“I know you don’t, my dear; I know you don’t. And I haven’t time to tell you.” He had drawn his big silver watch from his vest and glanced at it apprehensively. “I promised to be at my office an hour ago. I really must hurry back. Good-bye, my dear.” “Good-bye,” Holly had answered. “But I think you’re a most provoking, horrid old Uncle Major.” But if the Major had feared mutiny on the part of Holly he might have spared himself the uneasiness. Holly had heard of the impending event from Aunt India at the dinner table with relish. Of course it was disgusting to learn that Waynewood was owned by a Northerner, but doubtless that was an injustice of Fate which would be remedied in good time. The exciting thing was that they were to have a visitor, a stranger, someone from that fearsomely interesting and, if reports were to be credited, delightfully wicked place called New York; someone who could talk to her of other matters than the prospects of securing the new railroad. “Auntie, is he married?” she had asked, suddenly. “My dear Holly, what has that to do with it?” “Well, you see,” Holly had responded, demurely, “I’m not married myself, and when you put two people together who are not married, why, something may happen.” “Holly!” protested Miss India, in horror. “Oh, I was only in fun,” said Holly, with a laugh. “Do you reckon, Auntie dear, that I’d marry a Northerner?” “I should certainly trust not,” replied Miss India, severely. “Not if he had millions and millions of money and whole bushels of diamonds,” answered Holly, cheerfully. “But is he married, Auntie?” “I’m sure I can’t say. The Major believes him to be a man of middle age, possibly fifty years old, and so it is quite likely that he has a wife.” “And he is not bringing her with him?” “He said nothing of it in his letter, my dear.” “Then I think she’s a very funny kind of a wife,” replied Holly, with conviction. “If he is an invalid, I don’t see why she lets him come away down here all alone. I wouldn’t if I were she. I’d be afraid.” “I don’t reckon he’s as much of an invalid as all that.” “Oh, I wasn’t thinking about his health then,” answered Holly. “I’d be afraid he’d meet someone he liked better than me and I wouldn’t see him again.” “Holly, where do you get such deplorable notions?” asked her Aunt severely. “It must be the books you read. You read altogether too much. At your age, my dear, I assure you I――――” “I shall be eighteen in just twelve days,” interrupted Holly. “And eighteen is grown-up. Besides, you know very well that wives do lose their husbands sometimes. There was Cousin Maybird Fairleigh――――” “I decline to discuss such vulgar subjects,” said Miss India, decisively. “Under the circumstances I think it just as well to forget the relationship, which is of the very slightest, my dear.”