Standing in the doorway was a young girl in a short riding habit, and a small hat of red felt that was carelessly pinned to her bright, tumbled hair. Her eyes were dark, and round like those of a child, and they danced from object to object as if eager to miss none of the good things that the world had to offer. Joy of life and radiant youth seemed to flash from her face and figure. “What's the matter, Squire Daddy?” she asked, pausing on the threshold. “Mad again?” The Colonel's head twitched in her direction, but he held it stiff. “Well, please don't kill Uncle Jimpson 'til he finds my gloves. I don't know where I took them off.” “Yas 'm, Miss Lady,” Jimpson welcomed the diversion. “I'll find 'em jes as soon as I git yer Paw his ice.” “Oh, Daddy'll wait, won't you, Dad? I'm in a hurry.” For a moment Jimpson and the Colonel eyed each other, then the Colonel's gaze shifted. “I'll git de ice fer you on my way back,” Jimpson whispered reassuringly. “I spec' dat chile _is_ in a hurry.” The young lady in question gave no appearance of haste as she perched herself on the arm of her father's chair, and presented a boot-lace for him to tie. “Going fishing, Dad?” she asked. “Yes,” said the Colonel, struggling to make a two-loop bow-knot. “Noah Wicker and I are going down below the mill dam. Want to come along?” “I can't. I'm going riding.” “That's good. Who with?” “With Don Morley.” The smile that had returned to the Colonel's face during this conversation contracted suddenly, leaving his mouth a round little button of disapprobation. “What in thunder is he doing up here anyhow; why don't he go on back to town where he belongs?” “Don?” Miss Lady pretended to effect a part in the few straggling hairs that adorned his forehead. “Why, he's staying over to the Wickers' while he looks around for a farm. Here's a gray hair, Daddy! I'd pull it out only there are two more on that other side now than there are on this.” “Buying a farm, is he?” The Colonel waxed a deeper mahogany. “Well, this place is not for sale. I should think he could find something better to do with his time than hanging around here. For two weeks I haven't been able to sit on this porch for five minutes without having him under my feet! What's the sense of his coming so often?” Miss Lady caught him by the ears, and turned his irate face up to her own. “He comes to see me!” she announced, emphasizing each word with a nod. “He likes horses and dogs and me, and I like horses and dogs and him. But I like you, too, Daddy.” The Colonel refused to be beguiled by such blandishments. “I'll speak to him when he comes. He needn't think just because he is a city fellow, he can take a daughter of mine racing all over the country on Sunday afternoon!” “Why, Dad, that's absurd! Don't you take me yourself almost every Sunday? And don't I go with Noah, and the Brooks boys whenever I like?” “Well, you can't go to-day.”