He did not allow himself to think often of Sydney. He was glad that he had had the strength to refrain from asking her to be his wife until he had something more substantial than his name to offer her. It relieved somewhat the present situation. Yet her avoidance of him he could construe only as contempt for a man who had played with her while bound by other ties. Sometimes he felt that he must explain to her how intangible were those bonds. Yet he was sufficiently conscious of their actual existence to feel that the difficulties of explanation were almost insurmountable. And Hilda, poor child, took his devotion entirely for granted. His thoughts were leading him in a circle, and it was a relief when Melissa appeared in the doorway. He sprang up to welcome her. "Come in, Mrs. Yare-brough. How do you do?" "Ah'm well, thank ye. How are you?" returned Melissa, in the polite formula of her kind. "Won't you have a cup of coffee?" "No, Ah thank you. How's Mrs. Baron?" "Mrs. Baron? Oh! She was very well the last time I was at Oakwood. She asks fr-requently for you and the baby." "Mrs. Baron's so sweet! Ah never 'lowed to like anybody's much's Miss Sydney, but Mrs. Baron's jus' splendid." With a woman's care-taking instinct, she began to gather together the dishes on the table and prepare them for washing. "No, let me," she said, in response to von Rittenheim's objection. "Jus' while Ah'm talkin'. Ah stopped by to tell ye that Ah'm goin' to have a party to-night, an' Ah'd be proud to have you-all come to hit." Her interest in him was so evident, and her desire to give him pleasure so real, that Friedrich responded, heartily,-- "Certainly, I shall go. It will give me delight. It is kind of you to ask me." Melissa turned away, and rattled the knives and forks in gratified embarrassment. "Hit's goin' to be to mother's 'cos her house is larger. You know where hit is?" "Yes, indeed. Is it a dance?" "Hit's a poke party, but there'll be dancin', too." "A poke party! What is that?" "Don't you-all know what a poke party is?" "Poke? That is what I do with my finger at the baby." Melissa laughed aloud. "You wait 'n see, then. Ah reckon hit'll be a surprise party fo' you as well as a poke party." It was clear that Melissa had imparted to her friends the Baron's guess as to the probable nature of a poke party, for he was greeted with broad smiles as he made his way through the crowd of men and boys about Mrs. Lance's door into the room where dancing was going on. Melissa came to him and proposed a seat beside Mrs. 'Gene Frady until the cotillon should be ended, but von Rittenheim preferred to go about the room as dexterously as he might in avoidance of the dancers, speaking to his acquaintances among the women and girls who lined its walls. There was space upon the floor for only two sets, and the lookers-on gossiped patiently, until such time as Alf Lance, the fiddler, should grow weary and let fall his bow.