“He’s gone to the station to see about his horses that he has had shipped down.  We’re going to hunt some more, no matter how cold; all of us, Caroline and David and the rest.”

“Andrew Sevier hasn’t hunted at all this fall, as fond of it as he is.  He’ll never come now that you’ve annexed a foreign element, Polly.  He’s among strangers so much that he’s rather absurd about wanting the close circle of just his old friends to be unbroken when he’s home.  Where is he to-day?” As she spoke Mrs. Cherry had looked at Caroline Darrah with a glance in which Phoebe detected a slight insolence and at which the major narrowed his observant eyes.

“Why, he’s gone down to the station with Caroline’s friend to see about having the horses sent out to Seven Oaks,” answered Phoebe in a smooth cool voice.  “I think all of us have been disappointed that Andrew has had to be so careful since his accident; but now that he can come over here every day to book gloat with the major and have Mrs. Matilda and Tempie, to say nothing of Caroline Darrah, the new star cook-lady, to feed him up, I think we can go about our own affairs unworried over him.”  The sweet smile that Phoebe bent upon the widow was so delicious that the major rattled the sugar tongs on the tea-tray by way of relief from an unendurably suppressed chuckle.

“But when I hunt next David has promised me possums and persimmons,” said Caroline Darrah from her seat on the sofa beside Phoebe.  She was totally oblivious of the small tongue-tilt just completed.  “He says the first damp night on the last quarter of the moon when the wind is from the southeast and—­”

“Howdy, people!” came an interrupting call from the hall and at that moment David himself came into the room.  “I’m late but I’ve been four places hunting for you, Phoebe, and had three cups of tea in the scramble.  However, I would like a buttered biscuit if somebody feeds it to me.  I’ve had a knock-out blow and I’ve got news to tell.”

“You can tell it before you get the biscuit,” said Phoebe cold-heartedly, but she laid two crisp disks on the edge of his saucer.  She apparently failed to see that Mrs. Cherry was endeavoring to pass him the plate.

“It’s only that Milly Overton has perpetrated two more crimes on the community, at three-thirty to-day—­assorted boy and girl.”  And David grinned with sheer delight at having projected such a bomb in the circle.

“What!” demanded Phoebe while Mrs. Cherry lay back in her chair and fanned herself, and Mrs. Buchanan paused with suspended teapot.

“Yes,” he answered jubilantly, “Of course little Mistake is only two and a quarter and Crimie can just toddle on his hocks at one and a fifth years; but the two little crimes are here, and are going to stay.  Billy Bob is down at the club getting his back slapped off about it.  He’s accessory you understand.  He says Milly is radiant and wants all of you to come and see them right away.  But what I want to see is Grandma Shelby—­won’t she rage?  I’m going to send her a message of congratulations and then stand away.  Just watch for—­”