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The rural south retires with the chickens and as darkness came on Mrs. Gorton prepared the guest chamber of her little home and her youngest son, a stripling of twenty years showed Bennet to his room. The others of her family were either married or off in turpentine camps—till harvest time. "There was a time, when our family had servants too, like the Lauristons," he explained as if apologizing, "but that was long ago. Then we could have shown you such courtesies as the South used to offer its guests."

"Oh, that's all right. I'm glad to get a place to sleep as cosy as this, and I know my dreams will be pleasant with the scent of roses blowing on me during the night. Good night." He grasped the outstretched hand, in a hearty grip. He liked this family of plain people.

It was far in the night, however, before sleep came to his eyes. He lay looking through the open window into the starry sky thinking of Lida and what their love had brought them. He wondered what suffering she had endured and regretted that they loved. With such thoughts in his mind his eyes closed on dreams that were fitful as well as troublesome. The sun was hours high the next morning when he opened his eyes. As he came into a realization of where he was, across the field adjoining the yard there floated the guiding voice of a plowman turning furrows in a corn field. "Gee!Haw!Whoa!Haw." He looked in the direction of the sound