* * * *

The gayety of the Indian Summer dance was now at its height. The mellow
sunlight fell straight down through the arching green branches of the
bordering trees. The earth, still warm with the summer's fires, lifted a
cool face to the soft breeze. The dancers growing tired and hungry about
noon, sat down on the greensward in little groups, while the baskets
were taken from their hiding-places and the simple feast was soon
spread. The black men served it with the coffee which they had heated
over the campfire built at some distance in the forest. The homespun
linen of the table-cloths looked very white on the dark green of the
rich grass. But the single square of fine damask from Ruth's basket was
not whiter than its humble neighbors, and she did not think of her finer
linen or richer food. With Paul Colbert seated on the grass at her right
hand, and David at her left, she took what was given her, knowing only
that she was quite content and perfectly happy. She was indeed so happy
that she was less gay than usual, for the greatest happiness makes least
noise. She listened to all that was said, saying almost nothing herself.
Paul's eyes hardly left her face, and he instantly observed that a
shadow suddenly clouded it, the same shadow which had fallen over it on
the evening before. Turning his eyes in the direction of her gaze, he
saw William Pressley standing not far away. He did not know that the
white-haired gentleman who stood beside the young man was Philip Alston,
but he noted that the shadow quickly left Ruth's face at sight of the
older man, when, brightening and smiling, she beckoned the newcomers to
approach. And he also saw what she seemed not to see, that the older man
turned a frowning face on the younger, and said something which was not
cordially received. Had he known William Pressley better, he would have
seen the dignified protest that was in every line of his large
slow-moving figure as he followed Philip Alston across the wide open
space to Ruth's side. To her, William's very step said as plain as words
could have spoken that he was used to being misunderstood, but none the
less sure of having done his whole duty. She looked up with the little
uneasy flutter which this manner of his always caused her. She so craved
love and approval that a dark look made her tender heart ache, even
though she was unconscious of having done anything to deserve it. This
was nearly always the state