independence and a dash
of exultation, as though she were really glad that she had driven away
forever the young man whom the day before she had loved with all the
ardor of a first passion.

I hoped that time might heal the breach and bring the two young people
together again. I told my wife what I had overheard. In return she gave
me Mabel's version of the affair.

"I do not see how it can ever be settled," my wife said. "It is
something more than a mere lovers' quarrel. It began, it is true,
because she found fault with him for going to church with that hateful
Branson girl. But before it ended there were things said that no woman
of any spirit could stand. I am afraid it is all over between them."

I was sorry to hear this. In spite of the very firm attitude taken by
my wife and her sister, I still hoped that the quarrel would be made up
within a day or two. Nevertheless, when a week had passed with no word
from young Murchison, and with no sign of relenting on Mabel's part, I
began to think myself mistaken.

One pleasant afternoon, about ten days after the rupture, old Julius
drove the rockaway up to the piazza, and my wife, Mabel, and I took
our seats for a drive to a neighbor's vineyard, over on the Lumberton
plankroad.

"Which way shall we go," I asked,--"the short road or the long one?"

"I guess we had better take the short road," answered my wife. "We will
get there sooner."

"It's a mighty fine dribe roun' by de big road, Mis' Annie," observed
Julius, "en it doan take much longer to git dere."

"No," said my wife, "I think we will go by the short road. There is a
bay tree in blossom near the mineral spring, and I wish to get some of
the flowers."

"I 'spec's you'd find some bay trees 'long de big road, ma'am," said
Julius.

"But I know about the flowers on the short road, and they are the ones I
want."

We drove down the lane to the highway, and soon struck into the short
road leading past the mineral spring. Our route lay partly through a
swamp, and on each side the dark, umbrageous foliage, unbroken by
any clearing, lent to the road solemnity, and to the air a refreshing
coolness. About half a mile from the house, and about halfway to the
mineral spring, we stopped at the tree of which my wife had spoken, and
reaching up to the low-hanging boughs I gathered a dozen of the fragrant
white flowers. When I resumed my seat in the rockaway, Julius started
the mare. She went on for a few rods, unti