Glad," he drew a long breath. Nellie, who had wedged herself in tightly
between her master and Jefferson, wriggled and licked his hand. He
looked down at her, tried to say something, broke a little on it, and
ended abruptly, "It's Heaven."

"And you weren't hurt?"

"Not a scratch, worse luck."

She turned to Major Prime and did the wise thing and the thing he liked.
"You were," she said, simply, "but I am not going to be sorry for you,
shall I?"

"No," he said, "I am not sorry for--myself----"

For a moment there was silence, then Becky carried the conversation into
lighter currents. "Everybody is here for the Horse Show next week. Your
mother's house is full, and those awful Waterman people have guests."

"One of them came down with us."

"The good-looking man who offered us a ride?"

"Oh, of course if you like that kind of looks, he's the kind of man
you'd like," said Randy, "but coming down he seemed rather out of tune
with the universe."

"How out of tune?"

"Well, it was hot and he was hot----"

"It _is_ hot, Randy, and perhaps he isn't used to it."

"Are you making excuses for him?"

"I don't even know him."

Major Prime interposed. "His man was a corking little chap, never turned
a hair, as cool as a cucumber, with everybody else sizzling."

They were ascending a hill, and the horse went slowly. Ahead of them was
a buggy without a top. In the buggy were a man and a woman. The woman
had an umbrella over her, and a child in her arms.

"It's Mary Flippin and her father. See if you can't overtake them,
Jefferson. I want you to see Fiddle Flippin, Randy."

"Who is Fiddle Flippin?"

"Mary's little girl. Mary is a war bride. She was in Petersburg teaching
school when the war broke out, and she married a man named Branch. Then
she came home--and she called the baby Fidelity."

"I hope he was a good husband."

"Nobody has seen him, he was ordered away at once. But she is very
proud of him. And the baby is a darling. Just beginning to walk and
talk."

"Stop a minute, Jefferson, while I speak to them."

Mr. Flippin pulled up his fat horse. He was black-haired, ruddy, and
wide of girth. "Well, well," he said, with a big laugh, "it is cert'n'y
good to see you."

Mary Flippin was slender and delicate and her eyes were blue. Her hair
was thick and dark. There was Scotch-Irish blood in the Flippins, and
Mary's charm was in that of duskiness of hair and blueness of eye. "Oh,
Randy Paine," she said,