He found himself talking quite confidentially to the lifted head, arched eyebrows, and aquiline nose beside him, and even thinking what a handsome high-bred BROTHER she might have been to some one.

When they had reached the house, in compliance with the familiar custom, he sat down on one of the lower steps of the veranda, while she, shaking out her skirt, took a seat a step or two above him.

This enabled him, after the languid local fashion, to lean on his elbow and gaze up into the eyes of the young lady, while she with equal languor looked down upon him.

But in the present instance Miss Reed leaned forward suddenly, and darting a sharp quick glance into his very consciousness said:-- "And yo' mean to say, co'nnle, there's nothing between yo' and Sally Dows ?" Courtland neither flushed, trembled, grew confused, nor prevaricated.
"We are good friends, I think," he replied quietly, without evasion or hesitation.
Miss Reed looked at him thoughtfully, "I reckon that is so--and no more.
And that's why yo' 've been so lucky in everything," she said slowly.
"I don't think I quite understand," returned Courtland, smiling.

"Is this a paradox--or a consolation ?" "It's the TRUTH," said Miss Reed gravely.