gripped themselves around the handles of his kit until the nails went
white with the strain.

"Yes, I'll tell 'em," answered Uncle Tucker with a distressed quaver
coming into his voice as he took in the fact that Everett's hurried
departure was inevitable. "I'm sorry you have got to go, boy, but I'll
help you get off if it's important for you. I'll have them get your
supper early and put up a snack for the train."

"I don't want anything--that is, it doesn't matter about supper. I--I
will be back to see Miss Lavinia and Miss Amanda before they retire."
And Everett's voice was quiet with a calmness that belied the lump in
his throat at the very mention of the farewell to be said to the two
little old flower ladies.

"I'll go on and tell 'em now," said Uncle Tucker with an even
increased gloom in his face and voice. "Breaking bad news to women
folks is as nervous a work as dropping a basket of eggs; you never can
tell in which direction the lamentations are a-going to spatter and
spoil things. I'll go get the worst of the muss over before you get
back."

"Thank you," answered Everett with both a laugh and a catch in his
voice as they separated, he going out through the field and over the
hill and Uncle Tucker along the path to the house.

And a little later Uncle Tucker found Rose Mary moving alone knee deep
in the flowers and fruit of her beloved garden. For long moments she
bent over the gray-green, white-starred bed of cinnamon pinks which
sent up an Arabian fragrance into her face as she carefully threaded