over, as it whirled into Yardley's gate, gave a certain
air of eclat to the Manor House that it had not known since the days of
the old colonel. Nothing was lacking that money and taste could
furnish. The grays were high-steppers and smooth as satin, the polished
chains rattled and clanked about the pole; the body was red and the
wheels yellow, the lap-robe blue, with a monogram; and the diminutive
boy studded with silver buttons bearing the crest of the Feilding
family was as smart as the tailor could make him.

And the owner himself, in his whity-brown driving-coat with big pearl
buttons, yellow gloves, and gray hat, looked every inch the person to
hold the ribbons. Altogether it was a most fashionable equipage, owned
and driven by a most fashionable man.

As for the older residents of Warehold, they had only words of praise
for the turnout. Uncle Ephraim declared that it was a "Jim Dandy,"
which not only showed his taste, but which also proved how much broader
that good-natured cynic had become in later years. Billy Tatham gazed
at it with staring eyes as it trundled down the highway and turned into
the gate, and at once determined to paint two of his hacks bright
yellow and give each driver a lap-robe with the letter "T" worked in
high relief.

The inmates of Yardley were not quite so enthusiastic. Martha was glad
that her bairn was having such a good time, and she would often stand
on the porch with little Ellen's hand in hers and wave to Max and Lucy
as they dashed down the garden road and out through the gate, the tiger
behind; but Jane, with that quick instinct which some women possess,
recognized something in Feilding's manner which she could not put into
words, and so held her peace. She had nothing against Max, but she did
not like him. Although he was most considerate of her feelings and
always deferred to her, she felt that any opposition on her part to
their outings would have made no difference to either one of them. He
asked her permission, of course, and she recognized the courtesy, but
nothing that he ever did or said overcame her dislike of him.

Doctor John's personal attitude and bearing toward Feilding was an
enigma not only to Jane, but to others who saw it. He invariably
greeted him, whenever they met, with marked, almost impressive
cordiality, but it never passed a certain limit of reserve; a certain
dignity of manner which Max had recognized the first day he shook hands
with him. It recalle