And his hands fell into the chords of a song that he sang as a boy, and Molly came from the fire and stood beside him while they hummed the words in a low duet:-- "Let me believe that you love as you loved Long, long ago--long ago." But when he went out into the drizzling night, and he and Jane left Molly at home, he stepped into the whirling yellow world of gold and grain, and drafts and checks, and leases and mortgages, and Heaven knows what of plots and schemes and plans.

So he did not heed Jane when she said, "Poor--poor little Molly," but replied as he latched the Culpepper gate, "Oh, Molly'll be all right.

You can't mix business and pleasure, you know.

Bob must stay." And when Molly went into the house, she found her mother waiting for her.

The colonel's courage had failed him.