wept the two-mile circle of
stalls that held somewhere within their big curve--the enemy.

The boy at the mare's head laughed joyously.

"They ain't got a chance!" he gloated.

"All right, Chick," said Blister. "Put her up! Hold on!" he corrected
suddenly. "Here's the boss!" And I became aware of a throbbing motor
behind me. So likewise did Tres Jolie.

"Whoa, Jane! Whoa, darling; it's mammy!" came in liquid tones from the
motor.

The rearing thoroughbred descended to earth with slim inquiring ears
thrown forward, and I remembered that Blister had described Mrs.
Dillon's voice as "good to listen at."

"Look, Virginia, she knows me!" the velvet voice exclaimed.

Another voice, rather heavy for a woman, but with a fascinating drawl
in it, answered:

"Perhaps she fancies you have a milk bottle with you. Isn't this the
one you and Uncle Jake raised on a bottle?"

"Yass'm, yass, Miss Vahginia, dat's her! Dat's ma Honey-bird!" came in
excited tones from an ancient negro, who alighted stiffly from the
motor and peered in our direction. As they approached, he held Mrs.
Dillon by the sleeve, and I realized that for Uncle Jake the sun would
never shine again.

Judge Dillon, a big-boned silent man, I had met. And after the shower
of questions poured upon Blister had abated, and the mare had been
gentled, petted and given a lump of sugar with a final hug, he
presented me to his wife.

"My cousin, Miss Goodloe," said Mrs. Dillon, and I sensed a mass of
tawny hair under the motor veil and looked into a pair of blue eyes set
wide apart beneath a broad white brow. It was no time for details.

It developed that Miss Goodloe was from Tennessee, that she was
visiting the Dillons at Thistle Ridge near Lexington, and that she
liked a small book of verses of which I had been guilty. It further
developed that Mrs. Dillon had talked me over with an aunt of mine in
Cincinnati, that we were mutually devoted to Blister, and that he had
described me to her as "the most educated guy allowed loose." This
last I learned as Judge Dillon and Blister discussed the derby some
distance from us.

"I feel awed and diffident in the presence of such learning," said Miss
Goodloe almost sleepily. "Why did I neglect my opportunities at Dobbs
Ferry!"

"I would give a good deal to observe you when you felt diffident,
Virginia," said Mrs. Dillon, with a laugh like a silver bell. "Uncle
Jake!" she called, "we are going now."

"I h