' ter speak wid you, _Miss_ Hertha."

"Who?" Hertha asked.

Pomona rolled her eyes and grinned. Her sides shook as though with
repressed laughter. "I can' guess, honey, an' he don' gib his name."

"I won't see any one," Hertha said angrily.

"You's mighty hard on folks now you's white." Pomona did not go away but
continued to stand in the door grinning at the girl who had recently
been a servant like herself. "Ain't yer gwine ter do nuthin' fer him?
Seems like ater all dat huggin' an' kissin' in de orange grobe----"

"Come in!" Hertha drew the woman into the room and shut the door behind
them. Her face was drawn with fear.

"Don' you worry, chile," the black woman said kindly. "I won't tell on
yer; but I's Mr. Lee's frien' an' I ain't gwine ter see him put about,
not for no white-faced brat."

Hertha's eyes were very bright as she looked the big woman in the face.
"Pomona," she said, "you must help me. Go down to him and ask him not to
try to speak to me. Tell him that I ask him as a gentleman not to try to
see me alone. I'm going away in three days, it isn't long for him to do
as I ask. Go down to him, Pomona, and bring his answer back to me."

She spoke with such earnestness that the colored woman was impressed,
and muttering, "I'll t'ink about it," turned to go.

Hertha ran to her and clutched her arm. "Do it for me," she whispered.

In a few minutes the woman came back. "He's gone," she said. "Went down
de road an' he says ter tell yer he won't trouble yer agin."

Then she closed the door with much dignity.

Through the open window came a gentle rustle of the wind among the
live-oaks. Hertha stood in the middle of the room, her head drooping,
the shadows dark under her tired eyes. She felt utterly alone. The old
world was lost to her and she had closed the door upon the new.

Going to the window she looked beyond the oaks and down the road, and in
the warm afternoon light saw the man she loved slowly walking away.
Moving across the room she put her hand upon the knob of the door; but
after a moment's hesitation she turned back, a determined look on her
face.

"Reckon I won't trouble him again," she echoed.

CHAPTER XII

In the dim twilight of a November morning, before the sun was up, a
young lady stood outside the Williams' cabin. She wore a dark blue
traveling suit and a small hat set stylishly on her curling brown hair.
In her right hand was a little leather hand-bag and in her left a ne