f the
cheeks, black Indian hair, rich Mexican lips,--these cooerdinated into
the most startling type he had ever seen, through a quick, sensitive,
high-spirited intelligence, the inheritance of Southern blood. He could
not analyze this beauty; he could only gasp at it.

Francis B. Ellesworth was, as has been intimated, not a captivating man
_per se_; but as he sat upon his horse, with the flush of excitement
upon his face, and a certain refinement in his carriage that looked as
much out of place in Cherokee Garden as the face of the girl before him,
he was not an unattractive fellow. Now, as the two were not over fifteen
feet apart, and were both looking at each other, one of them had to
speak. She waited for him to do so. He simply couldn't. So she spoke
first.

"Have you lost your way, sir?"

The tremor of the dimple in her chin and the marked effort which she
made to steady her voice, showed that she was much agitated. Had she not
been expecting the man who was to take away her home for a paltry sum of
unpaid money? She had looked upon the Yankee who held her fathers notes
as little more than a thief. And now that her father had died, she
seriously considered him in the light of a murderer. She thought of his
agent as his "minion," whom it was clearly due her dignity to resist.
The case had been the talk of the scraggly village, and the judge of the
district, who was reputed to know the intricacies of all the law that
ever was tabulated, asserted vehemently in her presence that to eject
her from her home was an outrage that could not and would not be
permitted as long as the able-bodied men of Cherokee could carry a gun.
This testimony of Southern chivalry the girl fully believed.

And now the invader had come at last. She clutched the gate and
collected herself to meet him.

"No, miss, that is--is this William Benson's?--I mean----" Ellesworth
halted, remembering that his debtor was no more, and not wishing to
remind her of the fact. "_Was_ this his place?"

The magnificent girl looked at him over that fence and measured him.
Yes, the worst had come at last, and an uncalled-for insult with it. How
the stranger gloated over the fact that the place was _not_ her
father's! She drew herself to her full height; her black eyes blazed;
her cheeks became carmine. She could hardly control her voice from
indignation.

"You mistake, sir. This _is_ his place, and I think, sir, it will remain
so."

She looked at him f