dwriting was Garda's. The Doctor
sat for a moment staring at it; then he put the note back in his pocket
and rode on; even there, where there was no one to see him but the
birds, his face betrayed nothing.

He went towards the Levels. Reaching them, he crossed to the point where
the south-eastern wood came up to their border, and, dismounting, tied
his horse and entered the wood by the easterly path. Passing the pool,
which glimmered dimly in the shade, he came to the long straight vista
which led to the bend; here, when half-way across, he saw a figure
coming towards him, and a moment later he recognized it--Garda.

He doffed his hat with his usual ceremony. "Ah, you have been out taking
the air?" he said, pleasantly.

"Yes," replied Garda. "But I'm going back now."

"Did you go far?" He spoke with his customary kindly interest. While
speaking he put on his glasses and looked down the path; there was no
one in sight.

"No," Garda answered; "only a little way beyond here. I had thought of
going over to Madam Giron's to bid a second good-by to Lucian Spenser;
then I changed my mind. I'm going home now without seeing him; that is,
I've _started_ for home," she added, half smiling, half sighing; "I
don't know whether I shall get there!"

"We will go together," said the Doctor, offering her his arm; "I shall
give myself the pleasure of accompanying you, if you will permit it, I
think I have had walk enough for to-day." He stopped a moment, however,
to admire the size of the oaks, he delivered quite an eloquent
apostrophe to Nature, as she reveals herself "in bark;" then he turned,
and they went back towards East Angels, walking slowly onward, and
talking as they went.

That is, the Doctor talked. And his conversation had never been more
delightful. He spoke of the society of the city of Charleston in
colonial times; he described the little church at Goose Greek, now
buried in woods, but still preserving its ancient tombs and hatchments;
he enumerated the belles, each a toast far and wide, who had reigned in
the manor-houses on the Ashley and Cooper rivers. Coming down to modern
times, he even said a few words about Lucian Spenser. "You find him
agreeable; yes--yes; he _has_ rather an engaging wit of the light modern
sort. But it's superficial, it has no solidity; it has, as I may say, no
proper _form_. When you have seen more of the world, my child, you will
know better how to estimate such qualities at their true w