CHAPTER EIGHT.
"Hello, Carlia", greeted Dorian as he stopped at the yard and stood leaning against the fence.
Carlia was just finishing milking a cow.

As she straightened, with a three-legged stool in one hand and a foaming milk pail in the other, she looked toward Dorian.

"O, is that you?
You scared me." "Why ?" "A stranger coming so suddenly." The young man laughed.

"Nearly through ?" he asked.
"Just one more--Brindle, the kickey one." "Aren't you afraid of her ?" Carlia laughed scornfully.

The girl had beautiful white teeth.