One afternoon when Virginia was sitting in the summer house alone, her thoughts wandering back, as they sometimes did, to another afternoon she had spent there,—it seemed so long ago,—when she saw Mammy Easter coming toward her.
“Honey, dey’s comp’ny up to de house. Mister Hopper’s done arrived. He’s on de porch, talkin’ to your Pa. Lawsey, look wha he come!”
In truth, the solid figure of Eliphalet himself was on the path some twenty yards behind her. His hat was in his hand; his hair was plastered down more neatly than ever, and his coat was a faultless and sober creation of a Franklin Avenue tailor. He carried a cane, which was unheard of. Virginia sat upright, and patted her skirts with a gesture of annoyance—what she felt was anger, resentment. Suddenly she rose, swept past Mammy, and met him ten paces from the summer house.
“How-dy-do, Miss Virginia,” he cried pleasantly. “Your father had a notion you might be here.” He said fayther.
Virginia gave him her hand limply. Her greeting would have frozen a man of ardent temperament. But it was not precisely ardor that Eliphalet showed. The girl paused and examined him swiftly. There was something in the man’s air to-day.
“So you were not caught?” she said.
Her words seemed to relieve some tension in him. He laughed noiselessly.
“I just guess I wahn’t.”
“How did you escape?” she asked, looking at him curiously.
“Well, I did, first of all. You’re considerable smart, Miss Jinny, but I’ll bet you can’t tell me where I was, now.”
“I do not care to know. The place might save you again.”
He showed his disappointment. “I cal’lated it might interest you to know how I dodged the Sovereign State of Missouri. General Halleck made an order that released a man from enrolling on payment of ten dollars. I paid. Then I was drafted into the Abe Lincoln Volunteers; I paid a substitute. And so here I be, exercising life, and liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”
“So you bought yourself free?” said Virginia. “If your substitute gets killed, I suppose you will have cause for congratulation.”
Eliphalet laughed, and pulled down his cuffs. “That’s his lookout, I cal’late,” said he. He glanced at the girl in a way that made her vaguely uneasy. She turned from him, back toward the summer house. Eliphalet’s eyes smouldered as they rested upon her figure. He took a step forward.
“Miss Jinny?” he said.
“Yes?”
“I’ve heard considerable about the beauties of this place. Would you mind showing me ’round a bit?” Virginia started. It was his tone now. Not since that first evening in Locust Street had it taken on such assurance, And yet she could not be impolite to a guest.
“Certainly not,” she replied, but without looking up. Eliphalet led the way. He came to the summer house, glanced around it with apparent satisfaction, and put his foot on the moss-grown step. Virginia did a surprising thing. She leaped quickly into the doorway before him, and stood facing him, framed in the climbing roses.