which Mother
had always kept her linen. "I've been in Glendale two hours, and one man
is on the home base with his fingers crossed. James, you are free! Oh,
Jane!"

CHAPTER III

A FLINT SPARK

The greatest upheavals of nature are those that arrive suddenly, without
notifying the world days beforehand of their intentions of splitting the
crust of the Universe wide open. One is coming to Glendale by degrees,
but the town hasn't found out about it yet. I'm the only one who sees
it, and I'm afraid to tell.

When Old Harpeth, who has been looking down on a nice, peaceful, man
ordained, built, and protected world, woke Glendale up the morning after
my arrival and found me defiantly alone in the home of my fathers--also
of each of my foremothers, by the courtesy of dower--he muttered and
drew a veil of mist across his face. Slight showers ensued, but he had
to come out in less than an hour from pure curiosity. I found the old
garden heavenly in its riot of neglected buds, shoots, and blooms, wet
and welcoming with the soft odors of Heaven itself.

It was well I was out early to enjoy it, for that was to be the day of
my temptation and sore trial. I am glad I have recorded it all, for I
might have forgotten some day how wonderfully my very pliant, feminine
attitude rubbed in my masculine intentions as to my life on the blind
side of all the forces brought to bear on me to put me back into my
predestined place in the scheme of the existence.

"Your Cousin James's home is the place for you, Evelina, and until he
explained to me how you felt last night I was deeply hurt that you
hadn't come straight, with Sallie, to me and to him," said Cousin
Martha, in as severe a voice as was possible for such a placid
individual to produce. Cousin Martha is completely lovely, and the
Mossback gets his beauty from her. She is also such a perfect dear that
her influence is something terrific, even if negatively expressed.

"I have come to help you get your things together, so you can move over
before dinner," she continued with gentle force. "Now, what shall we put
in the portmanteau first? I see you have unpacked very little, and I am
glad that it confirms me in my feeling that your coming over here for
the night was just a dutiful sentiment for your lost loved ones, and not
any unmaidenly sense of independence in the matter of choice where it is
best for you to live. Of course, such a question as that must be left to
your gua