They were crossing a pasture luxuriant with bluegrass where Lucy had been pensioned to while away in comfort her declining years; and now a more tender light came into the old gentleman's face. For he saw her head go up while yet a great way off from them, and saw her intently looking. He knew what difficulty, and with what yearning, she was urging her clouded eyes to do their best; and he guessed the exultation gradually creeping through her frame as she began to realize that Dale was near. Suddenly, as fast as age would permit, she broke into an awkward gallop, furiously whinnying, excitedly calling out her delight. Overtaking her master, who had not been once to see her in all these days, she thrust her muzzle across his shoulder to be petted, as of yore--and this deeply affected the Colonel. But the next instant he stiffened as a man of iron, for the mountaineer, furious at the interference, had struck her cruelly across the face. In utter dejection now she stood, looking after him as he strode away. "Did you see dat?" Uncle Zack cried, and not till then did the Colonel know he was nearby. "It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair, Zack! Take her out four quarts of oats!" "I don' see whar she's gwine put 'em, wid all dat grass inside her," he laughed. "If she wuz a man, I'd a-tucken her a toddy 'foh now to cheer her ole heart! But only de likes of me an' you kin eat ice-cream an' poh down hot coffee, an' pickle 'em wid licker an' not git ourse'ves kilt--ain' dat right, Marse John? Hawses an' dawgs an' cows an' sich, cyarn' put de stuff in dey stumicks dat we kin. It takes a suah-nuff man to do dat!" The old gentleman was not listening. To his surprise he now saw Brent quickly make up the intervening space, grasp Dale by the shoulder and spin him around with every evidence of tremendous anger, then shake his fist in the mountaineer's face as though he were emphasizing a speech. To the Colonel's further astonishment he then saw Dale walk meekly back to the mare, put out his hand, and for several moments stroke her nose. "An' did you see dat?" Uncle Zack yelled in high glee. "I wouldn't have missed it for a million," the old gentleman cried. "Mebbe she don' need no oats now! But I reckon she'd better have 'em, wid yoh com'liments, jest de same!" "I wish Jane could have seen it," the Colonel murmured, keeping his eyes on them. "Dar ain' no reason why she cyarn' be tol' 'bout it," Zack winked to himself, starting to the stables for a full measure of oats. At the Colonel's request she came over early in the afternoon to see to the decorations for his table, and brought a bag with the idea of dressing there. While carrying this into the house Zack graphically made known the drama in the pasture--which may or may not have been the reason why, an hour later as she moved about the flowers, the old gentleman several times wondered why he had never before remarked the beauty of her voice.