was in plain view of Millwood, not a quarter of a mile away, and
in the glow of the blazing red sunset, shining through its broken
shutters and windows, she could see Mammy Maria busy about their
dinner.

She looked up the road anxiously--then, with an impatient gesture she
took the cotton bloom from her bosom and began to pluck the petals
apart, one by one, saying aloud:

"One, I love--two, I love--
Three, I love, I say.
Four, I love with all my heart,
And five, I cast away--"

She stopped short and sighed--"O, pshaw! that was Harry; why did I
name it for him?"

Again she looked impatiently up the road and then went on:

"Six, he loves, seven, she loves,
Eight, both love--"

She turned quickly. She heard the gallop of a saddle horse coming.
The rider sprang off, tied his horse and sat on the rock by her side.

She appeared not to notice him, and her piqued face was turned away
petulantly.

It was a handsome boyish face that looked at her for a moment
mischievously. Then he seized and kissed her despite her struggles.

For this she boxed his ears soundly and sat off on another rock.

"Harry Travis, you can't kiss me every time you want to, no matter if
we are engaged."

It was a strong and rather a masculine voice, and it grated on one
slightly, being scarcely expected from so beautiful a face. In it was
power, self-will, ambition--but no tenderness nor that voice, soft
and low, which "is an excellent thing in woman."

He laughed banteringly.

"Did you ever hear that love is not love if it is a minute late? Just
see how long I have waited here for you?"

She sat down by his side and looked fondly up into his face, flushed
with exercise and smiling half cynically. It was the same smile seen
so often on the face of Richard Travis.

"Oh, say," he said, dolefully, "but don't start the
hubby-come-to-taw-business on me until we are married. I was late
because I had to steal the Gov'nor's new mare--isn't she a beauty?"

"Oh, say," he went on, "but that is a good one--he has bought her for
somebody he is stuck on--can't say who--and I heard him tell Jim not
to let anybody get on her back.

"Well,"--he laughed--"she certainly has a fine back. I stole her out
and galloped right straight here.

"You ought to own her,"--he went on flippantly--pinching playfully at
the lobe of her ear--"her name is Coquette."

Then he tried to kiss her again.

"Harry!" she said, pulling away--