The scene of this movement was that large house and grounds, the "Usher home place," just beyond the ruined bridge where Cornelius had once seen ghosts. A pretty sight it was to come out on the veranda, as John did, and see the double line of parti-colored transparencies meandering through the dark grove to the gate and the lane beyond. Shotwell met him. "Hello, March, looking for Fair? He's just passed through that inside door with Miss Garnet." "I know it--I'm not looking for anyone--in particular." Out here on the veranda it was too cool for ladies; John heard only male voices and saw only the red ends of cigars; so, although he was not--of course he wasn't!--looking for anyone--in particular--he went back into the crowded house and buzzing rooms. "Hunt'n' faw yo' maw, John?" asked Deacon Sexton as he leaned on his old friend Mattox; "she's----" "Why, I'm not hunting for anybody," laughed March; "do I look like I was?" He turned away toward a group that stood and sat about Parson Tombs. "I never suspicioned a thing," the elated pastor was saying for the third or fourth time. "I never suspicioned the first thing till Motheh Tombs and I got into ow gate comin' home fum the Graveses! All of a sudden there we _ware_ under a perfec' demonstration o' pine an' ceda' boughs an' wreaths an' arborvitae faschoons! Evm then I never suspicioned but what that was all until Miss Fannie an' Miss Barb come in an' begin banterin' not only Motheh Tombs but _me_, if you'll believe it, to lie down an' rest a while befo' we came roun' here to suppeh! Still I 'llowed to myself, s'I, it's jest a few old frien's they've gotten togetheh. But when I see the grove all lightened up with those Chinee lanterns, I laughed, an' s'I to motheh, s'I, 'I don't know what it is, but whatev' it is, it's the biggest thing of its kind we've eveh treed in the fifty years that's brought us to this golden hour!' An' with that po' motheh, she just had to let go all ho-holts; heh--heh cup run oveh. "You wouldn't think so now, to see heh sett'n' oveh there smilin' like a basket o' chips, an' that little baag o' gold dollahs asleep in heh lap, would you? But that smile ain't change' the least iota these fifty years. What a sweet an' happy thought it was o' John March, tellin' the girls to put the amount in fifty pieces, one for each year. But he's always been that original. Worthy son of a worthy motheh! Why, here he is! Howdy, John? I'm so proud to see Sisteh March here to-night; she told me at dinneh that she 'llowed to go back to Widewood this evenin'." "I see in the papeh she 'llowed to go this mawnin'," said Clay Mattox. John showed apologetic amusement. "That's my fault, I reckon, I understood mother to say she couldn't stay this evening." A finger was laid on his shoulder. It was Shotwell again. "John, Miss Fannie Halliday wants Jeff-Jack. Do you know where he is?" "No! Where is Miss Fannie?"