But, long before the edibles were consumed, every vestige of a tear had disappeared from Mell's eyes, and she was talking back to this pattern of a gentleman, as few girls of her age knew so well how to do. The blood rushed back to her pallid cheeks, witchery to her tongue, magic to her glance. "Don't be offended," she remarked to him, with enchanting candor, after they had become the best of friends; "but I did not hear your name this morning, and I have not the slightest idea who you are." "Have you the slightest desire to know?" "Indeed I have! You can't imagine--the very greatest desire!" "Then let me refresh your memory somewhat. Do you recall a pug-nosed, freckle-faced, bull-headed youngster, who used to pommel Jim Green into blue jelly, every time he wanted to lift you over the swollen creek or carry your school-bag, or--" "I do; I remember him well. But you--you are not Rube Rutland?" "Then I wish you'd tell me who I am! I've been thinking I was Rube Rutland for a good many years now--for I am older than I look." "And to think I did not know you!" exclaimed Mell. "And to think I did not know _you!_" exclaimed Rube. "That's what gets me! I was asking everybody and in all directions who that stunning girl was, with--" "Well," inquired Mell, laughing, "with _what?_ I'd like to know what is stunning about me." "With the sweetest face I ever looked into." This reply caused Mell's eyes, intently fixed upon the speaker, to drop with rare grace to meet the maiden's blush upon her cheek. A perfectly natural action, it was for that reason and others, a very effective one. "When I found out who you were," pursued Rube, studying the face he had praised, seeing it glorified by his praises, "I fairly froze to Miss Josey, wanting so much to renew our acquaintance, and when you had no word of welcome for an old friend, and gave me the cold shoulder with such a vengeance, I was cut all to pieces over it. Fact! I couldn't enjoy fishing, and I feel bad yet!" "You might have known I did not recognize you," said Mell, lifting her eyes. "I cannot tell you how glad I am, Mr. Rutland." "_Mr. Rutland!_ It used to Rube." "And shall be Rube again, if you so desire! Rube, I am just delighted that you've come back home!" CHAPTER IV. EVEN. So far, she had dallied innocently enough with her old playfellow; neither seeking to please nor deceive, spreading no nets of enchantment, nicely baited, to entrap the fancy of this agreeable young man (rich too), who was as frank in nature and as transparent in purpose, as physically muscular and daring. At three o'clock, Miss Josey came to sound the horn for the races, and the crowd came surging back. Old and young, big and little, the cream of the county and its yeomanry, a congregation of the mass, a segregation of the cliques, mounting high into the hundreds. The order of the Grange was then at the zenith of its fame and power.