"’Scuse me, honey, fer waiting awn you myself, but do you reckon I could ’a’ got dat no ’count fool, Lily, to git up en wait awn ennybody at dis time in de mawnin’? Not ef she knowed huh soul gwine be saved by doin’ it. Dese yere chillen ob mine is too fine to wuk lake dere mammy does." "But how did you manage to wake up so early?" asked Carolina. "Lawd, honey, I’se done nussed sick chillen tell I sleeps wid one eye open from habit. En when I see what a pretty day it gwine turn out, en when I see dat en de fust five minutes you laid eyes awn him, you done cotched de beau what half de young ladies in Souf Calliny done set dere caps for, I says to myself, ’Ole ’ooman, ef you wants to see courtin’ as is courtin’, you jes’ hump doze ole rheumatiz laigs ob yours, en get dar ’fore dey suspicion it demselves!’ Law, Mis’ Calline, how you is blushing! Ump! ump!" "Here, Aunt Calla, take this for your trouble, and go and see if Mr. La Grange has come," cried Carolina. "Why, Mis’ Calline, dis yere will buy me a new bunnet! Thank you, _ma’am_. Yas’m, dah he is! I kin tell de way Mist’ Moultrie rides wid my eyes shut. He rides lake one ob dese yere centipedes!" Old Calla made it a point to see the riders mount. The sun was just coming into view, sending the mists rolling upwards in silvery clouds, when Carolina stepped out of the door. Her habit was of a bluish violet, so dark that it was almost black. It matched the colour of her eyes. Her hair caught the tinge of the sun and held it in its shining meshes. Moultrie La Grange was waiting for her at the foot of the steps. He held the mare Araby by the bridle, and leaned on the saddle of his own mare, Scintilla, shielding his eyes. "Good morning,--Moultrie." "Is that you, Miss Carolina? The sun, or something blinds me." Carolina had heard it all many times before. Why, then, this difference? She pretended to herself that she did not know, but she did know, and was happy in the knowing. He was so handsome! She gloried in his looks. She felt as she had felt when she stood before the Hermes of Praxiteles, and wondered, if such glorious beauty should ever come to life, how she could _bear_ it! Moultrie La Grange was not considered handsome by everybody. His beauty was too cold--too aloof--for the multitude to appreciate. But does the ordinary tourist go to Olympia? Carolina had rather dreaded the four miles to Enterprise, if their way should lie over the dusty highway of yesterday. But she was not surprised; in fact, it seemed in keeping with what she had expected of him when he struck off through the woods, and she found herself, not only on the most perfect animal she had ever ridden, but in an enchanted forest.