It was Ann's relieved voice that answered. "Oh--is it?... I thought it was some one else," and she sat down again. Ann had the porch to herself that evening, for Sue and Coats had gone to a neighbor's, and, perhaps because she had been thinking absorbedly of Garvin, she had been startled into wondering if the rider could be he. Baird had let his horse bring him by the shortest way, for he had had about enough of his thoughts, and was tired of the saddle. When seated in his room, in business fashion, he would decide just what course to take. It occurred to him now that he would think the better for a respite. Looking at Ann would be a relief, like laying down a treatise and taking up a novel. He had come nearer. "Sitting all alone, Miss Ann?" he asked. "Yes.... Father and Aunt Sue have gone to make a visit." Baird dismounted and came to her. "Just sitting and thinking? I've been riding and thinking, and I'm tired of it. May I stop for a while?" "If you like," Ann said indifferently. "I reckon father'll come along before long--they only went to a neighbor's." Then, because her father had decreed that Baird should be treated hospitably, she added, "Won't you wait for him?" "A few minutes." Baird seated himself on the top step, at Ann's feet. "What a night!" "The chair'd be more comfortable," Ann suggested politely. "I'd rather sit here, thank you.... May I have the cushion, though?" He took it from the chair, and sat back against the pillar of the porch, his legs stretched comfortably. He could see Ann's face quite distinctly now, all except her eyes,--they were shadowed pools in a white setting; she was black and white, more marked contrasts than in daylight, though not so clearly outlined. "I've just been to Westmore," Baird said, "and when we struck the County Road that horse of mine turned this way, instead of going on by the Mine Banks. I was thinking too hard to notice until he'd gone some distance, so I let him have his way. They're cute beasts--when they're headed for their stables they're as good as a man at calculating distance." "Did you get him here?" Ann asked. "Yes, I bought him off Garvin Westmore." "Almost every horse about here would choose this way through to the Post-Road because they're used to it. One reason the Mine Banks Road is so dreadful is because everybody used to come this shorter way. I used to count the horses that came through in a day--when I was little." "You've always lived here, then, Miss Ann?" "Always.... I reckon I'd be lonely for it--if I went away," she added soberly. "You wouldn't be going far away, would you?" "Oh, no--"