uty and a certain winsomeness that even
Charlotte was beginning to yield to.

For this strange baptism of white fire changed Loring in all respects.
His egotism shrivelled under it. He glowed with fellow kindliness
towards every one. The homely, simple life of the Macons became full of
enchantment to him. He did all sorts of little odd jobs for Charlotte,
such as riding three miles out of his way to post a forgotten letter, or
nailing hinges on the pigeon-house door, when there was no carpenter to
be had for days.

Winks thought him a delightful person. He had the most glorious rides
around the lawn, on Loring's hunters, every time that he came to
Sweet-Waters. Even Bobby grew a little more tolerant. He, too, enjoyed
these ambles on the big, shining beasts, that rattled their nostrils
with high spirits, and stepped mincing sideways, as Loring walked at the
bridle-rein. The boys straddled proudly, their small legs jutting wide
apart, on the huge slanting shoulders of "Omicron" or "Proud Aleck."

Loring begged Sophy to try the splendid red hunter that he had bought
from Macfarlane.

So she followed the hounds on Proud Aleck, and if Loring had adored her
before, he could scarcely keep his love in hand when he saw her riding
so gallantly at the tricky snake-fences, mounted on the glittering
blood-red horse.

And, when the run was over, came the homeward ride with her, across
twilit pasture lands and fallow. They would select low gaps in the
fences--then over, side by side, like birds. There would be the reek of
ploughed earth and wood smoke in their nostrils. Sometimes a rabbit
would leap up under the horses' feet, making them swerve, snorting. They
would see the little white, fluffy scut go zigzagging through the yellow
broom-sedge.

As winter drew on, and they became more intimate, she read him some
bits of her childish scribblings that she had discovered, put away by
her mother in an old chest. They made deliciously funny reading in the
firelit hours of tea-time. One line from a long, sprawling tragedy in
blank verse came to be a saying with Loring:

"'Ah well to rob a comet of its tail
To make the moon a wig!'"

he used to quote dramatically, when anything seemed impracticable. He
_was_ a dear playmate! Sophy became very fond of him indeed. And Loring,
for his part, loved every member of the household, especially Judge
Macon. There was such a taking contrast between the genial humour of the
man and his