se.

The Squire thus disappears toward the barn. Miss Lavinia superintends
the household operation of "washing up the tea things," and Redbud
puts on her sun-bonnet, and goes to take a stroll.

CHAPTER II.

VERTY AND HIS COMPANIONS.

Redbud is sauntering over the sward, and listening to the wind in the
beautiful fallwoods, when, from those woods which stretch toward the
West, emerges a figure, which immediately rivets her attention. It
is a young man of about eighteen, mounted on a small, shaggy-coated
horse, and clad in a wild forest costume, which defines clearly the
outline of a person, slender, vigorous, and graceful. Over his brown
forehead and smiling face, droops a wide hat, of soft white fur, below
which, a mass of dark chestnut hair nearly covers his shoulders with
its exuberant and tangled curls. Verty--for this is Verty the son, or
adopted son of the old Indian woman, living in the pine hills to the
west--Verty carries in one hand a strange weapon, nothing less than a
long cedar bow, and a sheaf of arrows; in the other, which also holds
his rein, the antlers of a stag, huge and branching in all directions;
around him circle two noble deer-hounds. Verty strongly resembles an
amiable wild cat; and when he sees Redbud, smiles more than ever.

The girl runs toward him, laughing gaily--

"Oh, Verty!" she says, "indeed I am very glad to see you. Where have
you been?"

With which, she gives him her hand.

"At home," says Verty, with his bright, but dreamy smile; "I've got
the antlers for the Squire, at last."

And Verty throws the rein on the neck of his little horse, who stands
perfectly still, and leaps lightly to the ground. He stands for a
moment gazing at Redbud with his dreamy and smiling eyes, silent in
the sunshine like a shadow, then he pushes back his tangled chestnut
curls, and laughs.

"I had a long chase," he says.

"For the deer?"

"Yes," says Verty, "and there are his horns. Oh, how bright you look."

Redbud returns his smile.

"I think I didn't live before I knew you; but that was long years
ago," says Verty, "a very long time ago."

And leaning for a moment on his bow, the forest boy gazes with his
singular dreamy look on Redbud, who smiles.

"Papa has gone out riding," she says, "but come, let's go in, and put
up the antlers."

Verty assents readily to this, and speaking to his horse in some
outlandish tongue, leaves him standing there, and accompanies Redbud
toward