As for Dabney Kinzer, he was in no respect overcome by the novelty and excitement of the wedding.  All the rest of the day he devoted himself to such duties as were assigned him, with a new and grand idea steadily taking shape in his mind.  He felt as if his brains, too, were growing.  Some of his mother’s older and more intimate friends remained with her all day, probably to comfort her for the loss of Miranda, and two or three of them, Dab knew, would stay to tea, so that his services would be in demand to see them safely home.

All day long, moreover, Samantha and Keziah and Pamela seemed to find themselves wonderfully busy, one way and another, so that they paid even less attention than usual to any of the ins and outs of their brother.

Dabney was therefore able, with little difficulty, to take for himself whatever of odd time he might require for putting his new idea into execution.

Mrs. Kinzer herself noticed the rare good sense with which her son hurried through with his dinner and slipped away, leaving her in undisturbed possession of the table and her lady guests, and neither she nor either of the girls had a thought of following him.

If they had done so, they might have seen him draw a good-sized bundle out from under the lilac-thicket in the back yard, and hurry down through the garden.

A few minutes more and Dabney appeared on the fence of the old cross-road leading down to the shore.  There he sat, eying one passer-by after another, till he suddenly sprang from his perch, exclaiming:  “That’s just the chap.  Why, they’ll fit him, and that’s more’n they ever did for me.”

Dab would probably have had to search along the coast for miles before he could have found a human being better suited to his present charitable purposes than the boy who now came so lazily down the road.

There was no doubt about his color, or that he was all over of about the same shade of black.  His old tow trousers and calico shirt revealed the shining fact in too many places to leave room for a question, and shoes he had none.

“Dick,” said Dabney, “was you ever married?”

“Married!” exclaimed Dick, with a peal of very musical laughter.  “Is I married?  No!  Is you?”

“No,” replied Dabney, “but I was mighty near it, this morning.”

“Dat so?” asked Dick, with another show of his white teeth.  “Done ye good, den.  Nebber seen ye look so nice afore.”

“You’d look nicer’n I do, if you were only dressed up,” said Dab.  “Just you put on these.”

“Golly!” exclaimed the black boy.  But he seized the bundle Dab threw him, and he had it open in a twinkling.  “Anyt’ing in de pockets?” he asked.

“Guess not,” said Dab; “but there’s lots of room.”

“Say dar was!” exclaimed Dick.  “But wont dese t’ings be warm!”

It was quite likely, for the day was not a cool one, and Dick never seemed to think of pulling off what he had on before getting into his unexpected present.  Coat, vest, and trousers, they were all pulled on with more quickness than Dab had ever seen the young African display before.