w by shooting each
other, except in a big way like the war. The last duel was fought by the
old fountain out there--one of the Merriweathers met one of the Paines.
Merriweather was killed, and the girl died of a broken heart."

"Then it was Merriweather that she loved?"

"Yes. And young Paine went abroad, and joined the British army and was
killed in India. So nobody was happy, and all because there was,
probably, a flowing bowl at the harvest ball. I am glad they don't do it
that way now. Just think of my Randy stripped to his shirt and with
pistols for two. We are more civilized in these days and I'm glad of
it."

"Are we?" said the Major; "I'm not sure. But I hope so."

Randy came by just then and spoke to them. "Are you getting everything
you want, Mother?"

"Yes, indeed. The Major looked after me. I've had salad twice, and
everything else----"

"That sounds greedy, but it isn't, not when you think of the groaning
boards of other days. Has she been telling you about them, Major?"

"Yes, she has peopled the room with ghosts----"

"Now, Major!"

"Pleasant ghosts--in lace ruffles and velvet coats, smoking long pipes
around a punch bowl; beautiful ghosts in patches and powder," he made an
expressive gesture; "they have mingled with the rest of
you--shadow-shapes of youth and loveliness."

"Well, if anybody can tell about it, Mother can," said Randy, "but I
don't believe there were ever any prettier girls than are here
to-night."

"Becky looks like an angel," Mrs. Paine stated, "but she's pale, Randy."

"She is tired, Mother. I think she ought to go home. I shall try to
make her when I come back. She dropped her fan and I am going to get
it."

He had not told Becky where he was going. He had slipped away--his mind
intent on regaining her property. But when he reached the bushes and
flashed his pocket-light on the ground beneath, there was no fan. It
must have fallen here. He was sure he had made no mistake.

He decided finally that someone else had found it. It seemed unlikely,
however, for the spot was remote, and the thickness of the bushes
offered a barrier to anyone strolling casually through the grounds.

He went slowly back to the house. Ever since that night when Becky had
said she would marry him he had lived in a dream. They were pledged to
each other, yet she did not love him. How could he take her? And again,
how could he give her up? She had offered herself freely, and he wanted
her in his