"Friend to the weak and comrade of the wild, By folly sired to wisdom, dauntless Hal—"
Laughter, laughter unleashed and turbulent, laughter that rose flood by flood upon itself, laughter wild, earth-shaking, thunder— cuffing, drowned Dr. George B. Rockham and all he had to say. Laughter! Laughter! Laughter!
Helen was married in the month of June—a month sacred, it is said, to Hymen, but used so often for nuptials that the god’s blessing is probably not infallible.
She had returned to Altamont in May, from her last singing engagement. She had been in Atlanta for the week of opera, and had come back by way of Henderson, where she had visited Daisy and Mrs. Selborne. There she had found her mate.
He was not a stranger to her. She had known him years before in Altamont, where he had lived for a short time as district agent for the great and humane corporation that employed him—the Federal Cash Register Company. Since that time he had gone to various parts of the country at his master’s bidding, carrying with him his great message of prosperity and thrift. At the present time, he lived with his sister and his aged mother, whose ponderous infirmity of limb had not impaired her appetite, in a South Carolina town. He was devoted and generous to them both. And the Federal Cash Register Company, touched by his devotion to duty, rewarded him with a good salary. His name was Barton. The Bartons lived well.
Helen returned with the unexpectedness in which all returning Gants delighted. She came in on members of her family, one afternoon, in the kitchen at Dixieland.
“Hello, everybody!” she said.
“Well, for G-g-god’s sake,” said Luke after a moment. “Look who’s here!”
They embraced heartily,
“Why, what on earth!” cried Eliza, putting her iron down on the board, and wavering on her feet, in an effort to walk in two directions at once. They kissed.
“I was just thinking to myself,” said Eliza, more calmly, “
