The trees over-arching the long street had lost most of their leaves, but the river was as blue as ever, and the gardens still held late blooms. A tall cosmos peeped over the fence of one, chrysanthemums made a brave showing in another. A few courageous nasturtiums started brilliantly from amid their yellowing leaves, scarlet salvia shot out myriads of little tongues of flame before almost every house. The streets were quite full of people this Saturday morning. Country vehicles, mud-stained, and in many cases rickety and drawn by shabby mules, jostled more pretentious teams. Lolling darkies singing some monotonous camp-meeting hymn, drove their brick carts to a new building which was going up near by. Dogs were seen everywhere, some at the heels of the young men who, in hunting attire, were making ready to start out for a day's shooting, some lying on the porches ready to bark at any passer-by, some sportively chasing one another up and down the street, playfully catching at the long silky ear of a companion, or rolling him over and over, then off again in hot chase. One or two thrust their cold noses into Linda's hand as she passed them, and with wagging tail received her caress and "Nice doggie" as something not only expected but deserved. The air was soft, sweet and languorous, for Indian summer was here and the days still held suggestions of the earlier season. Linda turned in at the gate leading to Miss Ri's house, and pushing her feet through the drift of crisp leaves which covered the gravelled walk, enjoyed the exhilaration of the hour. She was buoyant, hopeful, really happy. Life was opening up wonderful possibilities. The music of the spheres was hers. She read the spirit of the universe in each dancing leaf, in each scarlet flower-flame. Seeing Phebe at the back of the house she ran around to her. The old woman raised herself ponderously from where she was spreading her dish-towels on the grass. "Do you like it here? Are you happy, Mammy?" asked Linda. "Jes listen to de chile," exclaimed Mammy. "Is I happy? I done got 'ligion long ago, honey, and I ain't back-slid fo' many a ye'r. Co'se I is happy. I ain't shoutin' but I ain't mo'nin', an' I hopes I ain't lak dese young things dat hollers hallelujah at nights and steals from de madam in de mawnin'. Co'se I is happy long as mah baby ain't down in de mouf. Yuh sutt'nly looks peart, honey, an' bless mah Lord an' Marster dat I kin say it. Whar all yo' beaux, honey chile?" Linda laughed. "Oh, they'll be around after a while." Mammy chuckled and Linda entering by the back door, after some searching, at last found Miss Ri upstairs looking over the house linen. "Well, Verlinda, you have a fine color," said the lady looking up. "It does you good to get out into the fresh air. Any news up town?" "I met Berk." "You did? What did he say about the trunk?"