"I see Virginia’s got a new hat," commented Mrs. Waycroft. "Her mother raked and scraped to get it; her credit’s none too good. I hear she’s in debt up to her eyes. Every stick of timber and animal down to her litter of pigs—even the farm tools—is under mortgage to money-lenders that won’t stand no foolishness when pay-day comes. I saw two of 'em, myself, looking over her crop the other day and shaking their heads at the sight of the puny corn and cotton this dry spell. But she’d have the hat for Virginia if it took the roof from over her head. Her very soul’s bound up in that girl. Looks like she thinks Virginia’s better clay than common folks. They say she won’t let her go with the Halcomb girls because their aunt had that talk about her." "She’s no better nor no worse, I reckon," said Ann, "than the general run of girls." "There goes Langdon Chester on his prancing horse," said Mrs. Waycroft. "Oh, my! that _was_ a bow! He took off his hat to Virginia and bent clean down to his horse’s mane. If she’d been a queen he couldn’t have been more gallant. For all the world, like his father used to be to high and low. I’ll bet that tickled Jane. I can see her rear herself back, even from here. I wonder if she’s fool enough to think, rascal as he is, that Langdon Chester would want to marry a girl like Virginia just for her good looks." "No, he’ll never marry her," Ann said, positively, and her face was hard, her eyes set in a queer stare at her neighbor. "He isn’t the marrying sort. If he ever marries, he’ll do it to feather his nest." The visitor rose to go, and Ann walked with her out to the gate. Mrs. Waycroft was wondering if she would, of her own accord, bring up the subject of their recent talk, but she did not. With her hand on the gate, she said, however, in a non-committal tone: "When did you say you’d be back?" "Thursday, at twelve o’clock, or thereabouts," was the ready reply. "Well, take good care of yourself," said Ann. "That will be a long, hot ride over a rough road there and back." Going into her kitchen, Ann, with her roughly shod foot, kicked some live embers on the hearth under the pot and kettle containing her dinner, bending to examine the boiling string-beans and hunch of salt pork.