by with downcast eyes, when, to his surprise and the young girl’s evident astonishment, Mr. Jocelyn arose and said, “Ah, Mr. Atwood, we’re glad to see you.  Won’t you join our little party?  I want to thank you again for offering me your horse and carriage, but I assure you that a quiet hour like this with one’s family after long separation is happiness enough.  Still, as a Southern man, I appreciate courtesy, and am always ready to respond to it in like spirit.  Moreover, it gives me peculiar pleasure to see a Northern man developing traits which, if they were general, would make the two great sections of our land one in truth as well as in name.”

Roger gave Mildred a quick, questioning glance, and saw that she was regarding her father with much perplexity.

“Mr. Jocelyn,” he said quietly, “the little courtesy of which you speak has cost me nothing, and if it had it would not be worth the words you bestow upon it.”

“I do not think of the act itself so much as the spirit, the disposition it indicates,” resumed Mr. Jocelyn in a manner that was courtly and pronounced, but otherwise natural and quiet enough.  “I do not judge superficially, but look past apparent trifles to the character they suggest.  Moreover, my wife informs me that you have been very polite to her, and very kind to Belle and the children, whom you have often taken out to drive without any compensation whatever.  Since you will not make a business matter of such things, I wish to repay you in the coin which gentleman can always receive—­that of friendly acknowledgments.”

“Then please consider me amply repaid,” and with a smile and a bow he was about to retire.

“Do not hasten away, sir,” Mr. Jocelyn began again.  “On this, day of rest your duties cannot be pressing.  I want to assure you further of the pleasure I have in finding a young man who, so far from being rendered callous and material by hard and rather homely work, is alive to all refining influences.  The changes in this place for the better since I was here, and those pretty flowers yonder, all prove that you have an eye for the beautiful as well as the practical.  My daughter Mildred also informs me that you are cherishing hopes and ambitions that will eventually enlarge your sphere of life and take you out into the great world.”

Hitherto Roger’s eyes had been fixed keenly and unwaveringly on Mr. Jocelyn’s urbane countenance, as if he would detect the cause of such unlooked-for words, but at the mention of Mildred’s name his brow and even neck was suffused.  “She must have spoken of me kindly,” he thought, “or her father would not be so friendly.”  But when a swift glance around revealed that Mrs. Jocelyn was looking at her husband in perplexity, that Mildred was not even trying to conceal her vexation and amazement, and that Belle had stuffed her handkerchief into her mouth to prevent laughter, a spark of anger glittered in his eyes.  His first thought was that