"No," answered Rand. "I have not. It is nothing--a bit of a cut that I
gave myself."

He pushed the door open and poured out the stained water upon the
ground, then took fresh from a bucket standing by and rinsed the basin
before he set it down upon the table. "Vinie--"

"Yeth, thir."

"I want a promise from you."

"Yeth, Mr. Rand."

"You've always been my good friend, ever since long ago when you came
from the little house in Richmond to this little house in
Charlottesville, and I was reading law with Mr. Henning. Why, I don't
know what I should do without you and Tom!"

Vinie's eyes filled. "I couldn't--Tom and me couldn't--do without you,
Mr. Rand. You're our best friend, and we'd die for you, and you know it.
I'll promise you anything, and I'll keep my promise."

"I know that you will. It's nothing more than this. Vinie, I don't want
it known that I stopped here to-day, and I want you to forget--look at
me, Vinie."

"Yeth, thir."

"I want you to forget what I asked you for, and what I did in Tom's
room.

"Yeth, thir," said Vinie, with large eyes. "And that you cut yourself?"

"That, too. Everything, Vinie, except that, coming along the main road,
I stopped a moment at the gate to say how d'ye do, and to tell you that
Tom would be at home in two or three days. That is all, and my coming
into the house and the rest of it never was. Do you understand?"

"I won't say anything at all, thir."

"It's a promise?"

"Yeth, thir. I promise."

They went out into the porch together. "Ithn't there anything else?"

Rand, studying in silence the clouds and the whirling dust, had started
down the step or two to the path between the marigolds. He paused. "I
can't think of anything, Vinie"; then, after a moment, and very oddly,
"Would you give me, once more, a cup of cool water?"

Vinie brought it in her hand. "You always thaid this water washed the
dust off clean."

Rand drank, and gave back the cup. "Thank you. I'll go on now. How your
vine has borne this year!"

"Yeth. I'm going to make some wine this week. Good-bye."

Her visitor passed through the little yard, between the vivid flowers.
At the gate he turned his head. "Tom is really coming, Vinie, in two or
three days."

"Yeth, thir," said Vinie. "I'll be mighty glad to see him."

Rand mounted, and he and Young Isham rode away. Vinie stood upon the
porch and watched them as far as the turn in the road. A gust of hot
wind blew against her, ruffling