"Impudence! to say that I am in love with you. It's too bad, Ralph, for you to be talking so!" added Fanny, pouting and coloring, "and I'll thank you not to talk so any more." "Why not?" "I'll be offended." "That will make you lovely." "Mr. Ashley!" "Miss Temple!" And striking an attitude, Mr. Ashley waited for Fanny's communication. Redbud smiled, and turning to Fanny, said: "Come, now, don't quarrel--and come in and take off your things." "Oh, I can't," cried the volatile Fanny, laughing--"Ralph and myself just called by; we are past our time now. That horrid old Miss Sallianna will scold me, though she does talk about the beauties of nature--I wonder if she considers her front curls included!" And Miss Fanny tossed her own, and laughed in defiance of the absent Sallianna. At the same moment the Squire came out with Mr. Rushton, and called to Redbud. The young girl ran to him. "Would you like a ride, little one?" said the Squire, "Miss Lavinia and myself are going to town." "Oh, yes, sir!" "But your visitors--" "Fanny says she cannot stay." Fanny ran up to speak for herself; and while Redbud hastened to her room to prepare for the ride, this young lady commenced a triangular duel with the Squire and Mr. Ralph, which caused a grim smile to light upon Mr. Rushton's face, for an instant, so to speak. The carriage then drove up with its old greys, and Miss Lavinia and Redbud entered. Before rode the Squire and Mr. Rushton; behind, Ralph and Fanny. As for Verty, he kept by the carriage, and talked with Redbud and Miss Lavinia, who seemed to have grown very good-humored and friendly. Redbud had not ridden out since her return to Apple Orchard, and the fresh, beautiful day made her cheeks bright and her eyes brilliant. The grass, the trees, the singing birds, and merry breezes, spoke to her in their clear, happy voices, and her eye dwelt fondly on every object, so old, and familiar, and dear. Is it wonderful that not seldom her glance encountered Verty's, and they exchanged smiles? His face was the face of her boy playmate--it was very old and familiar; who can say that it was not more--that it was not dear? And so they passed the old gate, with all its apple trees, and the spot where the great tree stood, through whose heart was bored the aperture for the cider press beam--and through the slope beyond, leaving the overseer's house, babies and all, behind, and issued forth into the highway leading to the ancient borough of Winchester. And gazing on the happy autumn fields, our little heroine smiled brightly, and felt very thankful in her heart to Him who dowered her life with all that beauty, and joy, and happiness; and ever and anon her hand would be raised absently toward her neck, where it played with the old coral necklace taken from the drawer in which it had been laid--by accident, we should say, if there were any accident. And so they approached the town. CHAPTER LXVI. THE HOUR AND THE NECKLACE.