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 Manning nodded absently; he was thinking with inward satisfaction that the income of the future Lady Maltby would doubtless exceed the revenues of this fair estate, and that this was largely due to his wise management. He had forfeited much of his youth to bring this about; had sacrificed much of his education; most pleasures to which he was entitled, and, since his seventeenth year, had applied himself to wresting a great fortune from the Carolina muck. He was satisfied with the result; there were no regrets.

Virginia and Giles had finished their set and were coming toward them. Sir Henry and Manning arose. Giles walked to where his blazer was lying, for the air was cool and he was overheated. Then he turned and came toward the others, and at the same moment Virginia, who was chatting with Sir Henry, turned to Giles with some joking reference. Manning had never seen his sister so radiant. The exercise, the sun, and the sharp air had brought the rich color into her cheeks, slightly disarranged the mass of her hair, which was black, but with a color in it which one could appreciate but not describe.

Her hazel eyes were alight, lips carmine, every feature animated. The collar of her flannel shirt waist was unbuttoned, sleeves rolled to the elbow, and she stood well forward, alert, strong, supple—the winner of the games of ancient Greece, awaiting her chaplet. Manning glanced at her with a swift throb of his keenest emotion, pride; he looked at Giles, then turned his eyes away, for he saw in that one swift scrutiny that the moment of the man's awakening had come.

It was in that psychological moment when all things 18