"Indeed! That means quite a nice return in money;" her tone had a tinge of regret for her own exclusion from so excellent a business arrangement. The orchard at Benvenew was a fairly fine one, but its full resources were undeveloped for lack of capital. If she had the money Mistress Amanda felt sure she might rival the success of the master of Roselawn, who was rolling up a fortune before the admiring eyes of his neighbors. Envy of a neighbor's superior success is not a Virginian trait. All your true Virginian asks for is the tithe due to friendship and he will put hands in pockets and look on while the enterprising compatriot piles up his dollars. But, being a woman, Benvenew's mistress could not and did not try to suppress the emulative instinct that made her long for an opportunity to prove her business capacity. Beesly's ears, sharp as a hunter's, had caught the word "money," and with his quick way of whirling about, he threw a sentence toward the other guest. "By the way, talking of money, Armstrong, it's kind of curious, isn't it?--But, never mind, we'll have a chance to discuss that going home. What I was going to tell you was about the wedding of the turkey-girl in the Tennessee mountains," he continued, turning back with equal suddenness to his old and young auditors, who had scarcely had time to follow his flight with their eyes before he was with them again, fluent as a blackbird rehearsing a well-practised theme. Was it a malicious impulse suddenly checked by compunction for the man he was "cutting out," and toward whom decency demanded at least the avoidance of insult upon the top of injury? Or was it a mere random arrow from his whimsical quiver that had made the young preacher start and redden, while his deep eyes began to burn with an intense fire that promised some strong kind of entertainment for the person proposing to accompany him "home." Whichever it was, Armstrong now made up his mind that as his object in coming to Benvenew had been defeated, he would, at least, take the initiative in breaking up that little _séance_ yonder, toward which he felt unsanctified resentment. He arose. At the movement old lady Powell, whose pleasure in the vivacity of her entertainer had been more than once disturbed by the feeling that she was not paying proper attention to her minister, gently released herself from her granddaughter's encircling arm, and came towards him. "You shorely ain't thinkin' o' goin', _yit_, Mr. Armstrong? Why, we hain't seen nothin' o' you yit, and it's seldom enough you come. Stay to tea, now! Mandy, do press Mr. Armstrong to stay to tea!"