ar, incredulous whistle, and called over
to Jane: "Did you hear this boaster?"

But the whistle had a more subtle intention than emphasis, and within
doors Uncle Zack, dozing in a kitchen chair, became at once active. This
newly inaugurated signal immeasurably pleased the Colonel, who could not
himself whistle.

"Do either of you know it's Sunday?" she asked.

"By Jove, now, it isn't, is it?" Brent looked at her in concern.

"And I'm going to church," she continued. "Would you like to go,
Colonel?"

The old gentleman cleared his throat and began searching closely over
the table for his glasses, which weren't there.

"I should say he's just about crazy to go," Brent watched him. "Don't
speak for a minute, or he'll die of joy. How ingenious you are in
planning his amusements!"

"More amusement is coming, I should judge, from the dulcetness of your
whistle," she drily observed.

The men exchanged sheepish glances. Brent laughed.

"Admitted," he said. "But it was not you we were trying to deceive. If
you tell us how you knew, I'll tie the Colonel on a horse and let you
lead him to the altar. She must be a witch, sir!"

"She is, indeed. A charming one, who bewitched me the very first moment
I laid eyes on her--and there's been no change in my condition since,
madam," the old gentleman bowed to her with courtly grace.

"Then," Brent tried to corner him, "until you admit yourself de-charmed,
church this morning is your only alternative."

"It would be a very good place for your soul, young man," he sternly
retorted. "When I was a gay spark, ladies of--of almost the same
loveliness," he bowed again, "were kept busy weeks in advance accepting
my invitations to church, sir! The very rocks and rills of our beloved
Commonwealth would strike me dead, sir, if I had permitted so
enchanting an opportunity to escape!" And once more he bowed low before
her.

"Mistress Jane," Brent sprang to his feet and bent double with an
abandon that the Colonel's old bones would have resented, "will you
adorn my buggy as far as the meetin'-house?"

"You overwhelm me," she murmured.

"And, will you tell us, O gracious bewitcher, how you knew what I was
whistling for?"

"Help me up and I will," her hands went out to him. "When you whistled,
Uncle Zack yelled: 'I'se fixin' 'em!'"

"I shall have that nigger shot," the Colonel cried in delight. "Suppose
poor, dear Lizzie had been here!"

"What time shall we start?" she turned to Bre