The old vehicle held but six, and as the aunts always rode home with their brother, Patricia was left to the escort of Juma, custodian of the prayer-books. By the clump of protecting boxwood at the end of the Marine Parade she had come upon him. The sea held his eyes until there was no mistaking the footsteps. Her approaching crinoline made soft little rustles, as if entreating him to leave his musings. Her body-guard's shuffles, too, were unmistakable. Like some young potentate her lover turned about, describing an elaborate bow with his white castor. The very picture of starched tranquillity he looked, but underneath the blue hammer-tail coat a heart was beating wildly, as she, made wise by love, knew well--for her own was its echo. There was a brief moment while she watched the color mount to his sun-bronzed face, the blue eyes glow, the strong form quiver ever so slightly. Then her lips framed "Richard"--the key of the universe. "Patricia!" came the answer. Juma, from his discreet distance, heard her compared to the magnolia worn on the lapel of the coat she admired so much. In her white and fragrant young womanhood she was like it from sheer inaccessibility. The flower expressed her character and position--Patricia Knickerbocker, a daughter of the autocrat of York. When he mentioned her father's name the girl shivered. An invisible wall seemed to rise between them. Then the feeling died away. Her soul grew wider awake each moment her lover gazed at her. As he drew her closer to him Juma's figure in the background bent over a flower in the path. "Let 'em kiss," he mumbled. "Ole Miss used to say de female dat never lub am a sour pippin, and dere's enough ter start a vinegar press in dis family." "You'll not permit them to take you away from me? You will be mine forever and ever?" said the youth. A sigh of happiness answered him. "I know I'm poor, Patricia, and my family can never equal yours." "Don't!" she whispered. "What does it matter, what does anything matter--only that I'm here _with you_!" "See the night creeping in off there, dear heart. It holds nothing more wonderful than this moment." "How black the water looks," she faltered. "I will go to your father and demand your hand." She was trembling. "You do not know what a Knickerbocker is--an awful creature with a hundred gorgon heads constantly leering and preaching; detecting flaws in other people's families. One head will tell you that you play the organ in St. Paul's, and another may see that your coat is a trifle worn. We're not the only clan of them in the land." "We must not fear them--not to-night, when love is filling the world." "Only one of my grandmothers married for love, and she was thought to be disgraced." "You will follow her?" he asked, a catch in his voice. Juma was signalling for them to part, and on his forehead she kissed "I will!"