eparing for a nap.

On the whole the members of the party enjoyed themselves from the moment
they drew out of Jersey City to the afternoon when, in four carriages,
they rolled beneath the curious eyes of all Toomsville and swept under
the shadowed rampart of the swamp.

"The Christmas" was coming and all the Southern world was busy. Few
people were busier than Bles and Zora. Slowly, wonderfully for them,
heaven bent in these dying days of the year and kissed the earth, and
the tremor thrilled all lands and seas. Everything was good, all things
were happy, and these two were happiest of all. Out of the shadows and
hesitations of childhood they had stepped suddenly into manhood and
womanhood, with firm feet and uplifted heads. All the day that was
theirs they worked, picking the Silver Fleece--picking it tenderly and
lovingly from off the brown and spent bodies which had so utterly
yielded life and beauty to the full fruition of this long and silken
tendril, this white beauty of the cotton. November came and flew, and
still the unexhausted field yielded its frothing fruit.

Today seemed doubly glorious, for Bles had spoken of their marriage;
with twined hands and arms, and lips ever and again seeking their mates,
they walked the leafy way.

Unconscious, rapt, they stepped out into the Big Road skirting the edge
of the swamp. Why not? Was it not the King's Highway? And Love was King.
So they talked on, unknowing that far up the road the Cresswell coaches
were wheeling along with precious burdens. In the first carriage were
Mrs. Grey and Mrs. Vanderpool, Mr. Cresswell and Miss Taylor. Mrs.
Vanderpool was lolling luxuriously, but Mrs. Grey was a little stiff
from long travel and sat upright. Mr. Cresswell looked clean-cut and
handsome, and Miss Taylor seemed complacent and responsible. The dying
of the day soothed them all insensibly. Groups of dark little children
passed them as they neared the school, staring with wide eyes and
greeting timidly.

"There seems to be marrying and giving in marriage," laughed Mrs.
Vanderpool.

"Not very much," said Mr. Cresswell drily.

"Well, at least plenty of children."

"Plenty."

"But where are the houses?" asked Mrs. Grey.

"Perhaps in the swamp," said Mrs. Vanderpool lightly, looking up at the
sombre trees that lined the left.

"They live where they please and do as they please," Cresswell
explained; to which Mrs. Vanderpool added: "Like other animals."

Mary Taylor ope