d.

"I'd like to meet him, by Jove, I'd like to meet him. He has been
teaching his wife to poke fun at her old friend----"

She faced him fearlessly. "I'm not poking fun. I--I'd hate to have
the Bannisters lose one little bit of their beautiful traditions.
I--I---- Some day I'm going to teach little Fiddle those traditions,
and tell her what it means when--when people have race back of them.
You see, I haven't it, Judge, but I know what it's worth."

He was touched by her earnestness. "My dear Mary," he said, "I wish my
own grandson looked at it that way. His letters of late have been very
disturbing."

A little flush crept into her cheeks. "Disturbing?"

"He writes that we Americans have got to fit our practice to our
theories. He says that we shout democracy and practice autocracy.
That we don't believe that all men are free and equal, and that, well,
in your words, Mary--we let other people carry our baskets."

Mary was smiling to herself. "You are glad he is coming home?"

"Truxton? Yes. On Saturday."

"Becky told me. She rode over to get Mother to help Mandy."

"I am going to have a lot of people to dine the day he arrives," said
the Judge, "and next week there'll be the Merriweathers' ball. He will
have a chance to see his old friends."

"Yes," said Mary, "he will."

They talked a great deal about Truxton after that.

"I wish he bore the Bannister name," said the Judge. "Becky is the
only Bannister."

After the death of her husband Mrs. Beaufort had come to live with the
Judge. Truxton's boyhood had been spent on the old estate. The
Judge's income was small, and Truxton had known few luxuries. Like the
rest of the boys of the Bannister family he was studying law at the
University. He and Randy had been classmates, but had gone into
different branches of the service.

"When he comes back," the Judge told Mary, "he must show the stuff he
is made of. I can't have him selling cars around the county like Randy
Paine."

"Well, Randy has sold a lot of them," said Mary. "Father has given him
an order----"

"You don't mean to gay that Bob Flippin is going to buy a car----"

"He is."

"He didn't dare tell me," the Judge said; "what's he going to do with
his horses?"

"Keep them," said Mary serenely; "the car is for Mother--she's going to
drive it herself."

The Judge, with a vision of Mollie Flippin's middle-aged plumpness upon
him, exclaimed: "You don't mean that your mother i