"I'm so glad you came in time to see your crocuses and anemones, Miss

Powers," the Jaguar said as he took my hand in his. "Dabney has let me

help him hand-weed them and they are a glory, aren't they?" While he

spoke he still held my hand and I was still too dazed to regain

possession of it. Father saved the situation.

"Sit down, sit down, Parson, and let Charlotte give you a cup of coffee

while it is on the simmer," he urged with hasty hospitality as if intent

upon effectively bottling me up, at least for the immediate present.

"She was just pouring my cup. Will you say grace before I take my first

sip?" was the high explosive he further proceeded to hurl in my face.

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And as he spoke I sank dumbly into my chair and helplessly bowed my head

to a ceremony so obsolete in the world from which I had come that I felt

as if I was slipping back into the days of the pioneer, when the customs

of life were still primitive and dictated by emotion rather than mental

science.

And there, with father's concealed mint julep right against his

interlaced fingers, the mountain lion bowed his crested head and

involved me in prayer for the first time since chapel-service in my

college days.

"The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof ... for which we give

thanks, thy children, with Lord Jesus, Amen!"

"Amen," mumbled father as if from the depths of embarrassment, and

against my will, as it were, a queer sort of a croon of an echo came

from my own throat.

Also that was the first time I had ever heard words of prayer under the

roof of the Poplars. It embarrassed me and I hated it and the cause of

it. The spell which had possessed me since the entrance of the Reverend

Goodloe, vanished, and the rage that had been in me at the discovery of

the intrusion of his chapel and himself upon my life when I had come

home to be free to be wicked, boiled up within me and then sugared down

to a rich--and dangerous--syrup. While I poured his coffee I again took

stock of him, this time coldly and with deadly intent. The reasons for

his entry into my hitherto satisfactory family life, even at breakfast

time, I did not know, any more than I knew the reason for the chapel on

the other side of the hollyhocks, but I felt that I feared both and

intended to get rid of them. If the enemy had been what one could

reasonably expect a young Methodist preacher to be, I would have routed

him and his meekness within the hour and had the chapel moved to a lot

on a side street in town within the week. However, when a hunter comes

suddenly upon a Harpeth jaguar he is glad to use his best repeater and

he is careful how he shoots, though if he is very skillful he may tease

the lion aloft with a few nipping shots. I felt suddenly very strong for

the fight that I knew was on, though the lion didn't possess that

knowledge as yet. Deliberately I fired a preliminary bullet that seemed

to graze father, though it left the Parson unharmed.




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