found them seated at the breakfast 
table, and I pleaded guilty to an early 
morning nap among the woods. 
“And your dream?” she asked, as if 
reading what was in my mind. 
“Was of a beautiful woman clad in 
silks,” I said, ‘‘and she stood in an old 
hall waiting for a prince to come.” 
“Ah, what a sad awakening!” she 
said, laughing sweetly. 
“But wait until I tell you of the 
change that camé ‘o’er the spirit of my 
dream,’ ” I added. 
“And I will some day show you the 
first scene of your picture,” she said 
softly. 
“And the last part?” 
“T do not know what it is, and you 
have not told me.” 
“But I will some day, and,” looking 
into her deep brown eyes and almost 
speaking in a whisper, “I like it better 
than the first portion of my picture.” 
I did not see Miss Hllen alone again 
that day. Squire Hawkins called in 
the afternoon and stayed to dinner. 
He was a kindly looking man, not over 
fifty, I should say, and he wore a pros- 
perous air, and he seemed to me to 
have seen u good deal of the world. 
Miss Hllen did not play for us that 
evening, for she and the squire took a 
long walk in the moonlight, and when 
she came home she went to her room, 
only stopping to say good night as she 
passed us on the porch. The squire 
stayed awhile longer and entertained 
us with stories of his university days 
in Germany, where he had been edu- 
cated. He seemed to treat Miss Hllen 
when he was with her in such a gen- 
tle, fatherly way that I laughed at the 
{dle gossip that I had heard about his 
courting her. I enjoyed his company 
and laughed heartily over his stories, 
which were good and well told. He 
had some good cigars, which Bud and 
I enjoyed, but the colonel would not 
smoke one, for he said they would up- 
set his nerves and make him “hanker 
after the fleshpots of Egypt.” The 
squire tried to banter him out of his 
resolution, but the colonel was obdu- 
rate and stuck to the pipe. 
CHAPTER IV. 
Almost a Proposal. 
ARLY Sunday morning the old 
coach was got ready, for Miss 
Hilen sang in the church choir, 
and we had to make an early 
start in order that she might get there 
on time. “I reckon you are not a 
churchman,” said the colonel, “for, if 
I remember rightly, the Palmers were 
always blue-back Presbyterians, but 
most people down here are Episcopa- 
lians, so don’t you go unless you feel 
60 inclined.” 
I acknowledged to being a member 
ef the Presbyterian church, but ex- 
pressed a willingness—nay, even an 
eagerness—to go, for I knew that Miss 
Ellen would not be at home. The 
drive that morning was a memorable 
one. Bud sat on the box and did the 
wORTH SHORE BREEZE 
driving, with Pickaninny Sam by his 
Bide. Col]-nel and Mrs. Turpin, Miss 
Hllen and I occupied the seats on the 
mside. I had seen tze eu: Wash 
tngton coach at Moun ernon, and I 
eould not help thintin: of it as I 
looked at this heirloo.a of tue Turpins. 
I might have thought that if had once 
been used by Generai Ovlethorpe. him- 
self, so ancient did it fook. ‘The colo- 
nel assured me in a most serious vein 
that it had never had that distinction, 
though there was a tradition in the 
family that it had been ovcupied by 
General Washington on his famous 
visit to Fort Augusta after the days 
of the Revolution, when he stayed at 
Meadow Garden, the home of the Wal- 
tons, the head of which family had 
been one of those to sign the Declara- 
tion of Independence. The coach was 
still strong and did not look out of 
place as it rambled through the pine 
forests, but it would come near to up- 
setting at times when going down hills 
where the roads were washed into deep 
trenches. 
Every now and then Bud would 
bring the team to a stand and, telling 
us that the trace or some other part 
Panes aw 
The Coach Would Come Near to Up- 
setting at Times. 
of the harness had broken, would get 
down and, taking a bundle of twine 
from his pocket, tie the ends together, 
and soon we would start again. I 
cared not how many times the traces 
might snap or how long it took us to 
get to church while opposite to me sat 
Miss Ellen, her eyes laughing into 
Mine every time the horses were 
brought to a stop. 
“Bud, the harness is getting pretty 
old,” said the colonel with grave dig- 
nity when Bud halted the coach for the 
fifth time, I think, and just within 
sight of the old church. 
“Yes, father; it must be considerably 
older than I am,” answered Bnd cheer- 
fully as he used the Jast hit of twine 
he had, “but it will hold together an- 
other six months, I reckon.” smiling 
into the coach at Miss Ellen and me. 
“Do you think the coach wil! hold 
together that long, Bud?” nervously 
asked Mrs. Turpin, for her faith in the 
vehicle was but little. Indeed. she had 
suggested using the wagon before we 
started. 
“How can you ask such a question, 
Mary?” said the colonel. showing an- 
noyance. ‘Has it not lasted ever since 
George Washington visited Augusta? 
It will be here when we are gone and 
serve your grandchildren well yet, I'll 
be bound,” at which Miss Ellen col- 
ored and Bud laughed heartily. 
Bud drove to the back of the church, 
where there was a long row of horse 
stalls. There were several old coaches 
standing by. but none as ancient or 
as grand as ours, and I found myself 
taking pride in the apparent antiquity 
of the family I was visiting and re- 
member quite well sneering at the 
newly painted buggies which were 
lined along the fence. We not only 
had a pew well up under the chancel, 
but occupied a place of honor among 
the middle aisle aristocracy. I had 
never heard Miss Wilen sing and did 
not know now whether she was so- 
prano or alto. I was tempted sorely 
to look around just once to see her in 
the organ loft, but so many eyes were 
fixed on me that I kept mine fixed re- 
ligiously on the minister. After ser- 
mon the Turpins held quite a recep- 
tion under the pines in the yard. and 
I was given an opportunity of seeing 
in what respect they were held in the 
county. Several of the young men in- ° 
vited me to hunt with them and of- 
fered me their guns, shells and dogs. 
“We know Bud is pretty busy,” they 
would say, “so if you give the word we 
will ride by for you some day this 
week.” Miss Hilen was the center of 
attraction, and every man tried to edge 
himself within tbe circle that sur- 
rounded her in order to receive one 
passing remark from her at least. 
She seemed entirely unconscious of the 
influence she exerted in her limited 
sphere, yet apparently took this hom- 
age for granted, or so it appeared to 
ma 
[TO BE CONTINUED.) 
Just Believes In It, 
“T always believe in saving some 
thing for a rainy day.” 
“How much have you saved?” 
“Oh, I haven’t saved anything, but 1 
believe in it.”—Chicago Record-Herald. 
