinks about as she sits there by the hour with her snuff stick.” “Such an unpleasant habit,” remarked Mrs. Van Dorn. “I never knew any one addicted to it till I came down here, and as for the way men use tobacco it is simply beyond expression. Henry was actually forced to build a man’s room and a separate gallery, for we could not give up this one; it would not have been decent at the end of a week. How do you stand it?” “We don’t have much trouble,” said Christine. “The men generally stay out of doors in summer and in winter they take themselves to the man’s room, so only our particular acquaintances expect to be received in the gallery. Ah, there comes Ellen. I want to see her chickens.” And Christine joined Mrs. Wilkinson in the yard. The lot surrounding the house was penned off into small and large enclosures, shaded by trees; a vegetable garden was in the height of its glory, and in the chicken yard clucked and cackled so large a number of hens as spoke well for the family supply of eggs and poultry. “I can’t see why Blythe doesn’t come,” said Mrs. Van Dorn to Alison. “I am sure he has had time to go and come back.” “Perhaps he, too, stopped at the Haleys’,” said Alison. “Hannah Maria would not let him go by if she could help it.” “That is quite true.” So this was accepted as the excuse for Blythe’s absence, although supper was on the table and all were ready to sit down before the young man appeared with John. “I met Blythe just as he was coming away from our place,” said John, “and he persuaded me to ride back with him.” Blythe looked embarrassed and murmured something about its being too warm to ride very fast, but it was not till later in the evening that Alison discovered the cause of his tardy appearance. CHAPTER XIV WHY BLYTHE WAS LATE