ll be bold enough
to ask you to take tea with me this evening; and I'll have no refusal."

Gabriel found himself in an awkward predicament. He felt bound to
discover what part the Union League was playing. He had read of its
sinister influence in other parts of the South, and he judged that the
hour of its organisation at Shady Dale was the aptest time for such a
discovery. He couldn't tell Nan what his plans were--he had no idea that
she had already guessed them--and he hardly knew what to say. He was
thoroughly uncomfortable. He was silent so long that Mr. Sanders had an
opportunity to ask Nan if she hadn't made a remark to Gabriel.

"Yes; I asked him to tea," she replied in a low voice; "he has forgotten
it by this time." But Nan well knew why Gabriel was silent; she was
neither vexed nor surprised at his hesitation. Nevertheless, she must
play her part.

"Give him time, Nan; give him time," said Mr. Sanders, consolingly.
"Gabriel comes of a stuttering family. They say it took his grandma e'en
about seven year to tell Dick Lumsden she'd have him. I lay Gabriel is
composin' in his mind a flowery piece sorter like, 'Here's my heart, an'
here's my hand; ef you ax me to tea, I'm your'n to command.'"

"I'm sorry I can't come, Nan, but I can't; and it's just my luck that
you should invite me to-day," said Gabriel, finally.

"You have another engagement?" asked Nan.

"No, not an engagement," he replied.

"Well, you are going to do something very unnecessary and improper,"
said Nan, with the air and tone of a mature woman. "You are sure to get
into trouble. Why don't you ask your Mr. Bethune to take your place, or
at least go with you?"

"Why, you talk as if you knew what I am going to do," remarked Gabriel;
"but you couldn't guess in a week."

At this point Mr. Sanders tried to stop in order to deliver an address.
"I bet you--I bet you a seven-pence ag'in a speckled hen that Nan knows
precisely what you're up to."

But Nan and Gabriel pulled him along in spite of his frequently
expressed desire to "lay down in the road an' take a nap." "It's a
shame," he said, "for a great big gal an' a great big boy to be harryin'
a man as old as me. Why don't you ketch hands an' run to play? No,
nothin' will do, but you must worry William H. Sanders, late of said
county." He received no reply to this, and continued: "I'm glad I took
too much, Gabriel, ef only for one thing. You know what I told you about
Nan's temper--well, yo