As they passed by the fork again, both travellers looked curiously across at the great clump of trees rising out of the bushes and briars. The notes of a dove cooing in the soft light came from somewhere in the brake. They made out a gleam of white among the bushes, but neither of them spoke. Major Welch was recalling a night he had spent in that church-yard amid the dead and the dying. Ruth was thinking of the description Middleton had given of the handsome mansion and grounds of Dr. Cary, and was wondering if this Dr. Cary could be the same. CHAPTER XXIV THE TRAVELLERS ARE ENTERTAINED IN A FARM-HOUSE The sun had already set some little time and the dusk was falling when they came to a track turning off from the “main, plain road,” which they agreed must be that described to them as leading to Dr. Cary’s. They turned in, and after passing through a skirt of woods came out into a field, beyond which, at a little distance, they saw a light. They drove on; but as they mounted the hill from which the light had shone Ruth’s heart sank, for, as well as they could tell through the gathering dusk, there was no house there at all, or if there was, it was hidden by the trees around it. On reaching the crest, however, they saw the light again, which came from a small cottage at the far side of the orchard, that looked like a little farm-house. “Well, we’ve missed Dr. Cary’s after all,” said Major Welch. It was too late now, however, to retrace their steps; so Major Welch, with renewed objurgations at the stupidity of people who could not give a straight direction, determined to let Dr. Cary’s go, and ask accommodation there. Accordingly, they picked their way through the orchard and drove up to the open door from which the light was shining. At the Major’s halloo a tall form descended the low steps and came to them. Major Welch stated their case as belated travellers. Ruth’s heart was instantly warmed by the cordial response: “Get right out, sir—glad to have you.” “Ah, my dear—here are a lady and gentleman who want to spend the night.” This to a slender figure who had come out of the house and joined them. “My daughter, madam; my daughter, sir.” “Good-evening,” said the girl, and Ruth, who had been wondering at the softness of these farmer-voices, recollected herself just in time to take the hand which she found held out to her in the darkness in instinctive friendliness. “I am Major Welch,” said that gentleman, not to be behind his host in politeness. “And this is my daughter.” “We are glad to see you,” repeated the young girl simply to Ruth in her charming voice, as if the introduction required a little more formal greeting. “Ah! Major, glad to see you,” said the host, heartily. “Are you any relation to my old friend, General Welch of Columbia, who was with Johnson?” “I don’t think so,” said Major Welch.