Lettice looked at him with a twinkle in her eye. “You mean you would like me to take you out there. You can’t sail a boat.” “I can row.” “On this hot afternoon? No, sir.” “Am I never to see you alone for as much as half an hour?” “Why should you?” “Because I--Do you know what keeps me down here?” “Politics, I suppose,” returned Lettice, suavely. “I suppose you are waiting to hear what Mr. Kendall will report when he next comes from Washington, and if it is news to your liking, you will start home, and Rhoda--By the way, how is Rhoda?” “She is well. I left her with your brother on the porch.” “Jamie is a dear lad. So that is why you came over, because your devoirs to Miss Rhoda were interrupted by my brother?” “Now, Miss Lettice, you know my firmament contains but one ruling star, and that is--” “Not there, Lutie,” Lettice cried. “I’ll come and help you, or she’ll get away. Excuse me, Mr. Clinton, but I must help Lutie with that turkey-hen; she is so wild, and has a brood in the bushes. If she once gets off in the woods, there’ll be no catching her again,” and off she started. Then, after many flappings of her sunbonnet to shoo the turkey-hen, and many beatings about the blackberry bushes, the creature was headed off, and Lutie was bidden to call Anstice Ann to come and help to drive her up. Then Lettice returned to her visitor. “You were saying something about stars, weren’t you, or was it meteors? Are you versed in astronomy? What is our evening star just now?” “I know but one, and that is a lode-star which is both morning and evening star to me.” “Gracious! you’re like those children of Israel, aren’t you? Oh, no, I mean--What do I mean? Did you ever go to camp-meeting?” “No, I never had that experience.” “Then you must go; your education has been sadly neglected, for you don’t know about lots of the things that we do. We always go over to Wye Camp.” “Perhaps I shall not be here when it begins.” “Oh, shall you not? I thought you were to stay to learn to ride after the hounds.” “Learn to ride! Do you suppose I never mounted a horse?” “No, indeed; but you’ve never been fox-hunting. I expect you will enjoy it.” “If the fox is as elusive as--” “As what?” Lettice looked up saucily. The young man caught her hand. “You know who eludes me and defies me and makes miserable my days and nights, and makes me advance and retreat till I am driven to distraction.” “No, does she? What a wicked girl Rhoda is. I never dreamed she could be so cruel. Thank you, I do not need your hand to assist me to rise.” “You will not leave me yet? Just one moment more. I have not spoken to you alone for so long, and you are so good to give me this opportunity.” “I give it? What do you mean, sir?” Lettice’s blue eyes grew dark with disapproval. “You sent off your maid, you know,” he murmured deprecatingly. “That you might speak to me alone? You are mistaken, sir; it was all on account of the turkey-hen; I had forgotten your existence.”