Of Dr. Green, Waltonville knew comparatively little. Mrs. Lister remembered his single year at the college, whither he had come, self-prepared, to enter the senior class. An unexpected legacy had given him the opportunity, passionately desired and as passionately despaired of, of studying medicine. He was older than the other students, a tall, dark, quiet man who allowed himself no diversions, who belonged to no fraternities, and who cared nothing apparently for girls. His companions knew, however, that he was not always silent. He burst occasionally into fierce and eloquent harangues, condemning and scorning those who wasted their time in idleness or love-making. His successful efforts to educate himself gave him an air of authority. The students knew also that he went now and then, as many of them did, to see Margie Ginter, the daughter of the hotel-keeper, but they believed that he went merely to be amused by her bad grammar, and that for him her round figure, her childish mouth, and the touches of her pretty hand on arm or knee had no temptation. When the Ginters left, Margie sent back to him letters with misspelled addresses which the students did not believe he answered. After being entirely lost to the view of Waltonville, Green returned. He had become a physician, but the four years of preparation had lengthened to six, during which he had changed into a weary and disappointed man. He had come, he explained, to see old Dr. Percy, now retiring from his practice, and offering the good-will of his business for sale. He had hoped that Dr. Everman would recommend him and that others would remember him. When he heard that Dr. Everman had died, he expressed to Mrs. Lister so hearty an admiration for her imposing and learned father and so unfeigned a regret that he was gone, that he won at once her valuable support. It was not long before he ceased to look like a beaten man, his thin frame filled out, he walked briskly, and began to exhibit some of the scolding eloquence of his college days. In Waltonville class distinctions continued. The college people, the clergymen, Dr. Green, and the lawyers who attended a sleepy court in April and August, made up one class; all other white persons another. The servants were negroes who lived in low, neat cabins along a grassy lane which bounded the town on its eastern side. Waltonville had never been a slave-holding community, but some of the older negroes had been attached to the same family for several generations. 'Manda Gates, Mrs. Lister's cook, had served her mother, and Miss Thomasina Davis's 'Melia had held her in her arms the day she was born. There was neither strife nor envy between Waltonville's classes. Mrs. Lister respected Mr. Underwood, the storekeeper, but did not invite him to dinner, and Mrs. Underwood would have been greatly disturbed at the prospect of entertaining Mrs. Lister.