He found Odalite waiting for him in the hall. She was dressed for a walk.

“Let us go over to Greenbushes this morning, Le. It is such a fine morning. We can walk through the woods, and rest on the bridge at Chincapin Creek, and then we shall not be too tired when we get to the house,” she said in so many words, but all the while she spoke her eyes asked, without words:

“What did mamma say?”

“Happy thought! We will go, dearest. I will be ready in a trice! And we can talk as we go along!” replied Le, with assumed gayety, as he pulled down his overcoat from its hook and began to put it on.

In two minutes they passed out of the front door, crossed the lawn, and entered the wood by the north gate.

“Now, then, what did mamma say?” eagerly demanded Odalite, as they went along the wooded path leading to the creek.

“She says, my darling, that I may write to you all the time I am away, as I would write to my sister, if I had one; but that I must not draw you into any engagement to marry—or words to that effect,” replied Le, putting the hard case as gently as he could.

“I thought she would do that,” said Odalite, in a sorrowful and subdued tone.

“But, dearest dear! that does not prevent my binding myself to you in the most solemn manner for life and until death, and after death and to all eternity, if one may be permitted to do so. And here I swear, under this blue sky and bright moon and in the presence of high heaven, that I will be true to you, Odalite, dearest Odalite, all the days of my life in this world and in the next, forever and ever! But yet I must not bind you by any promise, darling?”

“You do not need to, Le,” she answered, sweetly and solemnly. “You do not need to bind me by a promise. You know my heart, Le. And you know that you can trust me! No word that might not pass between a brother and a sister will pass between us, for we shall know each other’s hearts, and that shall suffice and satisfy us until we meet again, shall it not?”

“Yes, Odalite! Yes, dearest dear! Until we meet again! And when we meet again, after my long voyage, by all that is holy and sacred in love and in life neither man nor devil shall part us!” warmly exclaimed Leonidas.

“Oh, you mean things!” exclaimed a merry voice behind them.

Leonidas and Odalite turned at once to see two little figures in buttoned coats and poke bonnets running toward them, followed by the dog.

“Oh, you mean things, you!” continued Wynnette, “to sneak for a walk to Greenbushes, without telling me and Elva a word about it!”

“But Joshua told us—he did, indeed! You forgot to untie him when you started, Odalite, and he set up such a howl of anguish and despair that I had to run out to see what was the matter with him,” said Elva.

“And I had to follow, and I found him telling Elf such a tragic tale of how you and Le had gone off and left him tied up, without even looking behind to bid him good-by, that his heart was quite broken, and he had been trying to hang himself on his own chain ever since!” added Wynnette.

“So, you see, I unchained him. But, do you know, he wouldn’t go without us? He kept running on a little way and then running back and begging and praying of us to come so hard that at last Wynnette and I went in and put our bonnets and coats and came after you,” said Elva.

“Joshua knew you were going to Greenbushes, and he wanted to go with you. So did we when he told us where you were gone. You don’t deserve such devotion; but you have got it anyway,” concluded Wynnette.

It seemed rather hard that the children should interrupt the tÊte-À-tÊte of lovers who had come out of the house to saunter through the woods on purpose to be alone, and who were so soon to be separated for so long a time; but Leonidas and Odalite took the matter in perfectly good humor, and the four walked on amiably together.

They reached Greenbushes in good time, and had a treat of sweet cider, gingerbread and Indian walnuts from Aunt Molly.

And after a good rest they set out to return to Mondreer, where they arrived in time for dinner.

In the meanwhile Mrs. Force was subjected to another interview. Leonidas and Odalite had scarcely left the house, and Mrs. Force had scarcely settled down to her embroidery, when there came a gentle tap at the door.

“Come in,” said Mrs. Force.

Miss Meeke entered, her pretty, pale face slightly flushed, her usually quiet demeanor somewhat disturbed.

“Can I speak to you alone for a few moments, ma’am?” she inquired, rather nervously.

“Certainly, my dear. Take that easy chair,” said the lady, in some surprise, as she motioned her visitor to be seated.

Miss Meeke sat down, but continued perfectly silent and extremely ill at ease.

Mrs. Force observed her for some minutes, and seeing no prospect of her speaking, inquired gently:

“What can I do for you, my dear?”

“I—I——” began the governess, taking up the corner of her black, silk apron and beginning to scrutinize it very attentively, while her nervousness increased every instant—“I—do not know—that you can do anything for me, ma’am; but—but—but——”

“Well, my dear?” inquired the lady, kindly, seeing that the governess had paused in her embarrassment.

“I think I ought—that it is my duty to give—to say—to tell——” began the poor girl, falteringly, and then coming to another dead halt.

“Can I help you out in any way? Are you in any difficulty? Have you any complaint to make? Speak, my dear. Do not be afraid,” said the lady.

“Oh, no—but—I am going to be married!” suddenly blurted out the girl, as by a heroic effort, and then she flushed crimson over cheeks, neck and brow.

“Oh!” exclaimed Mrs. Force, not very much surprised, after all, for she had long seen to what purpose the visits of the little, red-haired and freckle-faced Dr. Ingle tended.

Then, recovering herself, she arose and kissed the young governess tenderly, saying:

“I congratulate you with all my heart, dear. Dr. Ingle is a very worthy young man. Your intended is Dr. Ingle, I suppose?” said the lady, suddenly remembering that the governess had mentioned no name.

“Yes,” said Miss Meeke, recovering herself, now that the ice had been broken.

“Then I am very glad, for your sake. And very sorry for the children’s,” she added.

Then Miss Meeke began to cry.

“I cannot bear to leave Wynnette and Elva,” she sobbed.

“You will not be parted from them, dear,” kindly suggested Mrs. Force. “You will be our neighbor, you know. You will come to see us very frequently, I hope. And as for the children, they will run after you so much that I expect you will wish them a thousand miles off.”

“Oh, no! Never! never! Dear, bright Wynnette and fond Elva!”

“When your time comes you will be married from this house, my dear, as if you were a daughter of the family. And if you have any friends or relatives whom you would like to have present, give me their names and addresses, and I will invite them to come and stay for the wedding,” said the lady.

“Oh, madam! how can I thank you? But your kindness to-day is only a continuation of the kindness you have shown me during the whole seven years I have lived at Mondreer. And always you have treated me as a daughter of the house. And my pupils have been as younger sisters. Ah! It seems ungrateful in me to leave them before they are grown up and out of my care.”

“Do not think of that, my dear. Marriage is the natural destiny of a young woman. You have given enough of your youth to my children, and now that ‘a good man and true’ like Dr. Ingle loves you and wins your love, and offers you marriage, you should marry.”

“I have been very happy here with you and through you, madam,” said the governess.

“If it is so, as I hope and believe it is, it will be a very pleasant memory for us all. Do your pupils know of your engagement?”

“Oh, no! And I do so much dread to tell them!”

“Well, do not let them look forward to the marriage as a parting. Talk to them of your new home, and the happy times they will have in visiting you,” said Mrs. Force.

Miss Meeke smiled and blushed, and said:

“I was to go to-morrow to inspect a new house in the village that the doctor was thinking of taking, if I should like it. Perhaps the children might go with me. Shall I ask them?”

“Certainly. They would be delighted. It will be a good opportunity also in which to break the news to them. And, without doubt, they will be very prompt in giving their valuable counsel on the subject. But tell me, my dear, when is this happy event to come off?”

“Early in January. That is to say, if, in the meantime, you can suit yourself with another governess, for I should not think of leaving you until you had supplied my place.”

“I should not think of supplying your place with a new governess, my dear. Indeed, I have other plans. I have been thinking of going to Washington to spend the winter. If you were to remain with us, I should take you; but, as you are to be married, I shall, instead of engaging a private governess, place my children at some good finishing school—— Well——? Who is there?” suddenly demanded the lady, as a loud rap sounded on the room door.

“Why, it’s me! Who should it be?” said the voice of Mrs. Anglesea, as that jovial lady burst into the room, exclaiming: “I was moped all but to death, all alone by my own self in the big parlor ever since breakfast. As well been at Wild Cats’!”

“Oh, come in, Mrs. Anglesea. I do, indeed, owe you an apology. I hope you will excuse me, but—I have been particularly engaged all the forenoon,” said the mistress of Mondreer, as she arose and placed a chair for her guest.

“Thanky’! I hope I haven’t interrupted you?” said the lady from the gold mines, dropping into the seat.

“Oh, no. We are quite at leisure now,” replied Mrs. Force.

“I wouldn’t have disturbed you by coming here, only I declare to man, I have been in every room in the house looking for some one to talk to, without finding a soul. And I even went into the kitchen, to talk to the cook, but she was out, and there wasn’t a soul there, though the pot was b‘ilin’ over, and the goose was burning in the roaster. So I sat down on a stool on the hearth, and basted the goose and turned it, and much thanks I got for my pains. For presently, when the cook come back with a passel of cold mince pies to be put in the oven and warmed—she had been to the storeroom to fetch ’em—she as much as told me my room was better’n my company, or words to them effects. Leastways, she did say as ladies what was visitors hadn’t no business in her kitchen. So then I come right in here.”

“Our cook only wished to show her respect for you, and to do you honor; but, being a very simple and ignorant negro woman, she did not know how to do so politely and properly,” soothingly replied the lady of the house.

“What I would like is to be useful, and to do somethink to help earn my keep. But, with so many folks about the place. I don’t see as there’s any room for me, or anythink to do; so I reckon I had better vamoose the ranch,” said the lady from Wild Cats’, but without the least loss of temper.

“I beg you to believe that we are all very much pleased to have you remain with us just as long as you can make it convenient to do so,” replied Mrs. Force, with sincere hospitality; for she had nothing but good feeling toward the honest woman who was her chance guest.

“Thanky’. I knowed that. But, you see, I don’t want to dress up in my best clothes every day, and sit in the big parlor, with my hands crossed before me in idleness, all day long. It seems like a sinful wasting of time, in one like me, who for cooking, washing and ironing, or scrubbing, sweeping, and dusting, hasn’t her betters in this univarsal world!” said the colonel’s wife.

“You want something to employ your time——” began Mrs. Force.

“You bet!” interjected her guest.

“Well, then, suppose you let me teach you how to do this silk embroidery. It is beautiful and attractive fancywork, and very easy to learn,” said Mrs. Force, holding out her frame, on which was stretched the half-finished cover of a foot cushion.

“What! that rubbish?” disdainfully inquired the Wild Cats’ lady. “No, thanky’! You can buy a great deal prettier things than that in any of the fancy stores for less money than the things cost to make it with, let alone the lost time! No, ma’am! If I must waste all the days of my life, let it be in honest, barefaced idleness, like I’m a-doing of now, and not in pretending to work—playing at work, like you ladies here! I beg all your pardons! I never meant no offense, but I’m bound to tell the truth!”

“No offense is taken; but we think our handiwork is a little more real, fine, delicate and substantial than the machine work sold in shops,” replied Mrs. Force, in some delicate, deprecating defense of her embroidery.

Before Mrs. Anglesea could reply, the door was opened by Mr. Force, who had just come in from his daily ride around his plantation.

He greeted all the ladies present, and the conversation became general.

A little later on, Leonidas and the girls came in from their walk, and the family party separated to get ready for dinner, and at the usual hour met again around the table.