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But, after all, fortune was merciful, and I was gone; the Major had summoned me--his brother had come. I went circuitously and alone. As I started, some fellow writhing on the grass cried, "Charlie Tol--oh, this is better than a tcharade!" and a flash of divination enlightened me. While I went I burned with shame, rage and nervous exhaustion; the name Scott Gholson had gasped in my ear was the name of her in the curtained wagon, and I cursed the day in which I had heard of Charlotte Oliver.

"Law, you hain't!" cried Mrs. Wall, smiling back as she jounced. "If you air, the Majo's sisteh's got written awdehs fo' you."

I laughed insolently. The young ladies sparkled, and so did Miss Harper, as she asked him who had been the proxy.

"My dear madam, you don't realize ours. We don't want to imprison women."

I knew it at a glance. "It's Oliver's," I said.

I gave him no pledge but a look.

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