and rode on beneath the oaks to the house door. The light shone from the
library. When a negro had taken his horse, the younger Cary entered to
find his brother sitting before a mass of books and papers, wine on the
table, and a favourite dog asleep upon the hearth. "You are late," said
the elder, looking up with a smile. "Fontenoy, of course?"

"Fontenoy, of course. Ludwell, I've won!"

The elder brother pushed back his chair, rose, and, going to the
younger, put both hands upon his shoulders. "Fair. I'm glad! I told you
that you would. She's the loveliest black-eyed lady--and as for you, you
deserve your fortune! _Monsieur mon frere_, I make you my
congratulations!"

"What a blaze of light you've got in here! All the way home my horse's
hoofs were saying, _Unity Cary--Unity Cary_."

Ludwell laughed. "You're drunk with joy. The room is not brightly lit.
Sit down and tell me all about it."

"'Twas underneath the catalpa tree. We quarrelled--"

"As usual."

"Page had been there, reading aloud,--reading Eloisa to Abelard."

"Oh!"

"We quarrelled. I said good-bye forever, and walked away. She came after
me over the grass. Ludwell, to hold the woman that you love in your
arms, close, close--"

"I can guess 'twas bliss. And then?"

"Heaven still--only quieter. We went back to the bench under the
catalpa."

"Happy tree! And I never thought it a poetic growth--the flowers are so
sticky! Now Unity shall plant one at Greenwood."

"'Unity'! Isn't it sweet to say just 'Unity'?"

The other laughed again. "I think you are a very satisfactory lover! And
when's the marriage, Fair?"

"Not for a whole year--she won't marry me for a whole year to come!"

"Why, that's too long," said the elder kindly. "What reason?"

"Time to say farewell. Once she's married, she will never see Unity
Dandridge again!"

Both laughed, but there was much tenderness in their laughter. "Oh,
she's individual!" said Ludwell. "Even when you add the Cary, she'll be
Unity Dandridge still. A year! Perhaps she may relent."

"I've given my word not to ask her."

"Ah!--well, a year's not so long, Fair. She's a lovely witch--she'll
charm the hours away. This time next year how gay we'll make the old
house!"

The younger paced the room. "I can't go to bed.
Michaelmas--Christmas--St. Valentine's--Easter--the Fourth--then August
again. Twelve months!"

"You'll ride to Fontenoy in the morning."

"That's true--and you'll ride with me. The las