irt and with
pistols for two. We are more civilized in these days and I'm glad of
it."

"Are we?" said the Major; "I'm not sure. But I hope so."

Randy came by just then and spoke to them. "Are you getting everything
you want, Mother?"

"Yes, indeed. The Major looked after me. I've had salad twice, and
everything else----"

"That sounds greedy, but it isn't, not when you think of the groaning
boards of other days. Has she been telling you about them, Major?"

"Yes, she has peopled the room with ghosts----"

"Now, Major!"

"Pleasant ghosts--in lace ruffles and velvet coats, smoking long pipes
around a punch bowl; beautiful ghosts in patches and powder," he made
an expressive gesture; "they have mingled with the rest of
you--shadow-shapes of youth and loveliness."

"Well, if anybody can tell about it, Mother can," said Randy, "but I
don't believe there were ever any prettier girls than are here
to-night."

"Becky looks like an angel," Mrs. Paine stated, "but she's pale, Randy."

"She is tired, Mother. I think she ought to go home. I shall try to
make her when I come back. She dropped her fan and I am going to get
it."

He had not told Becky where he was going. He had slipped away--his
mind intent on regaining her property. But when he reached the bushes
and flashed his pocket-light on the ground beneath, there was no fan.
It must have fallen here. He was sure he had made no mistake.

He decided finally that someone else had found it. It seemed unlikely,
however, for the spot was remote, and the thickness of the bushes
offered a barrier to anyone strolling casually through the grounds.

He went slowly back to the house. Ever since that night when Becky had
said she would marry him he had lived in a dream. They were pledged to
each other, yet she did not love him. How could he take her? And
again, how could he give her up? She had offered herself freely, and
he wanted her in his future. And there was a fighting chance. He had
youth and courage and a love for her he challenged any man to match.
Why not? Was it beyond the bounds of reason that some day he could
make Becky love him?

They had agreed that no one was to be told. "Not until I come back
from Nantucket," Becky had stipulated.

"By that time you won't want me, my dear."

"Well, I shan't if you talk like that," Becky had said with some spirit.

"Like what?"

"As if I were a queen and you were a slave. When you were a lit