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brother.
    “A penny for your thoughts,” Bud Ellis said.
    “I was thinking,” Nora said, “of the words ‘homely’ and ‘beautiful’—of the terrible importance people attach to whether somebody’s nose is too long or their eyes too close together. How it must puzzle the angels!”
    “You’re way over my head,” Bud Ellis said, and got up and joined his grandfather and Mr. Potter at the far end of the living-room.
    The sun had gone down but the heat remained on into the long July twilight. The curtains hung limp and still. In the dining-room Thelma moved about, putting away silver and china. The word “nigger”, which was so often on the lips of the Southerners, she did not appear to notice, and the Potters were unaware of any lack of tact on their part, even when Austin King got up quietly and closed the dining-room doors.
    Martha King had settled down for the evening beside Dr. Danforth, who was old enough to be her father and whose fondness for her was uncritical and of long standing. Though his infirmity—he was hard of hearing—sometimes made him difficult to talk to, she was utterly at ease and herself with him, knowing as she did that if she were to lean forward and say to him: I
think I’ve killed somebody
, the expression on his face might change from pleasure to concern, but the concern would be for her, and he would probably say:
You did? Well, my dear, I’m sure you had some very good reason for doing it. Can you manage by yourself or do you need my help?
    After a while, Mrs. Potter called across the room to her. “Martha, change places with me. You’ve had that delightful man to yourself long enough!”
    This move having been accomplished, Mrs. Potter sat fanningherself and smiling around at the company for a moment or two. Then, turning to Dr. Danforth, she said, “Warm, isn’t it?”
    “I didn’t catch that?” Dr. Danforth said, and cupped his hand behind his ear.
    “I say it’s very
warm
!”
    “Ninety-six in the shade on the east side of the courthouse at two o’clock this afternoon,” Dr. Danforth said.
    “If I’d known it was going to be like this up North,” Mrs. Potter said, fanning him as well as herself, “I’d never have had the courage to pack up and come. And in that case, I’d have missed knowing you, Mr. Danverse.”
    “Danforth … Dr. Danforth. I’m a veterinary.”
    “Well you must just excuse me. I’ve met so many charming people here this evening, and as I get older I have trouble remembering names. My girlhood friend, Clara Huber, from Greenville, Mississippi, has a daughter who married a man named Danforth. I wonder if you could be any kin?”
    “My people come from Vermont,” Dr. Danforth said.
    “Now isn’t that unusual,” Mrs. Potter said. “You hardly ever meet anyone who comes from Vermont. Not down home, anyway. But I was going to say, if you’re a horse-doctor, you must like horses, so why don’t you come down and visit us? We’ve got a whole stable full of horses you could ride. I tell Mr. Potter he’s fonder of horseflesh than he is of his wife. Just joking, you know … I say
just joking.…
Yes. But seriously, Mr. Danforth, you ought to come down to Mississippi. You’ve never seen cotton growing, have you? Well, you’ll find it interesting. A field of cotton is a beautiful sight if you can just look at it and not have to worry about the practical side. The menfolks will show you around the plantation. The old slave quarters and the live oaks with moss hanging from them. You don’t have anything like that up North, do you? And the family burial ground. Just drop us a penny post card and let us know when you’re arriving. We’re simple country folks. We don’t put on any dog. But Mr. Potter loves company andso do I, and we’ll show you a good time, you and your very charming wife.”
    Mrs. Potter had already asked several other people to come and stay at the plantation and each invitation had started, in the person who