The fall worked a new energy in Marley, and, with the assurance that his labors were now soon to bear fruit, he found that he could study better than ever before. He worked faithfully over his books every morning, and he worked so hard that he felt himself entitled to a portion of each afternoon. He would leave the office at four o'clock. Lavinia would be waiting for him, and they would try to get out of sight before Connie returned from school. She might be expected any moment to come slowly down Ward Street entwined with one of her school-girl friends. They did not like, somehow, to meet Connie. The smile she gave them was apt to be disconcerting. They met smiles in the faces of others they encountered in their walks, but they were of a quality more kindly than Connie's smile. They had walked one afternoon to the edge of town where Ward Street climbed a hill and became the road to Mingo. At their feet lay the little fields, in the distance they could see a man plowing with two white horses; off to the right lay the water-works pond, gleaming in the afternoon sun. "What are you thinking of?" Marley said. "I was thinking that it would be nice to live in the country." "I was thinking that very thing myself!" exclaimed Marley. Their eyes met, and they thrilled over this unity in their thoughts. It was marvelous to them, mysterious, prophetic. "Some day I could buy a farm," Marley said; "out that way." "Yes," Lavinia replied, "away off there, beyond those low trees. Do you see?" She pointed, but Marley did not look in the direction of the trees; he looked at her finger. It was so small, so round, so white. He bent forward, and kissed the finger. "Oh, but you must look where I'm pointing," said Lavinia. They drew closely together. Marley took Lavinia's hand and they stood long in silence. "We could have a country home there," Marley said after a while, "with a hedge about it and stables and horses and dogs. It would be close to town; I could go in in the morning and out again in the afternoon." "And I could drive you in, and then come for you in the afternoon--when court adjourned." "Oh, I would have a man to drive me," said Marley. "But couldn't I ride in beside you?" "Yes; you could sit beside me, on the back seat; we'd have an open carriage." "A victoria!" exclaimed Lavinia. "It would be the only one in Macochee!" "Is that what they call them?" "Victorias?" "Yes." "You know, with a low seat behind and a high seat for the driver. You have a green cushion for your feet. You would look so handsome in one, Glenn. You would sit very erect and proud, with your hands on a cane. You would have white hair then." "We would be old?" he asked in some dismay. "No, no," said Lavinia, trying to reconcile her dreams, "not old exactly. But I dote on white hair. It's so distinguished for a lawyer with a country home. Of course we'll have to get old sometime." "We'll grow old together, dear."