and and stealing the other around the
waist of a fair companion, if it were allowed by the moral law, it is
prohibited by state regulation. The procedure is often dangerous in
more senses than one.

But riding in a buggy is different. There is just enough attention
required in driving to relieve awkwardness. If a country bumpkin is
seated by his best girl, and can speak only in monosyllables, and those
few and far between, he can at least say to his horse: "Git ep." If his
hands are so big, red and rough that he is ashamed of them, they can by
holding reins and whip pass muster. His cowhide boots, shining with
bear's grease or lard, can be hidden under the buggy robe.

When a young man takes the young lady of his choice for a drive, he
feels a sort of proprietorship in her. He has her company all to
himself. With this sensation comes another of responsibility. He must
protect her from all harm and look well to her comfort. He wraps her up
carefully in the thick robe, which he bought last week at the county
seat, paying a half month's wages for it. He shields her from the least
cold, when perhaps that very morning she has hung out a wash in her
mother's yard with the temperature about zero.

When Friday morning came round Jasper Very came with it. He drove his
faithful Bob, hitched to a new buggy, in front of Judge LeMonde's
imposing mansion.

Presently Viola appeared, her outside wrap being a heavy beaver cloak
which buttoned under her chin and reached nearly to the ground. Upon
her head she wore a hat corresponding in color with her cloak. The
somber hue of the hat was relieved only by a band and knot of blue
ribbon; for in those days feathers and flowers were not allowed.
However, she needed no outside ornament to increase her beauty. Her
cheeks were red as roses as they were touched by the sharp wintry air;
her eyes shone bright and clear with the look of perfect health.

Jasper Very assisted her into the vehicle and jumping in himself
adjusted the heavy lap robe about them both. He spoke to Bob and they
were off. Nora, the servant, with a laugh called after them: "How nice
yo' look riding togedder. 'Pears like yo' made fo' each odder." Viola
shook her hand at the girl, but did not seem much displeased. They went
down a private way to the big gate opening on the county road and, soon
striking the river road, turned to the left in an opposite direction
from that which Larkin and Grimes had taken.

For a while t