"You look it," Mandy told her; "effen I was you, I'd eat and git fat." "It isn't fashionable to be fat, Mandy." "Skeletums may be in style," said Mandy, breaking eggs for the omelette, "but I ain' ever found good looks in bones." "Don't you like _my_ bones, Mandy?" "You ain't got none, honey." "You called me a skeleton." The kettle boiled. "Effen I called you a skeletum," Mandy said as she placed a cup and saucer on a small napkined tray, "my min' was on dat-ar Daisy. You ain' got no bones, Miss Becky. But Daisy, she's got a neck like a picked tukkey, and her shoulder-blades stan' out like wings." III Becky went to the train with her aunt. George Dalton drove Madge down and passed the old surrey on the way. Later Madge met Mrs. Beaufort and Becky on the station platform, and it was when Dalton settled her in her chair in the train that she said, "She's a darling. Keep her on a pedestal, Georgie----" "You're a good sport," he told her; "you know you'd hate it if I did." "I shouldn't. I'd like to think of you on your knees----" It was time for him to leave her. She gave him her hand. "Until we meet again, Georgie." Her eyes were cool and smiling. Yet later as she looked out on the flying hills, there was trouble in them. There had been a time when Dalton had seemed to square with her girlish dreams. And now, there was no one to warn this other girl with dreams in her eyes. George was not a vulture, he was simply a marauding bee----! Becky was already in the surrey when George came back, and Calvin was gathering up his reins. "Oh, look here, I wish you'd let me drive you up, Miss Bannister," George said, sparkling; "there's no reason, is there, why you must ride alone?" "Oh, no." "Then you will?" Her hesitation was slight. "I should like it." "And can't we drive about a bit? You'll show me the old places? It is such a perfect day. I hope you haven't anything else to do." She had not. "I'll go with Mr. Dalton, Calvin." Calvin, who had watched over more than one generation of Bannister girls, and knew what was expected of them, made a worried protest. "Hit's gwine rain, Miss Becky." Dalton dismissed him with a wave of the hand. "I won't let her get wet," he lifted Becky from the surrey and walked with her to his car. Kemp, who had come down in the house truck with Madge's trunks, stood stiff and straight by the door. Being off with Miss MacVeigh he was on with Miss Bannister. Girls might come and girls might go in his master's life, but Kemp had an air of going on forever. When he had seated Becky, Dalton stepped back and gave hurried instructions. "At four, Kemp," he said, "or if you are later, wait until we come." "Very well, sir." Kemp stood statuesquely at attention until the car whirled on. Then he sat down on the station platform, and talked to the agent. He was no longer a servant but a man.