There was a note of pity in Mrs. Henderson's voice when she spoke, "To be sure it is, dear. I never said that your father danced. He seemed to enjoy having people here. It was your mother, though, who loved that sort of thing and her word was law to him in everything. She depended on Hezekiah Wilkins to set the pace by wielding a rhythmic toe, as he used to call it." A smile of gay memories died in her eyes at more solemn thoughts. "Those good times lasted only a couple of years. Your mother was taken ill and then--" she paused and continued softly, "--one afternoon she went away from the room upstairs and left you, dear," her voice caught, "to Serena and me." Mrs. Henderson's arm went about the girl but in a moment she resumed, "After the death of your mother your father devoted himself to money making again. It took all of his time." There was a flash of anger in her eye. "He has succeeded very well in that." Mrs. Henderson arose hastily. "Dear me, child, I am staying too long. You should go to some of these youthful affairs about town. I imagine that the boys and girls of South Ridgefield have some very good times." The girl's eyes lighted with interest but in a moment it had gone, replaced by a thoughtful little smile. "Daddy would be lonely without me. I ought not to leave him alone in the evening." Again the angry glint came in Mrs. Henderson's eyes, but she controlled herself and said quietly, "You are the best judge of that, dear. But now that you have finished school you should have something to occupy your time. I know that Serena would have you play great lady, but, with due respect to her ideas, you will find it a lonely game in these busy days. Why don't you give some of your time to helping those not so fortunate as you? Think it over, child," she urged as she left. After her caller had departed Virginia returned to the couch and with intense interest gave herself up to the examination of the book which had been her mother's. A negress of uncertain age appeared in the doorway of the house. Her hair was streaked with grey and she was enormously fat. She wore a calico dress over the front of which stretched a snowy white apron, its strings lost in a crease of flesh at the waist line. Bound about her head was a white handkerchief and her sleeves were rolled to her elbows. She moved about the porch replacing the wicker furniture. Stopping by the couch she rearranged some magazines, and then, "Honey chil', ain' you gwine git dressed? De clock done struck fo'." "In a minute." Serena's eyes wandered to the side lawn. Instantly her attention was riveted upon certain objects protruding from some shrubbery. They were conspicuous and unusual as lawn decorations, bulking large beside a recumbent lawn mower, a rake and grass shears.