class="c007">“And you’re a ‘knight comes riding by, riding by, riding by’——”

“‘So early in the morning,’” he finished. “If the knight were sure you thought so”—his eyes were on her cheek—“he might claim a knight’s reward.”

She fell abruptly silent.

The Maryland spring was well advanced, and the path along which they moved was carpeted with flowers. The blue bells of the wild myrtle swung almost at their feet. Scarlet runners rioted over the low stone wall at their hand. The sycamores and oaks were clothed in tenderest green. Beyond the left-hand wall, rows of peach-trees marched away, flaunting banners of pink and white.

Fessenden heard the tinkle of the brook, winding in the shadow of overhanging banks. Sights and sounds lulled him. He felt himself in harmony with the quiet mood of the girl in his arms.

Truly this was an unexpected adventure! His eyes rested upon the piquant face so near his own. It possessed a refinement of outline that was belied by the humble fashion of her gown and by the position in which he had surprised her. The precocious daughter of a farmer, perhaps, or at best the neglected child of one of the war-ruined “first families of the South.”

He found himself speculating upon the sort of house he was likely to discover at the end of the lane—perhaps a crumbling colonial mansion, equipped with a Confederate colonel and a faithful former slave or two.

He smiled unconsciously at the red mouth, and was somewhat disconcerted to find the blue eyes watching him.

“Were you making fun of me, Mr. Puddin’ Tame?”

“Word of honor, no! I was smiling to be in harmony with the day, I fancy.”

“Maryland is lovely. You’re a Northern man, aren’t you?”

“I freely admit it. But I’m on my way to a house-party at Sandywood.”

“Sandywood?”

“Yes. You know it, of course?”

“Of course. It’s just over the hill from the Landis house—our house. Sandywood is the old Cary place.”

“I don’t know. I’m to visit a family named Cresap.”

“It’s the same place. The Cresaps are only occupying it for a while.”

“Then you know Mrs. Cresap?”

“Hum-m. Aunty Landis knows her, but I suppose she doesn’t know us—not in the way you mean. I live with Aunt Katey Landis at White Cottage. Uncle Bob Landis supplies Sandywood with eggs and butter and milk.”

“Oh, I see.”

“You’ve never been on the Eastern Shore before?”

“Never. But I’ve learned to like it already. To rescue a girl from man-eating eels, and——”

“Girls don’t go in wading every day, even on the Eastern Shore.”

“If they did, I’d walk over from the railroad station straight through the year.”

“From Sandywood Station?”

“Yes. I was delayed in Baltimore on account of meeting a friend there, so there wasn’t any one at the station to meet me. I’m a good walker, and——”

“And the fairies led you down the wood-road in time to save disobedient me.”

“Disobedient?”

She nodded. “Aunty Landis told me that I mustn’t go in wading. She said it was not becoming—that it was very improper.”

“How unreasonable!”

“That’s what I thought. But I wish now I’d obeyed her.”

“But that would have meant that the poor knight would have ridden by without an excuse for knowing you.”

“Alas! Well, your task is nearly done. We must be near White Cottage.”

“Don’t say that.”