and that, well, in
your words, Mary--we let other people carry our baskets."

Mary was smiling to herself. "You are glad he is coming home?"

"Truxton? Yes. On Saturday."

"Becky told me. She rode over to get Mother to help Mandy."

"I am going to have a lot of people to dine the day he arrives," said
the Judge, "and next week there'll be the Merriweathers' ball. He will
have a chance to see his old friends."

"Yes," said Mary, "he will."

They talked a great deal about Truxton after that.

"I wish he bore the Bannister name," said the Judge. "Becky is the only
Bannister."

After the death of her husband Mrs. Beaufort had come to live with the
Judge. Truxton's boyhood had been spent on the old estate. The Judge's
income was small, and Truxton had known few luxuries. Like the rest of
the boys of the Bannister family he was studying law at the University.
He and Randy had been classmates, but had gone into different branches
of the service.

"When he comes back," the Judge told Mary, "he must show the stuff he is
made of. I can't have him selling cars around the county like Randy
Paine."

"Well, Randy has sold a lot of them," said Mary. "Father has given him
an order----"

"You don't mean to say that Bob Flippin is going to buy a car----"

"He is."

"He didn't dare tell me," the Judge said; "what's he going to do with
his horses?"

"Keep them," said Mary serenely; "the car is for Mother--she's going to
drive it herself."

The Judge, with a vision of Mollie Flippin's middle-aged plumpness upon
him, exclaimed: "You don't mean that your mother is going to--drive a
car?"

"Yes," said Mary, "she is."

"I would as soon think of Claudia----"

"No," said Mary, "Mrs. Beaufort will never drive her own car. She has
the coachman habit, and if she ever gets a car, there'll be a man at the
wheel."

She brought the conversation back to Truxton. "Do you remember how we
had a picnic here years ago, Mother packed the lunch, and Truxton ate up
all the raspberry tarts?"

"He loved tarts," said the Judge, "and chocolate cake. Well, well, I
shall be glad to see him."

"Perhaps--perhaps when he gets here you'll be disappointed."

"Why," sharply, "why should I?"

Mary did not answer. She stood up with Fiddle in her arms. "Calvin's
coming for the basket," she said, "and I shall have to go up on the
other side--I left the cart."

She said "good-bye" and crossed by the stepping-stones. The Judge wound
up his fishi