AS Mrs. Porter stepped down into the yard the whippoorwill call sounded again. “Huh!” she said to herself, exultingly, “I reckon I'll reach there soon enough to suit you, Nelson Floyd. You wanted to get her away from her mother's tongue, did you? Well, you'll find that I'm no fool, if I _am_ old.” As she emerged from the shade of the apple-trees into the little open in front of the grape-arbor, Nelson Floyd, the red, impatient flare of a cigar in his face, appeared in the door-way. “Thank God you didn't fail me!” he exclaimed, in accents of vast relief. “For a while I was actually afraid--” “Afraid that I wouldn't be on time!” Mrs. Porter broke in, with a metallic little laugh. “I always keep my engagements, Nelson Floyd--or, I beg your pardon, Cynthia says you don't call yourself by that name now.” “Great God, it's _you!_” he exclaimed, and his cigar fell at his feet. “Why, Mrs. Porter--” “Oh, we needn't stand here and take up time talking about whether it's going to rain or not,” she sneered. “The truth is, I'm due in bed. I've been asleep in my chair half a dozen times since supper. You see, I promised Cynthia that I'd keep this appointment for her, and she tumbled into bed, and is snoozing along at a great rate, while I am doing her work.” “You--you promised--I--I--don't understand,” Floyd managed to get out of the chaos of his brain. “Oh, I reckon you don't see it exactly _our_ way,” Mrs. Porter sneered. “And that's because of your high opinion of your own charm. There is nothing on earth that will lead a man from the road of fact as quick as vanity. You thought my girl would jump at your proposition, but, la me! she just dallied with you to get you away last Friday night. At least, that's what I think, for she brought the whole thing to me the next morning, even telling me how you abused me behind my back. She asked me how she'd better get out of it. Most girls plunge headlong into things of this kind without deliberation, but she's not that way. She generally looks ahead, and the truth is, if I may tell state secrets, she has a strong leaning towards Brother Hillhouse. He's a good man--a man that can be counted on--and a man with a respectable family behind him, and, while I'm not sure about it, I think she intends to accept him.” “Great God, Mrs. Porter, you don't mean that she--” “You see there! I knew you were incapable of seeing anything that don't tend to your own glory. You thought all along that my girl was crazy about you, but you didn't know her. She's no fool. She's got a long head on her shoulders.” “But didn't she--she send me any message?” Floyd asked, in a tone of abject bewilderment. “Oh yes, now I come to think of it, she did. She said for me to beg you never to bother her any more.” “She said that? Oh, Mrs. Porter, I--”