Then the red-bird saw such a remarkable thing happen that his bright eyes almost popped out of his little head. He saw a hand and a powerful arm suddenly steal out from below the black hat and move in the direction of the flowered straw--not hurriedly, but stealthily and surely. Having reached it, the hand and the arm drew the unresisting flowered straw in the direction of the black hat, until presently the hats came together. And then the red-bird, himself desperately in love, knew what it all meant, and burst into jubilant song. And the hard-working bumblebee, who also had a sweetheart, took a moment's rest in honor of the event and buzzed his delight; and even the long-legged grasshopper, an admirer of the sex, but a confirmed bachelor, shouted his approbation until he was fairly hoarse. It was some time before the adventurous hand could be put back where it properly belonged, and the face beneath the straw, when it came into view, was a very flushed face, but the brown eyes shone like stars. As they walked through the old street, the setting sun filling the air with a golden glory, they passed a sweet-faced old lady cutting flowers in her garden, and she smiled an indulgent smile, and they nodded and smiled back at her. “I want you to promise me something,” Miss Braxton said, suddenly stopping and looking up at him. “I want you to promise me,” she continued, not waiting for his reply, “that you will not quarrel with my father. He is the best father in the world. My mother died when I was a child, and since then he has been father and mother and the whole world to me. I could never forgive myself if you exchanged a harsh word with him.” “If all the stories I hear are true,” replied the Colonel, with a good-humored laugh, “your father is the one for you to see.” “My father says a great deal which he frequently regrets the moment afterwards,” she responded, earnestly. “He is a warm-hearted and an impulsive man, and the dearest and best father in the world.” The Colonel gave the desired promise, and they walked on in silence. When they reached the Elms, and her hand was on the big iron gate, she turned to him, an appealing look in her eyes. “Must you really go to-morrow?” she asked. “I am compelled to go,” he replied, sadly. “I have already remained here too long. I must start to-morrow night.” “I cannot tell you how sorry I am that you are going away,” she said, softly, extending her hand. He caught it up passionately. “I must see you again!” he cried. “I can't go away until I do. It is hard enough to leave even then. I won't ask you to come away from your father's house to meet me, but you could be here, couldn't you?” “When shall I come?” she asked, simply. “The train leaves to-morrow night at twelve. Could you be here at eleven?” “I will be here at eleven,” she said; and then, with a brave attempt to smile, she turned away. Just at that moment General Braxton rounded the neighboring corner and came straight towards them.