When they were rowing home again, the skiffs at first kept abreast, but gradually, in spite of Miss White's desire to be "at her post," and David's entire willingness to hold back, Blair and Elizabeth appropriately fell behind, with only a little shaggy dog, which Elizabeth had lately acquired, to play propriety. In the yellow September afternoon the river ran placidly between the hills and low-lying meadows; here and there, high on a wooded hillside, a maple flamed among the greenness of the walnuts and locusts, or the chestnuts showed the bronze beginnings of autumn. Ahead of them the sunshine had melted into an umber haze, which in the direction of Mercer deepened into a smudge of black. Elizabeth was twisting her left hand about to get different lights on her ring, which she had managed to slip on her finger when Cherry-pie was not looking. Blair, with absent eyes, was singing under his breath: "'Oh! I came to a river, an' I couldn't get across; Sing "Polly-wolly-doodle" all the day! An' I jumped upon a nigger, an' I thought he was a hoss; Sing Polly-wolly--' "Horrid old hole, Mercer," he broke off, resting on his oars and letting the boat slip back on the current. "I like Mercer!" Elizabeth said, ceasing to admire the ring. "Since you've come home from boarding-school you don't like anything but the East." She began to stroke her puppy's head violently. Blair was silent; he was looking at a willow dipping its swaying finger-tips in the water. "Blair! why don't you answer me?" Blair, plainly bored, said, "Well, I don't like hideousness and dirt." "David likes Mercer." "I bet Mrs. Richie doesn't," Blair murmured, and began to row lazily. "Oh, Mrs. Richie!" cried Elizabeth; "you think whatever she thinks is about perfect." "Well, isn't it?" Elizabeth's lip hardened. "I suppose you think she's perfect too?" "I do," Blair said. "She thinks I'm dreadful because, sometimes, I--get provoked," Elizabeth said angrily. "Well, you are," Blair agreed calmly. "If I am so wicked, I wonder you want to be engaged to me!" "Can't I like anybody but you?" Blair said, and yawned. "You can like everybody, for all I care," she retorted. Blair whistled, upon which Elizabeth became absorbed in petting her dog, kissing him ardently between his eyes. "I hate to see a girl kiss a dog," Blair observed; "'Sing Polly-wolly-doo--'" "Don't look, then," said Elizabeth, and kissed Bobby again. Blair sighed, and gave up his song. Bobby, obviously uncomfortable, scrambled out of Elizabeth's lap and began to stretch himself on the uncertain floor of the skiff. "Lie down!" Blair commanded, and poked the little creature, not ungently, with his foot. Bobby yelped, gave a flying nip at his ankle, and retreated to the shelter of his mistress's skirts. "Confound that dog!" cried Blair. "You are a horrid boy!" she said, consoling her puppy with frantic caresses. "I'm glad he bit you!"