he smaller path to the corner house.

The door was open to the fragrant afternoon breeze wafted through the
rose and jessamine. So also was a side door opening from the hall into
a long parlor or sitting-room that ran the whole width of the house.
Courtland entered it. It was prettily furnished, but everything had the
air of freshness and of being uncharacteristically new. It was empty,
but a faint hammering was audible on the rear wall of the house, through
the two open French windows at the back, curtained with trailing vines,
which gave upon a sunlit courtyard. Courtland walked to the window. Just
before it, on the ground, stood a small light ladder, which he gently
put aside to gain a better view of the courtyard as he put on his hat,
and stepped out of the open window.

In this attitude he suddenly felt his hat tipped from his head, followed
almost instantaneously by a falling slipper, and the distinct impression
of a very small foot on the crown of his head. An indescribable
sensation passed over him. He hurriedly stepped back into the room, just
as a small striped-stockinged foot was as hastily drawn up above the top
of the window with the feminine exclamation, "Good gracious me!"

Lingering for an instant, only to assure himself that the fair speaker
had secured her foothold and was in no danger of falling, Courtland
snatched up his hat, which had providentially fallen inside the room,
and retreated ingloriously to the other end of the parlor. The voice
came again from the window, and struck him as being very sweet and
clear:--

"Sophy, is that YOU?"

Courtland discreetly retired to the hall. To his great relief a voice
from the outside answered, "Whar, Miss Sally?"

"What did yo' move the ladder for? Yo' might have killed me."

"Fo' God, Miss Sally, I didn't move no ladder!"

"Don't tell me, but go down and get my slipper. And bring up some more
nails."

Courtland waited silently in the hall. In a few moments he heard a heavy
footstep outside the rear window. This was his opportunity. Re-entering
the parlor somewhat ostentatiously, he confronted a tall negro girl
who was passing through the room carrying a tiny slipper in her hand.
"Excuse me," he said politely, "but I could not find any one to announce
me. Is Miss Dows at home?"

The girl instantly whipped the slipper behind her. "Is yo' wanting Miss
Mirandy Dows," she asked with great dignity, "oah Miss Sally Dows--her
niece? Miss Mirandy's bin go