At first, Lumsden had left him in no uncertainty in regard to his own disposition in the matter. He had frowned upon Goodwin's advances by treating him with that sort of repellant patronage which is so aggravating, because it affords one no good excuse for knocking down the author of the insult. But of late, having observed the growing force and independence of Morton's character, and his ascendancy over the men of his own age, the Captain appreciated the necessity of attaching such a person to himself, particularly for the election which was to take place in the autumn. Not that he had any intention of suffering Patty to marry Morton. He only meant to play fast and loose a while. Had he even intended to give his approval to the marriage at last, he would have played fast and loose all the same, for the sake of making Patty and her lover feel his power as long as possible. At present, he meant to hold out just enough of hope to bind the ardent young man to his interest. Morton, on his part, reasoned that if Lumsden's kindness should continue to increase in the future as it had in the three weeks past, it would become even cordial, after a while. To young men in love, all good things are progressive. On the Sunday morning following the shucking, Morton rose early, and went to the stable. Did you ever have the happiness to see a quiet autumn Sunday in the backwoods? Did you ever observe the stillness, the solitude, the softness of sunshine, the gentleness of wind, the chip-chip-chlurr-r-r of great flocks of blackbirds getting ready for migration, the lazy cawing of crows, softened by distance, the half-laughing bark of cunning squirrel, nibbling his prism-shaped beech-nut, and twinkling his jolly, child-like eye at you the while, as if to say, "Don't you wish you might guess?" Not that Morton saw aught of these things. He never heard voices, or saw sights, out of the common, and that very October Sunday had been set apart for a horse-race down at "The Forks." The one piece of property which our young friend had acquired during his minority was a thorough-bred filley, and he felt certain that she--being a horse of the first families--would be able to "lay out" anything that could be brought against her. He was very anxious about the race, and therefore rose early, and went out into the morning light that he might look at his mare, and feel of her perfect legs, to make sure that she was in good condition. "All right, Dolly?" he said--"all right this morning, old lady? eh? You'll beat all the scrubs; won't you?" In this exhilarating state of anxiety and expectation, Morton came to breakfast, only to have his breath taken away. His mother asked him to ride to meeting with her, and it was almost as hard to deny her as it was to give up the race at "The Forks."