"Good--!" Their questioner's hand flew to cover her mouth, and at the comic look of dismay which appeared on her face, Ricky's laugh sounded. A moment later the stranger joined in her mirth. "And here I thought that I was being oh so helpful to an absent landlord," she chuckled. "And this brother of yours is _my_ landlord!" "How--? Why, we didn't know that." "I've rented your old overseer's house and am using it for my studio. By the way, introductions are in order, I believe. I am Charity Biglow, from Boston as you might guess. Only beans and the Bunker Hill Monument are more Boston than the Biglows." "I'm Richanda Ralestone and this is my brother Valerius." Miss Biglow grinned cheerfully at Val. "That won't do, you know; too romantic by far. I once read a sword-and-cloak romance in which the hero answered to the name of Valerius." "I haven't a cloak nor a sword and my friends generally call me Val, so I hope I'm acceptable," he grinned back at her. "Indeed you are--both of you. And what are you doing now?" "Trying to find a building known as the carriage house. I'm beginning to believe that its existence is wholly mythical," Val replied. "It's over there, simply yards from the direction in which you're heading. But suppose you come and visit me instead. Really, as part landlords, you should be looking into the condition of your rentable property." She turned briskly to the left down the lane on which were located the slave cabins and guided the Ralestones along a brick-paved path into a clearing where stood a small house of typical plantation style. The lower story was of stone with steep steps leading to a balcony which ran completely around the second floor of the house. As they reached the balcony she pulled off her hat and threw it in the general direction of a cane settee. Without that wreck of a hat, with the curls of her long bob flowing free, she looked years younger. "Make yourselves thoroughly at home. After all, this is your house, you know." "But we didn't," protested Ricky. "Mr. LeFleur didn't tell us a thing about you." "Perhaps he didn't know." Charity Biglow was pinning back her curls. "I rented from Harrison." "Like the bathroom," Val murmured and looked up to find them staring at him. "Oh, I just meant that you were another improvement that he had installed," he stammered. Miss Biglow nodded in a satisfied sort of way. "Spoken like a true southern gentleman, though I don't think in the old days that bathrooms would have crept into a compliment paid to a lady. Now I did have some lemonade--if you will excuse me," and she was gone into the house. Ricky smiled. "I like our tenant," she said softly.