I went up to my room and sat down, sad that I had seen her going away from me, yet happy to know that she had left her heart in my keeping. But the foolishness of this separation struck me with a force that had been lacking until now, and for a time I felt toward the old man a hardness that not even a keen appreciation of his kindness and his drollery could soften. Gradually, however, the truth came to me that Alf had drawn the plan, and with my arms stretched out toward the hill-top that had slowly arisen between me and the fluttering handkerchief I foolishly apologized to the old man. I did more foolish things than that; I improvised a hymn and sang it to Guinea--a chant that, no doubt, would have been immeasurably funny to the cold-hearted and the sane, but it brought the tears to my eyes and rendered the rafters just above my head a work of lace, far away. And at these devotions I might have remained for hours had not a sharp footfall smote upon my ear. I hastened down stairs, and at the entrance of the passage stood Chyd Lundsford, looking about, slowly lashing his leg with a switch. "Helloa! Where are all the folks?" "They are gone, sir," I answered, stiffly bowing to him. "Gone? I don't know that I quite catch your meaning." "If it be illusive you have made it so. I said that they were gone, which means, of course, that they are not here." "I understand that all right enough, but do you mean that they are not in at present or that they have really left home?" "They have no home, sir." He gave himself a sharp cut with the switch. "It can't have been so very long since they left, for the old man was over to see father this morning. Which way did they go? I may overtake them." "That would be greatly against their wish, sir." "I am not asking for an opinion. I want to know which way they went." "I am not at liberty to tell you that. They have gone out into a world that is as strange to them as America was to Columbus." "Rot. There isn't a smarter woman anywhere than Guinea. She has read everything and she knows the world as well as I do. But why are you not privileged to tell me which way they went? I have something to say that concerns them closely. Did they go toward town?" "Do you suppose that they would go away without first seeing their son?" "Then you mean that they went to town. Why the devil can't you speak out? Why should you stand as a stumbling block?" "Why should I stand as a sign post?" "Now here, you needn't show your selfishness in this matter. She wouldn't wipe her feet on you." "No, but she would wipe them on you." "What!" He took a step forward, but he stepped back again and stood there, lashing himself with the switch. "My father tells me that you are a gentleman," he said. "And you may safely accept your father's opinion of me," I answered. "But you are not striving, sir, to make that opinion good." "A good opinion needs no bolstering up."