m rich, fine folks, she looks lack a whole flock er
angels. Dey ain' one er dem ladies w'at could hol' a candle ter her.
I wonder w'at dat man's gwine ter do wid her handkercher? I s'pose
he's her gent'eman now. I wonder ef she'd know me er speak ter me ef
she seed me? I reckon she would, spite er her gittin' up so in de
worl'; fer she wuz alluz good ter ev'ybody, an' dat let even ME in," he
concluded with a sigh.

"Who is the lady, Tryon?" asked one of the young men, addressing the
knight who had taken the handkerchief.

"A Miss Warwick," replied the knight pleasantly, "Miss Rowena Warwick,
the lawyer's sister."

"I didn't know he had a sister," rejoined the first speaker. "I envy
you your lady. There are six Rebeccas and eight Rowenas of my own
acquaintance in the grand stand, but she throws them all into the
shade. She hasn't been here long, surely; I haven't seen her before."

"She has been away at school; she came only last night," returned the
knight of the crimson sash, briefly. He was already beginning to feel
a proprietary interest in the lady whose token he wore, and did not
care to discuss her with a casual acquaintance.

The herald sounded the charge. A rider darted out from the group and
galloped over the course. As he passed under each ring, he tried to
catch it on the point of his lance,--a feat which made the management
of the horse with the left hand necessary, and required a true eye and
a steady arm. The rider captured three of the twelve rings, knocked
three others off the hooks, and left six undisturbed. Turning at the
end of the lists, he took the lance with the reins in the left hand and
drew his sword with the right. He then rode back over the course,
cutting at the wooden balls upon the posts. Of these he clove one in
twain, to use the parlance of chivalry, and knocked two others off
their supports. His performance was greeted with a liberal measure of
applause, for which he bowed in smiling acknowledgment as he took his
place among the riders.

Again the herald's call sounded, and the tourney went forward. Rider
after rider, with varying skill, essayed his fortune with lance and
sword. Some took a liberal proportion of the rings; others merely
knocked them over the boundaries, where they were collected by agile
little negro boys and handed back to the attendants. A balking horse
caused the spectators much amusement and his rider no little chagrin.

The lady who had droppe