s. Then you won't have to register
or explain. Tell him anything will do, and please to hurry!"

He did not hurry. Nobody hurries in Claxon. It was twelve o'clock
before the buggy was at the door, a basket of lunch in it, and
good-bys said; and giving a last look around the big, dusty, sunshiny
room with cobwebs on its walls and furniture in it that would have
made a collector sick with desire, I walked out on the porch, and
with me went the three dogs which had been stretched in front of the
big log fire. Together we went down the steps.

Tucking a robe around me, the old gentleman nodded to Selwyn. "Don't
let your wife get cold, suh, and don't stay out too long. The sun's
deceiving and it ain't as warm as it looks." Being deaf, he spoke
loudly. "The battlefields are to your left about half a mile from
the creek with a water-oak hanging over it, and nigh about two miles
from here. You can't miss 'em. Over yonder"--he pointed to the top
of a modest mountain--"is where we had a signal station during the
war. The view from there can't be beat this side of heaven. I ain't
sure the battlements of heaven itself--"

But our horse had started and Selwyn, looking at me, laughed.
"Battlefields have their interest, but not to-day. It's nice, isn't
it, to be--just by ourselves and all the world away? Are you all
right? I have orders to keep my wife warm."

"She's very warm. Where are we going?" I turned from Selwyn's eyes.

"I don't know. Don't care. It is enough that we are to be together."

"Wouldn't you feel better if you said 'I told you so'? Any one would
want to say it. It was a pretty long trip to take unnecessarily, and
as we haven't been of service we needn't have come. I'm sorry--"

"I'm not." Selwyn, paying no attention to the horse, who had turned
into the road leading to the top of the mountain, kept his eyes still
on me. "I don't deserve what has come of our venture, but I shall
enjoy it the more, perhaps, because of undeserving. It is just 'we
two' to-day. I get so mortally tired of people--"

"I don't. I like people. Perhaps if I only knew one sort I would
get tired of them. I used to think my people were those I was born
among, but I'm beginning to glimpse a little that my family is much
larger than I thought, and that all people are my people. Still--"
I laughed and drew in a deep breath of pine-scented air.

"Still--?" Selwyn waited.

"It _is_ nice to get away from eve