Under the spell of her beauty, he was aware of a pleasurable sensation, as though the pale rose of the orchard grass had gone to his head and coloured his vision. There was a thrill in feeling her large, soft arm brushing his sleeve, in watching the rise and fall of her bosom under her tight calico dress. "I shall always know that we were friends--good friends, from the first," he resumed after a minute. "You are very kind, sir," she answered, "this is my path over the stile and it is growin' late--Tobias's mother will surely give him a whippin'. I hope you don't mind my havin' gathered these persimmons on your land," she concluded, with an honesty which was relieved from crudeness by her physical dignity, "they are hardly fit to eat because there has been so little frost yet." "Well, I'm sorry for that, Miss Keren-happuch, or shall it be Blossom?" "I like Blossom better," she answered shyly, lifting her scant calico skirt with one hand as she mounted the stile. "Then good night, lovely Blossom," he called gaily while he turned back into the bridle path which led like a frayed white seam over the pasture. CHAPTER III IN WHICH MR. GAY ARRIVES AT HIS JOURNEY'S END Broad and low, with the gabled pediment of the porch showing through boughs of oaks, and a flight of bats wheeling over the ivied roof, the house appeared to Gay beyond a slight swell in the meadows. The grove of oaks, changing from dark red to russet, was divided by a short walk, bordered by clipped box, which led to the stone steps and to two discoloured marble urns on which broken-nosed Cupids were sporting. As he was about to slip his reins over the back of an iron chair on the lawn, a shriek in a high pitched negro voice pierced his ears from a half shuttered dormer-window in the east wing. "Fo' de Lawd, hit's de ha'nt er ole marster! Yessuh--Yessuh,--I'se a-comin'--I'se a-comin'." The next instant the window slammed with a bang, and the sound of flying footsteps echoed through the darkened interior of the house.