Toward eleven o'clock one morning, the Colonel, Radnor and I were established in lounging chairs in the shade of a big catalpa tree on the lawn. It was a warm day, and Rad and I were just back from a tramp to the upper pasture—a full mile from the house. We were addressing ourselves with considerable zest¹ to the frosted glasses that Solomon had just placed on the table, when we became aware of the sound of galloping² hoofs³, and a moment later Polly Mathers and her sorrel mare⁴, Tiger Lilly, appeared at the end of the sunflecked lane. An Irish setter romped⁵ at her side, and the three of them made a picture. The horse's shining coat, the dog's silky hair and Polly's own red gold curls were almost of a color. I believe the little witch had chosen the two on purpose. In her dark habit and mannish hat, with sparkling cheeks and laughing eyes, she was as pretty an apparition⁶ as ever enhanced a May morning. She waved her crop gaily⁷ and rode toward us across the lawn.
 
"Howdy!" she called, in a droll⁸ imitation of the mountain dialect. "Ain't you-uns guine to ask me to 'light a while, an' set a bit, an' talk a spell?"
 
Radnor's face had flushed quickly as he perceived who the rider was, but he held himself stiffly in the background while the Colonel and I did the honors. It was the first time, I know, that Polly and Rad had met since the night she refused to dance with him; and her appearance could only be interpreted as a desire to make amends⁹.
 
She sprang lightly to the ground, turned Tiger Lilly loose to graze about the lawn, and airily perched herself on the arm of a chair. There was nothing in her manner, at least, to suggest that her relations with any one of us were strained. After a few moments of neighborly gossip with the Colonel and me—Rad was monosyllabic and remote—she arrived at her errand. Some friends from Savannah were stopping at the Hall on their way to the Virginia hot springs, and, as is usual, when strangers visit the valley, they were planning an expedition to Luray Cave. The cave was on the other side of the mountains about ten miles from Four-Pools. Since I had not yet visited it (that was at least the reason she gave) she had come to ask the three of us to join the party on the following day.
 
Rad was sulky at first, and rather curtly¹⁰ declined on the ground that he had to attend to some business. But Polly scouted¹¹ his excuse, and added significantly that Jim Mattison had not been asked. He accepted this mark of repentance¹² with a pleased flush, and before she rode away, he had become his former cheerful self again. The Colonel also demurred¹³ on the ground that he was getting too old for such diversions, but Polly laid her hands upon his shoulders and coaxed¹⁴ him into acquiescence—even a mummy must have unbent before such persuasion¹⁵. As a matter of fact though, the Colonel was only too pleased with his invitation. It flattered him to be included with the young people, and he was immensely fond of Polly.
 
It struck me suddenly as I watched her, how like she was to that other girl, of eighteen years before. There danced in Polly's eyes the same eager joy of life that vitalized the face of the portrait over the mantelpiece upstairs. The resemblance for a moment was almost startling; I believe the same thought had come to Colonel Gaylord. The old man's eyes dwelt upon her with a sadly wistful air; and I like to feel that it was of Nannie he was thinking.
 
Radnor and I had been invited to a dance that same evening at a neighboring country house, but when the time came, I begged off on the plea of wishing to rest for the ride the next morning. The real reason, I fancy, was that I too was suffering from a touch of Radnor's trouble; and, since I had no chance of winning her, it was the part of wisdom to keep out of hearing of Polly's laugh. In any case, I went to bed and to sleep, while Rad went to the party, and I have never known exactly what happened that night.
 
 
I rose early the next morning, and as I went down stairs I saw Solomon crawling around on his hands and knees on the parlor¹⁷ floor, collecting the remnants of a French clock which had stood on the mantelpiece.
 
"How did that clock come to be broken?" I asked a trifle sharply, thinking I had caught him in a bad piece of carelessness.
 
"Cayn't say, sah," Solomon returned, rising on his knees and looking at me mournfully. "I specs ole Marsa been chastisin' young Marsa again. It's powe'ful destructive on de brick-yuh-brack."
 
I went on out of doors, wondering sadly if Radnor could have been drinking, and accusing myself for not having gone to the party and kept him straight. It was evident at breakfast that something serious had happened between him and his father. The Colonel appeared unusually grave, and Rad, after a gruff "good morning," sat staring at his plate in a dogged silence. Throughout the meal he scarcely so much as exchanged a glance with his father. I tried to talk as if I noticed nothing; and in the course of the somewhat one-sided conversation, happened to mention our proposed trip to Luray. Rad returned that he had visited the cave a good many times and did not care about going. I was puzzled at this, for I knew that the cave was not the chief attraction, but I discreetly¹⁸ dropped the subject and shortly after we rose from the table.
 
As I left the room I saw the Colonel walk over and lay his hand on Radnor's arm.
 
"You will change your mind and go, my boy," he said.
 
But Rad shook the hand off roughly and turned away. As I went on out to the stables to give orders about the horses, I felt in anything but the proper spirits for a day of merry-making. However much the Colonel may have been to blame in their quarrel of the night before—and the French clock told its own story—still I could not help but feel that Rad should have borne with him more patiently. The scene I had just witnessed in the dining-room made me miserable¹⁹. The Colonel was a proud man and apology came hard for him, his son might at least have met him half way.
 
 
Going upstairs to my room a few minutes later, I caught a glimpse through the open door, of someone standing²⁰ before the mantelpiece. Thinking it was Radnor waiting to consult me, I hurried forward and reached the threshold before I realized that it was the Colonel. He was standing with folded arms before the picture, his eyes, gleaming from under beetling²¹ brows, were devouring²² it hungrily, line by line. His face was set rigidly²³ with a look—whether of sorrow or loneliness or remorse²⁴, I do not know; but I do know that it was the saddest expression I have ever seen on any human face. It was as if, in a single illuminating²⁵ flash, he had looked into his own soul, and seen the ruin that his ungoverned pride and passion had wrought²⁶ against those he loved the most.
 
So absorbed had he been with his thoughts, that he had not heard my step. I turned and stole away, realizing suddenly that he was an old man, broken, infirm; that his life with its influence for good or evil was already at an end; he could never change his character now, no matter how keenly he might realize his defects. Poor little Nannie's wilfulness²⁷ was at last forgiven, but the forgiveness was fifteen years too late. Why could not that moment of insight have come earlier to Colonel Gaylord, have come in time to save him from his mistakes?
 
I passed out of doors again, pondering somewhat bitterly the exigencies²⁸ of human life. The bright spring morning with its promise of youth and joy seemed jarringly out of tune²⁹. The beauty was but surface deep, I told myself pessimistically; underneath³⁰ it was a cruel world. Before me in the garden path, a jubilant robin³¹ was pulling an unhappy angle worm from the ground, and a little farther on, under a blossoming apple tree, the kitchen cat was breakfasting on a baby robin. The double spectacle struck me as significant of life. I was casting about for some

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