Tom put Ardea into the carriage and was giving her hand luggage to Scipio when she called to him.
"Isn't there any one here to meet you, Tom?"
"They don't know I'm coming," he explained. Whereupon she quickly made room for him, holding the door open. But he hung back.
"I reckon I'd better ride on the box with Unc' Scipio," he suggested.
"I am sure I don't know why you should," she objected.
He told her straight; or at least gave her his own view of it.
"By to-morrow morning everybody in Gordonia and Paradise Valley will know that I'm home in disgrace. It won't hurt Unc' Scipio any if I'm seen riding with him."
It was the first time that he had been given to see the Dabney imperiousness shining star-like in Miss Ardea's slate-blue eyes.
"I wish you to get your hand-bag and ride in here with me," she said, with the air of one whose wish was law. But when he was sitting opposite and the carriage door was shut, she smiled companionably across at him and added: "You foolish boy!"
"It wasn't foolish," he maintained doggedly. "I know what I ought to do—and I'm not doing it. Everybody around here knows both of us, and—"