Both received these little presents with grateful smiles and promised to use them for her sake. And both threw old shoes after the chaise as it passed through the gate and turned to the left. “Why, my girl, you have half stripped your neck and hands for them darkies. You’ll look a perfect dowdy when you get to the commodore’s,” said John when they were out of hearing of the gate-keepers. “Oh, no, father dear. See, my shawl will cover all deficiencies until I reach my journey’s end, and then I can get new cuffs and collar from my trunk,” smilingly replied Em., as she drew her shepherd’s plaid wrap closer around her shoulders. Their road ran southward between the mossy gray stone wall of the park on the left and the richly-colored autumn woods on the right. Overhead was the most glorious October sky; underneath a road so thickly strewn with fallen leaves that the horse’s hoofs and the carriage wheels went softly and silently on. Passing the southeast angle of the park wall the road continued through the forest, but began gradually to ascend the wooded mountain range, half way up which, on a natural plateau, was situated the old house. The way was very lonely. Sometimes indeed a fox squatted on the road before them, startled by their approach, would spring up, scamper off and disappear in the forest. Sometimes a hawk, perched on some bending bough above them, frightened by their appearance, would take wing with a scream and be lost in the clouds afar. But such were the only signs of life that met them. No human being appeared on this almost totally abandoned road. It wound up and up the wooded precipice until all of a sudden it came out of the woods and on to the back of the old house—a long, low building of gray stone, without any pretensions to architectural beauty, but with a look of spacious, homely comfort that was very attractive. Entering by a side gate and driving over a stony road, they came around to the front of the building, which stood within a yard bounded by a stone wall upon the very edge of the precipice. A short flight of broad, low stone steps led up to the flagged piazza and thence to the front door of solid oak, adorned with a huge iron knocker. As there was no one in sight, John Palmer got off his seat, fastened his horse and helped Em. to alight. Then both went up the steps, and John knocked loudly at the door. It was opened by an old negro man, who stood silently waiting the pleasure of the visitors. “Is your mistress in?” inquired John. “Yes, sar.” “Then tell her that the young person she expected this morning has arrived.” “Yes, sar,” said the old negro, and then bethinking himself of proper civility, he added: “You may walk in here and take a seat in de hall, if you please.”