s a relief.
There was no good, as her mother said, to rebel against the inevitable;
and while she would miss her brother, who had grown to be a companion in
thought and interests, and who yet could never outgrow his place as her
baby, it could not be right to look upon his absence as a calamity like
sickness or death. So she gave her little laugh and her mother looked at
her with pleasure and relief.

"Dere goes Ellen," Aunt Maggie said, as her elder daughter went past
them the sooner to get to her work. "You an' I believes as de door o'
heben's open ter dem as walks slow. I's glad you kin laugh, honey. We
ain't lose Tom fer good. An' soon de winter'll come, an' moe folks
a-staying at de great house, an' den de summer an' de dear boy home
ag'in."

Talking on in slow, comfortable phrases, stopping often to get her
breath, Hertha's mammy walked with her among the pines to their tidy
front yard where golden glow and asters told of the autumn.

"It seems later than it is, doesn't it?" said Hertha, "we've been up so
long. I think I'll go to Miss Patty right now."

There were two paths to the great house. The well-traveled one led past
a number of cabins, and ended near the kitchen door. It was the shorter
but Hertha chose a more attractive way among the pines to where a
cypress marked the beginning of the orange grove. She had taken this
route long before Lee Merryvale's return; and while he had closed it
generally to dwellers among the pines, Miss Patty assured her maid she
could use it as much as she wished.

She had only walked a little way when she saw Merryvale himself
examining his cherished possessions.

"Come over here, won't you?" he called out. "There's no one up at the
house yet."

Hertha went shyly toward him. He was a handsome man with reddish gold
hair, clear eyes, and a glowing skin. His hat was off, he wore a soft
shirt with collar thrown open, and altogether looked an attractive
combination of the farmer and the gentleman.

As she came up he said sympathetically, "You must be feeling pretty
badly to-day at saying good-by to Tom."

"Yes," said Hertha, and added almost confidentially, "you see, Tom's the
baby. I took care of him when he wasn't any longer than that,"
indicating the length with her hands.

"You couldn't have been much longer yourself."

She shook her head smiling and then turned to go away.

"Can't we have a little talk?" he asked. "Don't run into the house such
a wonderful morni