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"Are you not a New Orleans boy?" she asked as I lifted my képi and drew rein.

I made no reply. He looked momentous, leaned to me sidewise with a hand horizontally across his mouth, and whispered a name. It was new to me. "Charlie Toliver?" I murmured, for we were at the tent door.

The patient gentleman smiled again as he said, "Oh--Gholson can attend to that."

"I knew it! I knew it was her! Ah, you rogue, you know it was her!"

But Mrs. Wall protested. No, no, her hospitality first, and a basket of refreshments to be stowed in the vehicle, besides. "Why, that'll sa-ave ti-ime. You-all goin' to be supprised to find how hungry y'all ah, befo' you come to yo' journey's en', to-night, and them col' victuals goin' taste pow'ful fi-ine!"

"Why, what does all this mean?" asked Miss Harper amid her nieces' cries.

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On the crest of a ridge we slackened speed and my fellow-traveller lifted her veil and asked exultantly what those two splendid stars were that overhung yonder fringe of woods so low and so close to each other. The less brilliant one, I said, the red one, was Mars.

"Yes, I know. But you don't know even how your mother is acquainted with her."

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