wife," Truxton repeated. "I fought
for democratic ideals. I am practising them. Mary is a lady. You must
admit that, Grandfather."

"I do admit it," said the Judge slowly, "in the sense that you mean it.
But in the county sense? Do you think the Merriweathers will ask her to
their ball? Do you think Bob Flippin will dine with my friends
to-night?"

"I don't think he will expect to dine with you, Grandfather. I think if
you ask him, he will refuse. But if you take your friendship from him it
will break his heart----"

"Who said I would take my friendship away from Bob Flippin?"

"He is afraid--you may----"

"Because you married Mary?"

"Yes."

The Judge was breathing hard. "Whom does he think I'd go fishing with?"

"Do you think he'll want to go fishing with you if you cast off Mary?"

The Judge had a vision of life without Bob Flippin. On sunshiny days
there would be no one to cut bait for him, no one to laugh with him at
the dogs as they sat waiting for their corn-cakes, no one to listen with
flattering attention to his old, old tales.

It had not occurred to him that Bob Flippin, too, might have his pride.

He sat down heavily in a porch chair.

"Go and get Mary," he exploded; "bring her here. The thing is done. The
milk is spilled. And there's no use crying over it. And if you think you
two young people can separate me and Bob Flippin----"

Mrs. Beaufort and Becky came down presently, to find the old man gazing,
frowning, into space.

"I have told him to bring Mary, Claudia, but I must say that I am
bitterly disappointed."

"Mary is a good little thing, Father." Aunt Claudia's voice shook.

The old man looked up at her. "It is hardest for you, my dear. And I
have helped to make it hard."

He reached out his hand to her. She took it. "He is my son--and I love
him----"

"And I love you, Claudia."

"May I get the blue room ready?"

The blue room was the bridal chamber at Huntersfield; kept rather
sacredly at other times for formal purposes.

"Do as you please. The house is yours, my dear."

And so that night the lights of the blue room shone on Fiddle Flippin
and her new grandmother.

"Do you think she would let me put her to bed?" Mrs. Beaufort had asked
Mary.

"If you will sing, 'Jack-Sam Bye.'"

Mary pulled the last little garment from the pink plump body, and
Fiddle, like a rosy Cupid, counted her toes gleefully in the middle of
the wide bed.

"I told Truxton," Mary said suddenly