hem."

He did make them. His voice rang sharply. "Get the dogs away, Meade, and
stop digging."

They were too eager at first to heed him. Eve hung on his arm, but he
shook her off. "We don't like things like that down here. Our foxes are
too rare."

It was a motley group which gathered later at the club for the hunt
breakfast. There were fox-hunting farmers born on the land, of sturdy
yeoman stock, and careless of form. There were the lords of newly
acquired acres, who rode carefully on little saddles with short stirrups
in the English style.

There were the descendants of the great old planters, daring, immensely
picturesque. There was Eve's crowd, trained for the sport, and at their
ease.

A big fire burned on the hearth. A copper-covered table held steaming
dishes. Another table groaned under its load of cold meats and cheese. On
an ancient mahogany sideboard were various bottles and bowls of punch.

Old songs were sung and old stories told. Brinsley beamed on everybody
with his face like a round full moon. There were other round and
red-faced gentlemen who, warmed by the fire and the punch, twinkled like
unsteady old stars.

Eve was the pivotal center of all the hilarity. She sat on the table and
served the punch. Her coat was off, and in her silk blouse and riding
breeches she was like a lovely boy. The men crowded around her. Pip,
always at her elbow, delivered an admiring opinion. "No one can hold a
candle to you, Eve."

Richard was out of it. He sat quietly in a corner with David, old Jo at
their feet, and watched the others. Eve had been angry with him for his
interference at Crossroads. "I didn't know you were a molly-coddle,
Dicky," she had said, "and I wanted the brush."

She was punishing him now by paying absolutely no attention to him. She
was punishing him, too, by making herself conspicuous, which she knew he
hated. The scene was not to his liking. The women of his household,
Nancy, Sulie and Anne, had had a fastidious sense of what belonged to
them as ladies. Eve had not that sense. As he sat there, it occurred to
him that things were moving to some stupendous climax. He and Eve
couldn't go on like this.

* * * * *

Far up in the hills a man was in danger of bleeding to death. He had cut
himself while butchering a pig. The doctor was called.

Richard, making his way through the shouting and singing crowd which
surrounded Eve, told her, "I shall have to go