fer."

"Am I to speak with perfect freedom? I believe that is the best and
truest basis for friendship, and I hope we may grow to be friends."

The partly alarmed glance which she darted at him showed only the
habitual expression, half-smiling, half-grave, wholly genuine.

"The truth, always, and straight from the shoulder," she answered.
"Deliver me from men or women who are constantly beating about the bush
and perpetually feeling their way."

"Bravo!" he exclaimed, softly, and laughed--a chest laugh which thrilled
her. "If everyone followed that maxim we would always know where our
neighbours stood. Then this is the thing I wish now--to go have a look
at The Prince's new stable. It had best be done by daylight, and--"

"Why, certainly."

She took a sunbonnet from the hat-rack near by, and turned to the long
side porch back of the hall.

"Come with me. It is not very far away."

They passed the length of the porch side by side, silently. Some steps
brought them to the ground, and as Glenning cast his eyes about he saw a
portly figure in blue calico and bandana swathed head disappearing up
another short flight of steps at the other end of the house.

"That's Aunt Frances," explained Julia, smiling at the precipitate
manner in which the old negress had sought the shelter of her kitchen.
"She is very shy for one of her age, and she is especially 'jubus' of
young men. I don't know why, for I'm sure they are not near so critical
as the young women. But she is faithful, and wonderfully watchful of me.
I love her devotedly. Yonder is her consort, Peter, hard at work."

The smoke-house was not over fifty yards from the mansion, and was
reached along a walk of huge flat stones. The way to all the
out-buildings was paved in this manner. Peter was evidently hung on the
horns of a dilemma as the two young people came up. He removed his
tattered hat deferentially, greeted them with two profound salaams, and
plunged into a recital of his woes, using the saw he held in one hand by
way of emphasis and illustration.

"De stable hit bu'n, 'n' de Prince got to hab a home. Massa 'low de
smoke-house wuz de only t'ing lef' fittin', 'n' hyar I been all day
tryin' to wuk out de riddle. Dar's de do', 'n' dar's de Prince, hitched
to dat freestone peach tree, 'n' de question whut's 'plexin' my mind is,
how I gwi' git 'im thu dat do'!"

He ceased with his head on one side, and rheumy eyes which glared
defiantly at the young man fro