ken him beneath their
roof. Usually he met it half way, but now, with an indifference that in
a moment of less excitement would have been pronounced, he passed her
and caught Marian's hand, crying:

"This _is_ a surprise! Did you drop out of the trees?"

"That savors horribly of monkeys, Jeb," she laughed, quietly withdrawing
her hand. "You used to do better!"

"I meant to ask how long since you dropped down from heaven, angel," he
smiled. "My word, but you're looking fit! For a three times winner, you
just about take the cake!"

"Cake, dear?" Miss Veemie sweetly inquired. "Certainly you shall!" And,
turning, she hurried busily into the house, Miss Sallie following with
an expression about her mouth which said as plainly as words that her
well-meaning sister would not emerge with cake, or anything else, to
interrupt a _tete-a-tete_ so promising.

Jeb waited until they had quite disappeared, then he crossed to Marian,
asking soberly:

"Why did you run away, just when you promised to tell me what I wanted
to hear?--and why didn't you answer my letters?"

"I wonder," she said, turning toward the flower beds, "if the tulips
will be in bloom soon! I'd so love to see them again!"

He laughed tenderly, but persisted:

"Why did you run away?--why didn't you answer my letters?"

"Oh, those things happened two years ago, Jeb. Haven't you advanced at
all?--do you always live in the past like a silly old man? You didn't
write but three times, anyway!"

"Good Lord, how many times did you expect me to write without getting an
answer?" he cried.

"Oh," she answered indifferently, "as many times as you thought it was
worth doing. I might have answered the fourth; one can never tell about
those things. Miss Sallie says you're getting ready to fight, Jeb. Are
you thinking of going over to join the British or French?"

"Not for me," he laughed, disregarding, somewhat to her surprise, the
subject of letters and answers. "They can peg along with their own
scrap; I'm getting in shape for this country, if it becomes involved!
You ought to see the hikes I take, Marian! Twelve miles in a
forenoon--easy! And my shooting is really--look here!" He began fumbling
in his pocket and brought out several paper targets which he unfolded
and held before her. "What d'you think of that for three hundred
yards!--five centers! Here's the four hundred!--look, Marian! Isn't it a
peach? By Jove, if ever I get a crack at those Huns, there'll be a