It was one fairly warm evening, three days after Jane had left for Atlanta. Virginia had given Sam his supper, and he had strolled off down to the store with his pipe. Then, with a light shawl over her shoulders, the girl sat in the bright moonlight on the porch. She had not been there long when she saw a man on a horse in the road reining in at the gate. Even before he dismounted she had recognized him. It was Luke King. Hardly knowing why she did so, she sprang up and was on the point of disappearing in the house, when, in a calm voice, he called out to her: "Wait, Virginia! Don’t run. I have a message for you." "For me?" she faltered, and with unaccountable misgivings she stood still. Throwing the bridle-rein over the gate-post, he entered the yard and came towards her, his big felt-hat held easily in his hand, his fine head showing to wonderful advantage in the moonlight. "You started to run," he laughed. "You needn’t deny it. I saw you, and you knew who it was, too. Just think of my little friend dodging whenever she sees me. Well, I can’t help that. It must be natural. You were always timid with me, Virginia." "Won’t you come in and have a chair?" she returned. "Mother has gone away to Atlanta, and there is no one at home but my uncle and me." "I knew she was down there," King said, feasting his hungry and yet gentle and all-seeing eyes on her. "That’s what I stopped to speak to you about. She sent you a message." "Oh, you saw her, then!" Virginia said, more at ease. "Yes, I happened to be at the big Union car-shed when her train came in, and saw her in the crowd. The poor woman didn’t know which way to turn, and I really believe she was afraid she’d get lost or stolen, or something as bad. When she saw me she gave a glad scream and fairly tumbled into my arms. She told me where she wanted to go, and I got a cab and saw her safe to the doctor’s." "Oh, that was very good of you!" Virginia said. "I’m so glad you met her." "She was in splendid spirits, too, when I last saw her," King went on. "I dropped in there this morning before I left, so that I could bring you the latest news. She was very jolly, laughing and joking about everything. The doctor had not had time to make an examination, but he has a way of causing his patients to look on the bright side. He told her she had nothing really serious to fear, and it took a big load off her mind." They were now in the house, and Virginia had lighted a candle and he had taken a seat near the open door. "Doctors have a way of pretending to be cheerful, even before very serious operations, haven’t they?" she asked, as she sat down not far from him. She saw him hesitate, as if in consideration of her feelings, and then he said, "Yes, I believe that, too, Virginia; still, he is a wonderful man, and if any one can do your mother good he can." "If _anybody_ can?—yes," she sighed.