THE LATE MRS NULL

BY

FRANK R. STOCKTON

1886

CHAPTER I. 

There was a wide entrance gate to the old family mansion of Midbranch, but it was never opened to admit the family or visitors; althoughoccasionally a load of wood, drawn by two horses and two mules, camebetween its tall chestnut posts, and was taken by a roundabout way amongthe trees to a spot at the back of the house, where the chips of severalgenerations of sturdy wood-choppers had formed a ligneous soil deeperthan the arable surface of any portion of the nine hundred and fiftyacres which formed the farm of Midbranch. This seldom opened gate was ina corner of the lawn, and the driving of carriages, or the riding ofhorses through it to the porch at the front of the house would have beenthe ruin of the short, thick grass which had covered that lawn, it wasgenerally believed, ever since Virginia became a State. 

But there had to be some way for people who came in carriages or onhorseback to get into the house, and therefore the fence at the bottomof the lawn, at a point directly in front of the porch, was crossed by aset of broad wooden steps, five outside and five inside, with a platformat the top. These stairs were wide enough to accommodate eight peopleabreast; so that if a large carriage load of visitors arrived, none ofthem need delay in crossing the fence. At the outside of the steps ranthe narrow road which entered the plantation a quarter of a mile away, and passed around the lawn and the garden to the barns and stables atthe back. 

On the other side of the road, undivided from it by hedge or fence, stretched, like a sea gently moved by a groundswell, a vast field, sometimes planted in tobacco, and sometimes in wheat. In the midst ofthis field stood a tall persimmon tree which yearly dropped itshalf-candied fruit upon the first light snow of the winter. It is truethat persimmons, quite fit to eat, were to be found on this tree at anearlier period than this, but such fruit was never noticed by the peoplein those parts, who would not rudely wrench from Jack Frost his onelittle claim to rivalry with the sun as a fruit-ripener. To the right ofthe field was a wide extent of pasture land, running down to a smallstream, or "branch, " which, flowing between two other streams of thesame kind a mile or two on either side of it, had given its name to theplace. In front, to the left, lay a great forest of chestnut, oak, sassafras, and sweet gum, with here and there a clump of tall pines, standing up straight and stiff with an air of Puritanic condemnation ofthe changing fashions of the foliage about them. 

On one side of the platform of the broad stile, which has beenmentioned, sat one summer afternoon, the lady of the house. She was ayoung woman, and although her face was a good deal shadowed by herfar-spreading hat, it was easy to perceive that she was a handsome one. She was the niece of Mr Robert Brandon, the elderly bachelor who ownedMidbranch; and her mother, long since dead, had called her Roberta, which was as near as she could come to the name of her only brother. 

Miss Roberta's father was a man whose mind and time were entirely givenup to railroads; and although he nominally lived in New York, he was, for the greater part of the year, engaged in endeavors to forward hisinterests somewhere west of the Mississippi. Two or three months of thewinter were generally spent in his city home. At these times he had hisdaughter with him, but the rest of the year she lived with her uncle, whose household she directed with much good will and judgment. The oldgentleman did not keep her all the summer at Midbranch. He knew what wasnecessary for a young lady who had been educated in Germany andSwitzerland, and who had afterwards made a very favorable impression inParis and London; and so, during the hot weather, he took her with himto one of the fashionable Southern resorts, where they always stayedexactly six weeks. 

The gentleman who was sitting on the other side of the platform, withhis face turned towards her, had known Miss Roberta for a year or more, having met her at the North, and also in the Virginia mountains; andbeing now on a visit to the Green Sulphur Springs, about four miles fromMidbranch, he rode over to see her nearly every day. There was nothingsurprising in this, because the Green Sulphur, once a much frequentedresort, had seen great changes, and now, although the end of the regularseason had not arrived, it had Mr Lawrence Croft for its only guest. There was a spacious hotel there; there was a village of cottages ofvarying sizes; there were buildings for servants and managers; there wasa ten-pin alley and a quiet ground; there were arbors and swings; and asquare hole in a stone slab, through which a little pool of greenishwater could be seen, with a tin cup, somewhat rusty, lying by it. Butall was quiet and deserted, except one cottage, in which the man livedwho had charge of the place, and where Mr Croft boarded. It was verypleasant for him to ride over to Midbranch and take a walk with MissRoberta; and this was what they had been doing to-day. 

Horseback rides had been suggested, but Mr Brandon objected to these. Heknew Mr Croft to be a young man of good family and very comfortablefortune, and he liked him very much when he had him there to dinner, buthe did not wish his niece to go galloping around the country with him. To quiet walks in the woods, and through the meadows, he could, ofcourse, have no objection. A good many of Mr Brandon's principles, likecertain of his books, were kept upon a top shelf, but Miss Robertaalways liked to humor the few which the old gentleman was wont tohave within easy reach. 

This afternoon they had rambled through the woods, where the hard, smooth road wound picturesquely through the places in which it had beeneasiest to make a road, and where the great trunks of the trees werepartly covered by clinging vines, which Miss Roberta knew to be eitherVirginia creeper or poison oak, although she did not remember which ofthese had clusters of five leaves, and which of three. 

The horse on which Mr Croft had ridden over from the Springs was tied toa fence near by, and he now seemed to indicate by his restless movementsthat it was quite time for the gentleman to go home; but with thisopinion Mr Croft decidedly differed. He had had a long walk with thelady and plenty of opportunities to say anything that he might choose, but still there was something very important which had not been said, and which Mr Croft very much wished to say before he left Miss Robertathat afternoon. His only reason for hesitation was the fact that he didnot know what he wished to say. 

He was a man who always kept a lookout on the bows of his daily action;in storm or in calm, in fog or in bright sunshine that lookout must beat his post; and upon his reports it depended whether Mr Croft set moresail, put on more steam, reversed his engine, or anchored his vessel. Areport from this lookout was what he hoped to elicit by the remarkwhich he wished to make. He desired greatly to know whether Miss RobertaMarch looked upon him in the light of a lover, or in that of an intimateacquaintance, whose present intimacy depended a good deal upon thepropinquity of Midbranch and the Green Sulphur Springs. He hadendeavored to produce upon her mind the latter impression. If he everwished her to regard him as a lover he could do this in the easiest andmost straightforward way, but the other procedure was much moredifficult, and he was not certain that he had succeeded in it. How tofind out in what light she viewed him without allowing the lady toperceive his purpose was a very delicate operation. 

"I wish, " said Miss Roberta, poking with the end of her parasol at somehalf-withered wild flowers which lay on the steps beneath her, "that youwould change your mind, and take supper with us. "

Mr Croft's mind was very busy in endeavoring to think of some casualremark, some observation regarding man, nature, or society, or even ananecdote or historical incident, which, if brought into theconversation, might produce upon the lady's countenance some shade ofexpression, or some variation in her tone or words which would give himthe information he sought for. But what he said was: "Are they reallysuppers that you have, or are they only teas?"

"Now I know, " said the lady, "why you have sometimes taken dinner withus, but never supper. You were afraid that it would be a tea. "

Lawrence Croft was thinking that if this girl believed that he was inlove with her, it would make a great deal of difference in his presentcourse of action. If such were the case, he ought not to come here sooften, or, in fact, he ought not to come at all, until he had decidedfor himself what he was going to do. But what could he say that wouldcause her, for the briefest moment, to unveil her idea of himself. "Inever could endure, " he said, "those meals which consist of thinshavings of bread with thick plasters of butter, aided and abetted bysweet cakes, preserves, and tea. "

"You should have reserved those remarks, " she said, "until you had foundout what sort of evening meal we have. "

He could certainly say something, he thought. Perhaps it might be somelittle fanciful story which would call up in her mind, without hisappearing to intend it, some thought of his relationship to her as alover--that is, if she had ever had such a notion. If this could bedone, her face would betray the fact. But, not being ready to make sucha remark, he said: "I beg your pardon, but do you really have suppers inthe English fashion?"

"Oh, no, " answered Miss Roberta, "we don't have a great cold joint, withold cheese, and pitchers of brown stout and ale, but neither do wecontent ourselves with thin bread and butter, and preserves. We havecoffee as well as tea, hot rolls, fleecy and light, hot batter breadmade of our finest corn meal, hot biscuits and stewed fruit, with plentyof sweet milk and buttermilk; and, if anybody wants it, he can always havea slice of cold ham. "

"If I could only feel sure, " thought Mr Croft, "that she looked upon memerely as an acquaintance, I would cease to trouble my mind on thissubject, and let everything go on as before. But I am not sure, and Iwould rather not come here again until I am. " "And at what hour, " heasked, "do you partake of a meal like that?"

"In summer time, " said Miss Roberta, "we have supper when it is darkenough to light the lamps. My uncle dislikes very much to be deprived, by the advent of a meal, of the out-door enjoyment of a late afternoon, or, as we call it down here, the evening. "

"It would be easy enough, " thought Mr Croft, "for me to say somethingabout my being suddenly obliged to go away, and then notice its effectupon her. But, apart from the fact that I would not do anything sovulgar and commonplace, it would not advantage me in the slightestdegree. She would see through the flimsiness of my purpose, and, nomatter how she looked upon me, would show nothing but a well-bred regretthat I should be obliged to go away at such a pleasant season. " "I thinkthe hour for your supper, " said he, "is a very suitable one, but I amnot sure that such a variety of hot bread would agree with me. "

"Did you ever see more healthy-looking ladies and gentlemen than youfind in Virginia?" asked Miss March. 

"It is not that I want to know if she looks favorably upon me, " saidLawrence Croft to himself, "for when I wish to discover that, I shallsimply ask her. What I wish now to know is whether, or not, sheconsiders me at all as a lover. There surely must be something I can saywhich will give me a clew. " "The Virginians, as a rule, " he replied, "are certainly a very well-grown and vigorous race. "

"In spite of the hot bread, " she said with a smile. 

Just then Mr Croft believed himself struck by a happy thought. "You arenot prepared, I suppose, to say, in consequence of it; and that recallsthe fact that so much in this world happens in spite of things, insteadof in consequence of them. "

"I don't know that I exactly understand, " said Miss Roberta. 

"Well, for instance, " said Mr Croft, "take the case of marriage. Don'tyou think that a man is more apt to marry in spite of his belief that hewould be much better off as a bachelor, than in consequence of aconviction that a Benedict's life would suit him better?"

"That, " said she, "depends a good deal on the woman. "

As she said this Lawrence glanced quickly at her to observe theexpression of her countenance. The countenance plainly indicated thatits owner had suddenly been made aware that the afternoon was slippingaway, and that she had forgotten certain household duties that devolvedupon her. 

"Here comes Peggy, " she said, "and I must go into the house and give outsupper. Don't you now think it would be well for you to follow ourdiscussion of a Virginia supper by eating one?"

At this moment, there arrived at the bottom of the inside steps, a smallgirl, very black, very solemn, and very erect, with her hands folded infront of her very straight up-and-down calico frock, her featuresexpressive of a wooden stolidity which nothing but a hammer or chiselcould alter, and with large eyes fixed upon a far-away, which, apparently, had disappeared, leaving the eyes in a condition of idleout-go. 

"Miss Rob, " said this wooden Peggy, "Aun' Judy says it's more'n time tocome housekeep. "

"Which means, " said Miss Roberta, rising, "that I must go and get my keybasket, and descend into the store-room. Won't you come in? We shallfind uncle on the back porch. "

Mr Croft declined with thanks, and took his leave, and the lady walkedacross the smooth grass to the house, followed by the rigid Peggy. 

The young man approached his impatient horse, and, not without somedifficulty, got himself mounted. He had not that facility ofsympathetically combining his own will and that of his horse which comesto men who from their early boyhood are wont to consider horses asobjects quite as necessary to locomotion as shoes and stockings. ButLawrence Croft was a fair graduate of a riding school, and he went awayin very good style to his cottage at the Green Sulphur Springs. "Ibelieve, " he said to himself, as he rode through the woods, "that MissMarch expects no more of me than she would expect of any very intimatefriend. I shall feel perfectly free, therefore, to continue myinvestigations regarding two points: First, is she worth having? and:Second, will she have me? And I must be very careful not to get theposition of these points reversed. "

When Miss Roberta went into the store-room, it was Peggy, who, under thesupervision of her mistress, measured out the fine white flour for thebiscuits for supper. Peggy was being educated to do these thingsproperly, and she knew exactly how many times the tin scoop must fillitself in the barrel for the ordinary needs of the family. Miss Robertastood, her eyes contemplatively raised to the narrow window, throughwhich she could see a flush of sunset mingling itself with the outerair; and Peggy scooped once, twice, thrice, four times; then shestopped, and, raising her head, there came into the far-away gloom ofher eyes a quick sparkle like a flash of black lightning. She madeanother and entirely supplementary scoop, and then she stopped, and letthe tin utensil fall into the barrel with a gentle thud. 

"That will do, " said Miss Roberta. 

That night, when she should have been in her bed, Peggy sat alone by thehearth in Aunt Judy's cabin, baking a cake. It was a peculiar cake, forshe could get no sugar for it, but she had supplied this deficiency withmolasses. It was made of Miss Roberta's finest white flour, and eggs therewere in it and butter, and it contained, besides, three raisins, an olive, and a prune. When the outside of the cake had been sufficiently baked, andevery portion of it had been scrupulously eaten, the good little Peggymurmured to herself: "It's pow'ful comfortin' for Miss Rob to have sumfin'on her min'. "

CHAPTER II. 

About a week after Mr Lawrence Croft had had his conversation with MissMarch on the stile steps at Midbranch, he was obliged to return to hishome in New York. He was not a man of business, but he had business;and, besides this, he considered if he continued much longer to residein the utterly attractionless cottage at the Green Sulphur Springs, androde over every day to the very attractive house at Midbranch, that thepoints mentioned in the previous chapter might get themselves reversed. He was a man who was proud of being, under all circumstances, frank andhonest with himself. He did not wish, if it could be avoided, to deceiveother people, but he was prudent and careful about exhibiting hismotives and intended course of action to his associates. Himself, however, he took into his strictest confidence. He was fond of the ideathat he went into the battle of life covered and protected by a greatshield, but that the inside of the shield was a mirror in which he couldalways see himself. Looking into this mirror, he now saw that, if he didnot soon get away from Miss Roberta, he would lay down his shield andsurrender, and it was his intent that this should not happen until hewished it to happen. 

It was very natural when Lawrence reached New York, that he should takepleasure in talking about Miss Roberta March and her family with any onewho knew them. He was particularly anxious, if he could do so delicatelyand without exciting any suspicion of his object, to know as much aspossible about Sylvester March, the lady's father. In doing this, he didnot feel that he was prying into the affairs of others, but he could notbe true to himself unless he looked well in advance before he made thestep on which his mind was set. It was in this way that he happened tolearn that about two years before, Miss March had been engaged to bemarried, but that the engagement had been broken off for reasons notknown to his informants, and he could find out nothing about thegentleman, except that his name was Junius Keswick. 

The fact that the lady had had a lover, put her in a new light beforeLawrence Croft. He had had an idea, suggested by the very friendlynature of their intercourse, that she was a woman whose mind did not runout to love or marriage, but now that he knew that she was susceptibleof being wooed and won, because these things had actually happened toher, he was very glad that he had come away from Midbranch. 

The impression soon became very strong upon the mind of Lawrence that hewould like to know what kind of man was this former lover. He had knownMiss March about a year, and at the time of his first acquaintaince withher, she must have come very fresh from this engagement. To study theman to whom Roberta March had been willing to engage herself, was, toLawrence's mode of thinking, if not a prerequisite procedure in hiscontemplated course of action, at least a very desirable one. 

But he was rather surprised to find that no one knew much about MrJunius Keswick, or could give him any account of his presentwhereabouts, although he had been, at the time when his engagement wasin force, a resident of New York. To consult a directory was, therefore, an obvious first step in the affair; and, with this intent, Mr Croftentered, one morning, an apothecary's shop in a street which, though abusy one, was in a rather out-of-the-way part of the city. 

"We haven't any directory, sir, " said the clerk, "but if you will stepacross the street you can find one at that little shop with the greendoor. Everybody goes there to look at the directory. "

The green door on the opposite side of the street, approached by asingle flat step of stone, had a tin sign upon it, on which was painted:

"INFORMATIONOF EVERY VARIETYFURNISHED WITHIN. "

Pushing open the door, Lawrence entered a long, narrow room, not verywell lighted, with a short counter on one side, and some desks, partially screened by a curtain, at the farther end. A boy was behindthe counter, and to him Lawrence addressed himself, asking permission tolook at a city directory. 

"One cent, if you look yourself; three cents, if we look, " said the boy, producing a thick volume from beneath the counter. 

"One cent?" said Lawrence, smiling at the oddity of this charge, as heopened the book and turned to the letter K. 

"Yes, " said the boy, "and if the fine print hurts your eyes, we'll lookfor three cents. "

At this moment a man came from one of the desks at the other end of theroom, and handed the boy a letter with which that young personimmediately departed. The new-comer, a smooth-shaven man of aboutthirty, with the air of the proprietor or head manager very strong uponhim, took the boy's position behind the counter, and remarked toLawrence: "Most people, when they first come here, think it rather queerto pay for looking at the directory, but you see we don't keep adirectory to coax people to come in to buy medicines or anything else. We sell nothing but information, and part of our stock is what you getout of a directory. But it's the best plan all round, for we can affordto give you a clean, good book instead of one all jagged and worn; andas you pay your money, you feel you can look as long as you like, andcome when you please. "

"It is a very good plan, " said Lawrence, closing the book, "but the nameI want is not here. "

"Perhaps it is in last year's directory, " said the man, producinganother volume from under the counter. 

"That wouldn't do me much good, " said Lawrence. "I want to know wheresome one resides this year. "

"It will do a great deal of good, " said the other, "for if we know wherea person has lived, inquiries can be made there as to where he has gone. Sometimes we go back three or four years, and when we have once found aman's name, we follow him up from place to place until we can give theinquirer his present address. What is the name you wanted, sir? You werelooking in the K's. "

"Keswick, " said Lawrence, "Junius Keswick. "

The man ran his finger and his eyes down a column, and remarked: "Thereis Keswick, but it is Peter, laborer; I suppose that isn't the party. "

Lawrence smiled, and shook his head. 

"We will take the year before that, " said the man with cheerfulalacrity, heaving up another volume. "Here's two Keswicks, " he said in amoment, "one John, and the other Stephen W. Neither of them right?"

"No, " said Lawrence, "my man is Junius, and we need not go any fartherback. I am afraid the person I am looking for was only a sojourner inthe city, and that his name did not get into the directory. I know thathe was here year before last. "

"All right, sir, " said the other, pushing aside the volume he hadbeen consulting. "We'll find the man for you from the hotel books, andwhat is more, we can see those two Keswicks that I found last. Perhapsthey were relations of his, and he was staying with them. If you put thematter in our hands, we'll give you the address to-morrow night, provided it's an ordinary case. But if he has gone to Australia orJapan, of course, it'll take longer. Is it crime or relationship?"

"Neither, " replied Lawrence. 

"It is generally one of them, " said the man, "and if it's crime we carryit on to a certain point, and then put it into the hands of thedetectives, for we've nothing to do with police business, private orotherwise. But if it's relationship, we'll go right through with it tothe end. Any kind of information you may want we'll give you here;scientific, biographical, business, healthfulness of localities, genuineness of antiquities, age and standing of individuals, purity ofliquors or teas from sample, Bible items localized, china verified; infact, anything you want to know we can tell you. Of course we don'tpretend that we know all these things, but we know the people who doknow, or who can find them out. By coming to us, and paying a small sum, the most valuable information, which it would take you years to findout, can be secured with certainty, and generally in a few days. We knowwhat to do, and where to go, and that's the point. If it's a new bug, ora microscope insect we put it into the hands of a man who knows justwhat high scientific authority to apply to; if it's the middle name ofyour next door neighbor we'll give it to you from his baptismal record. I'm getting up a pamphlet-circular which will be ready in about a week, and which will fully explain our methods of business, with the chargesfor the different items, etc. "

"Well, " said Lawrence, taking out his pocket-book, "I want the addressof Junius Keswick, and I think I will let you look it up for me. What isyour charge?"

"It will be two dollars, " said the man, "ordinary; and if we findinquiries run into other countries we will make special terms. And thenthere's seven cents, one for your look, and two threes for ours. Youshall hear from us to-morrow night at your hotel or residence, unlessyou prefer to call here. "

"I will call the day after to-morrow, " said Lawrence, producing afive-dollar note. 

"Very good, " replied the proprietor. "Will you please pay the cashier?"pointing at the same time to a desk behind Lawrence which the latter hadnot noticed. 

Approaching this desk, the top of which, except for a small space infront, was surrounded by short curtains, he saw a young girl busilyengaged in reading a book. He proffered her the note, the proprietor atthe same time calling out: "Two, seven. "

The girl turned the book down to keep the place; then she took the note, and opened a small drawer, in which she fumbled for some moments. Closing the drawer, she rose to her feet and waved the note over thecurtain to her right. "Haven't any change, eh?" said the man, comingfrom behind the counter, and putting on his hat. "As the boy's not here, I'll step out and get it. "

The girl turned up her book, and began to read again, and Lawrence stoodand looked at her, wondering what need there was of a cashier in a placelike this. She appeared to be under twenty, rather thin-faced, and wasplainly dressed. In a few moments she raised her eyes from her book, andsaid: "Won't you sit down, sir? I am sorry you have to wait, but we areshort of change to-day, and sometimes it is hard to get it in thisneighborhood. "

Lawrence declined to be seated, but was very willing to talk. "Was itthe proprietor of this establishment, " he asked, "who went out to getthe money changed??"

"Yes, sir, " she answered. "That is Mr Candy. "

"A queer name, " said Lawrence, smiling. 

The girl looked up at him, and smiled in return. There was a veryperceptible twinkle in her eyes, which seemed to be eyes that would liketo be merry ones, and a slight movement of the corners of her mouthwhich indicated a desire to say something in reply, but, restrainedprobably by loyalty to her employer, or by prudent discretion regardingconversation with strangers, she was silent. 

Lawrence, however, continued his remarks. "The whole business seems tome very odd. Suppose I were to come here and ask for information as towhere I could get a five-dollar note changed; would Mr Candy be able totell me?"

"He would do in that case just as he does in all others, " she said;"first, he would go and find out, and then he would let you know. Givinginformation is only half the business; finding things out is the otherhalf. That's what he's doing now. "

"So, when he comes back, " said Lawrence, "he'll have a new bit ofinformation to add to his stock on hand, which must be a very peculiarone, I fancy. "

The cashier smiled. "Yes, " she said, "and a very useful one, too, ifpeople only knew it. "

"Don't they know it?" asked Lawrence. "Don't you have plenty of custom?"

At this moment the door opened, Mr Candy entered, and the conversationstopped. 

"Sorry to keep you waiting, sir, " said the proprietor, passing somemoney to the cashier over the curtain, who, thereupon, handed twodollars and ninety-three cents to Lawrence through the little opening infront. 

"If you call the day after to-morrow, the information will be ready foryou, " said Mr Candy, as the gentleman departed. 

On the appointed day, Lawrence came again, and found nobody in the placebut the cashier, who handed him a note. 

"Mr Candy left this for you, in case he should not be in when youcalled, " she said. 

The note stated that the search for the address of Junius Keswick hadopened very encouragingly, but as it was quite evident that said personwas not now in the city, the investigations would have to be carried onon a more extended scale, and a deposit of three dollars would benecessary to meet expenses. 

Lawrence looked from the note to the cashier, who had been watching himas he read. "Does Mr Candy want me to leave three dollars with you?" heasked. 

"That's what he said, sir. "

"Well, " said Lawrence, "I don't care about paying for unlimitedinvestigation in this way. If the gentleman I am in search of has leftthe city, and Mr Candy has been able to find out to what place he went, he should have told me that, and I would have decided whether or not Iwanted him to do anything more. "

The face of the cashier appeared troubled. "I think, sir, " she said, "that if you leave the money, Mr Candy will do all he can to discoverwhat you wish to know, and that it will not be very long before you havethe address of the person you are seeking. "

"Do you really think he has any clew?" asked Lawrence. 

This question did not seem to please the cashier, and she answeredgravely, though without any show of resentment: "That is a strangequestion after I advised you to leave the money. "

Lawrence had a kind heart, and it reproached him. "I beg your pardon, "said he. "I will leave the money with you, but I desire that Mr Candywill, in his next communication, give me all the information he hasacquired up to the moment of writing, and then I will decide whether itis worth while to go on with the matter, or not. "

He, thereupon, took out his pocket-book and handed three dollars to thecashier, who, with an air of deliberate thoughtfulness, smoothed out thetwo notes, and placed them in her drawer. Then she said: "If you willleave your address, sir, I will see that you receive your information assoon as possible. That will be better than for you to call, because Ican't tell you when to come. "

"Very well, " said Lawrence, "and I will be obliged to you if you willhurry up Mr Candy as much as you can. " And, handing her his card, hewent his way. 

The way of Lawrence Croft was generally a very pleasant one, for thefortunate conditions of his life made it possible for him to go aroundmost of the rough places which might lie in it. His family was an oldone, and a good one, but there was very little of it left, and of itsscattered remnants he was the most important member. But althoughcircumstances did not force him to do anything in particular, he likedto believe that he was a rigid master to himself, and whatever he didwas always done with a purpose. When he travelled he had an object inview; when he stayed at home the case was the same. 

His present purpose was the most serious one of his life: he wished tomarry; and, if she should prove to be the proper person, he wished tomarry Roberta March; and as a preliminary step in the carrying out ofhis purpose, he wanted very much to know what sort of man Miss March hadonce been willing to marry. 

When five days had elapsed without his hearing from Mr Candy, he becameimpatient and betook himself to the green door with the tin sign. Entering, he found only the boy and the cashier. Addressing himself tothe latter, he asked if anything had been done in his business. 

"Yes, sir, " she said, "and I hoped Mr Candy would write you a letterthis morning before he went out, but he didn't. He traced the gentlemanto Niagara Falls, and I think you'll hear something very soon. "

"If inquiries have to be carried on outside of the city, " said Lawrence, "they will probably cost a good deal, and come to nothing. I think Iwill drop the matter as far as Mr Candy is concerned. "

"I wish you would give us a little more time, " said the girl. "I am sureyou will hear something in a few days, and you need not be afraid therewill be anything more to pay unless you are satisfied that you havereceived the full worth of the money. "

Lawrence reflected for a few moments, and then concluded to let thematter go on. "Tell Mr Candy to keep me frequently informed of theprogress of the affair, " said he, "and if he is really of any service tome I am willing to pay him, but not otherwise. "

"That will be all right, " said the cashier, "and if Mr Candy is--isprevented from doing it, I'll write to you myself, and keep youposted. "

As soon as the customer had gone, the boy, who had been sitting on thecounter, thus spoke to the cashier: "You know very well that oldMintstick has given that thing up!"

"I know he has, " said the girl, "but I have not. "

"You haven't anything to do with it, " said the boy. 

"Yes, I have, " she answered. "I advised that gentleman to pay his money, and I'm not going to see him cheated out of it. Of course, Mr Candydoesn't mean to cheat him, but he has gone into that business about theorigin of the tame blackberry, and there's no knowing when he'll getback to this thing, which is not in his line, anyway. "

"I should say it wasn't!" exclaimed the boy with a loud laugh. "Sendin'me to look up them two Keswicks, who was both put down as cordwainers inyear before last's directory, and askin' 'em if there was any Juniusesin their families. "

"Junius Keswick, did you say? Is that the name of the gentleman Mr Candywas looking for?"

"Yes, " said the boy. 

Presently the cashier remarked: "I am going to look at the books. " Andshe betook herself to the desk at the back part of the shop. 

In about half an hour she returned and handed to the boy a memorandumupon a scrap of paper. "You go out now to your lunch, " she said, "andwhile you are out, stop at the St. Winifred Hotel, where Mr Candy foundthe name of Junius Keswick, and see if it is not down again not longafter the date which I have put on this slip of paper. I think if aperson went to Niagara Falls he'd be just as likely to make a littletrip of it and come back again as to keep travelling on, which Mr Candysupposes he did. If you find the name again, put down the date of arrivalon this, and see if there was any memorandum about forwarding letters. "

"All right, " said the boy. "But I'll be gone an hour and a half. Can'tcut into my lunch time. "

In the course of a few days Lawrence Croft received a note signed Candy& Co. "per" some illegible initials, which stated that Mr Junius Keswickhad been traced to a boarding-house in the city, but as theestablishment had been broken up for some time, endeavors were now beingmade to find the lady who had kept the house, and when this was done itwould most likely be possible to discover from her where Mr Keswick hadgone. 

Lawrence waited a few days and then called at the Information Shop. Again was Mr Candy absent; and so was the boy. The cashier informed himthat she had found--that is, that the lady who kept the boarding-househad been found--and she thought she remembered the gentlemen inquestion, and promised, as soon as she could, to look through a book, inwhich she used to keep directions for the forwarding of letters, and inthis way another clew might soon be expected. 

"This seems to be going on better, " said Lawrence, "but Mr Candy doesn'tshow much in the affair. Who is managing it? You?"

The girl blushed and then laughed, a little confusedly. "I am only thecashier, " she said. 

"And the laborious duties of your position would, of course, give you notime for anything else, " remarked Lawrence. 

"Oh, well, " said the girl, "of course it is easy enough for any one tosee that I haven't much to do as cashier, but the boy and Mr Candy arenearly always out, looking up things, and I have to do other businessbesides attending to cash. "

"If you are attending to my business, " said Lawrence, "I am very glad, especially now that it has reached the boarding-house stage, where Ithink a woman will be better able to work than a man. Are you doing thisentirely independent of Mr Candy?"

"Well, sir, " said the cashier, with an honest, straightforward lookfrom her gray eyes that pleased Lawrence, "I may as well confess that Iam. But there's nothing mean about it. He has all the same as given itup, for he's waiting to hear from a man at Niagara, who will never writeto him, and probably hasn't any thing to write, and as I advised you topay the money I feel bound in honor to see that the business is done, ifit can be done. "

"Have you a brother or a husband to help you in these investigations andsearches?" asked Lawrence. 

"No, " said the cashier with a smile. "Sometimes I send our boy, and asto boarding houses, I can go to them myself after we shut up here. "

"I wish, " said Lawrence, "that you were married, and that you had ahusband who would not interfere in this matter at all, but who would goabout with you, and so enable you to follow up your clew thoroughly. Youtake up the business in the right spirit, and I believe you wouldsucceed in finding Mr Keswick, but I don't like the idea of sending youabout by yourself. "

"I won't deny, " said the cashier, "that since I have begun this affair Iwould like very much to carry it out; so, if you don't object, I won'tgive it up just yet, and as soon as anything happens I'll let you know. "

CHAPTER III. 

Autumn in Virginia, especially if one is not too near the mountains, isa season in which greenness sails very close to Christmas, althoughgenerally veering away in time to prevent its verdant hues from tingeingthat happy day with the gloomy influence of the prophetic proverb aboutchurchyards. Long after the time when the people of the regions wateredby the Hudson and the Merrimac are beginning to button up theirovercoats, and to think of weather strips for their window-sashes, thedwellers in the land through which flow the Appomattox and the James maysit upon their broad piazzas, and watch the growing glories of theforests, where the crimson stars of the sweet gum blaze among the richyellows of the chestnuts, the lingering green of the oaks, and theenduring verdure of the pines. The insects still hum in the sunny air, and the sun is now a genial orb whose warm rays cheer but not excoriate. 

The orb just mentioned was approaching the horizon, when, in anadjoining county to that in which was situated the hospitable mansion ofMidbranch, a little negro boy about ten years old was driving some cowsthrough a gateway that opened on a public road. The cows, as they weregoing homeward, filed willingly through the gateway, which led into afield, at the far end of which might be dimly discerned a house behind amass of foliage; but the boy, whose head and voice were entirely too bigfor the rest of him, assailed them with all manner of reproaches andimpellent adjectives, addressing each cow in turn as: "You, sah!" Whenthe compliant beasts had hustled through, the youngster got upon thegate, and giving it a push with one bare foot, he swung upon it as faras it would go; then lifting the end from the surface of the ground heshut it with a bang, fastened it with a hook, and ran after the cows, his wild provocatives to bovine haste ringing high into the evening air. 

This youth was known as Plez, his whole name being Pleasant Valley, aninspiration to his mother from the label on a grape box, which haddrifted into that region from the North. He had just stooped to pick upa clod of earth with which to accentuate his vociferations, when, onrising, he was astounded by the apparition of an elderly woman wearing apurple sun-bonnet, and carrying a furled umbrella of the same color. Behind the spectacles, which were fixed upon him, blazed a pair of fieryeyes, and the soul of Plez shrivelled and curled up within him. Hisdowncast eyes were bent upon his upturned toes, the clod dropped fromhis limp fingers, and his mouth which had been opened for a yell, remained open, but the yell had apparently swooned. 

The words of the old lady were brief, but her umbrella was full of jerkymenace, and when she left him, and passed on toward the outer gate, Plez followed the cows to the house with the meekness of a suspectedsheep dog. 

The cows had been milked, some by a rotund black woman named Letty, andsome, much to their discomfort, by Plez himself, and it was beginning togrow dark, when an open spring wagon driven by a colored man, and with awhite man on the back seat came along the road, and stopped at the gate. The driver having passed the reins to the occupant on the back seat, gotdown, opened the gate, and stood holding it while the other drove thehorse into the road which ran by the side of the field to the housebehind the trees. At this time a passer-by, if there had been one, mighthave observed, partly protruding from behind some bushes on the otherside of the public road, and at a little distance from the gate, thelower portion of a purple umbrella. As the spring wagon approached, andduring the time that it was turning into the gate, and while it waswaiting for the driver to resume his seat, this umbrella wasconsiderably agitated, so much so indeed as to cause a little rustlingamong the leaves. When the gate had been shut, and the wagon had passedon toward the house, the end of the umbrella disappeared, and then, onthe other side of the bush, there came into view a sun-bonnet of thesame color as the umbrella. This surmounted the form of an old lady, whostepped into the pathway by the side of the road, and walked away with aquick, active step which betokened both energy and purpose. 

The house, before which, not many minutes later, this spring wagonstopped, was not a fine old family mansion like that of Midbranch, butit was a comfortable dwelling, though an unpretending one. The gentlemanon the back seat, and the driver, who was an elderly negro, both turnedtoward the hall door, which was open and lighted by a lamp within, as ifthey expected some one to come out on the porch. But nobody came, and, after a moment's hesitation, the gentleman got down, and taking a valisefrom the back of the wagon, mounted the steps of the porch. While he wasdoing this the face of the negro man, which could be plainly seen in thelight from the hall door, grew anxious and troubled. When the gentlemanset his valise on the porch, and stood by it without making any attemptto enter, the old man put down the reins and quickly descending from hisseat, hurried up the steps. 

"Dunno whar ole miss is, but I reckon she done gone to look after detukkies. She dreffle keerful dat dey all go to roos' ebery night. Walkright in, Mahs' Junius. " And, taking up the valise, he followed thegentleman into the hall. 

There, near the back door, stood the rotund black woman, and, behindher, Plez. "Look h'yar Letty, " said the negro man, "whar ole miss?"

"Dunno, " said the woman. "She done gib out supper, an' I ain't seed hersence. Is dis Mahs' Junius? Reckon' you don' 'member Letty?"

"Yes I do, " said the gentleman, shaking hands with her; "but the LettyI remember was a rather slim young woman. "

"Dat's so, " said Letty, with a respectful laugh, 'but, shuh 'nuf, myfood's been blessed to me, Mahs' Junius. "

"But whar's ole miss?" persisted the old man. "You, Letty, can't you golook her up?"

Now was heard the voice of Plez, who meekly emerged from the shade ofLetty. "Ole miss done gone out to de road gate, " said he. "I seen herwhen I brung de cows. "

"Bress my soul!" ejaculated Letty. "Out to de road gate! An' 'spectin'you too, Mahs' Junius!"

"Didn't she say nuffin to you?" said the old man, addressing Plez. 

"She didn't say nuffin to me, Uncle Isham, " answered the boy, "'cept ifI didn't quit skeerin' dem cows, an' makin' 'em run wid froin' rockstill dey ain't got a drip drap o' milk lef' in 'em, she'd whang me oberde head wid her umbril. "

"'Tain't easy to tell whar she done gone from dat, " said Letty. 

The face of Uncle Isham grew more troubled. "Walk in de parlor, Mahs'Junius, " he said, "an' make yourse'f comf'ble. Ole miss boun' to be backd'reckly. I'll go put up de hoss. "

As the old man went heavily down the porch steps he muttered to himself:"I was feared o' sumfin like dis; I done feel it in my bones. "

The gentleman took a seat in the parlor where Letty had preceded himwith a lamp. "Reckon ole miss didn't spec' you quite so soon, Mahs'Junius, cos de sorrel hoss is pow'ful slow, and Uncle Isham is mightykeerful ob rocks in de road. Reckon she's done gone ober to see ole Aun'Patsy, who's gwine to die in two or free days, to take her some red an'yaller pieces for a crazy quilt. I know she's got some pieces fur her. "

"Aunt Patsy alive yet?" exclaimed Master Junius. "But if she's about todie, what does she want with a crazy quilt?"

"Dat's fur she shroud, " said Letty. "She 'tends to go to glory all wrapup in a crazy quilt, jus chockfull ob all de colors of the rainbow. Aun'Patsy neber did 'tend to have a shroud o' bleached domestic like commonfolks. She wants to cut a shine 'mong de angels, an' her quilt's mostdone, jus' one corner ob it lef'. Reckon ole miss done gone to carry herde pieces fur dat corner. Dere ain't much time lef', fur Aun' Patsy ispretty nigh dead now. She's ober two hunnerd years ole. "

"What!" exclaimed Master Junius, "two hundred?"

"Yes, sah, " answered Letty. "Doctor Peter's old Jim was more'n a hunnerdwhen he died, an' we all knows Aun' Patsy is twice as ole as ole Jim. "

"I'll wait here, " said Master Junius, taking up a book. "I suppose shewill be back before long. "

In about half an hour Uncle Isham came into the kitchen, his appearanceindicating that he had had a hurried walk, and told Letty that she hadbetter give Master Junius his supper without waiting any longer for hermistress. "She ain't at Aun' Patsy's, " said the old man, "and she's jus'done gone somewhar else, and she'll come back when she's a mind to, an'dar ain't nuffin else to say 'bout it. "

Supper was eaten; a pipe was smoked on the porch; and Master Junius wentto bed in a room which had been carefully prepared for him under thesupervision of the mistress; but the purple sun-bonnet, and the umbrellaof the same color did not return to the house that night. 

Master Junius was a quiet man, and fond of walking; and the next day hedevoted to long rambles, sometimes on the roads, sometimes over thefields, and sometimes through the woods; but in none of his walks, norwhen he came back to dinner and supper, did he meet the elderly mistressof the house to which he had come. That evening, as he sat on the topstep of the porch with his pipe, he summoned to him Uncle Isham, andthus addressed the old man:

"I think it is impossible, Isham, that your mistress started out to meetme, and that an accident happened to her. I have walked all over thisneighborhood, and I know that no accident could have occurred without myseeing or hearing something of it. "

Uncle Isham stood on the ground, his feet close to the bottom step; hishat was in his hand, and his upturned face wore an expression ofearnestness which seemed to set uncomfortably upon it. "Mahs' Junius, "said he, "dar ain't no acciden' come to ole miss; she's done gone cos shewanted to, an' she ain't come back cos she didn't want to. Dat's olemiss, right fru. "

"I suppose, " said the young man, "that as she went away on foot she mustbe staying with some of the neighbors. If we were to make inquiries, itcertainly would not be difficult to find out where she is. "

"Mahs' Junius, " said Uncle Isham, his black eyes shining brighter andbrighter as he spoke, "dar's culled people, an' white folks too in disyer county who'd put on dere bes' clothes an' black dere shoes, an' skipoff wid alacrousness, to do de wus kin' o sin, dat dey knowed for sartinwould send 'em down to de deepes' and hottes' gullies ob de lowerregions, but nuffin in dis worl' could make one o' dem people go'quirin' 'bout ole miss when she didn't want to be 'quired about. "

The smoker put down his pipe on the top step beside him, and sat for afew moments in thought. Then he spoke. "Isham, " he began, "I want you totell me if you have any notion or idea----"

"Mahs' Junius, " exclaimed the old negro, "scuse me fur int'ruptin', butI can't help it. Don' you go, an ax an ole man like me if I tinks datole miss went away cos you was comin' an' if it's my true b'lief datshe'll neber come back while you is h'yar. Don' ask me nuffin like dat, Mahs' Junius. Ise libed in dis place all my bawn days, an' I ain't neberdone nuffin to you, Mahs' Junius, 'cept keepin' you from breakin' youneck when you was too little to know better. I neber 'jected to youmarryin' any lady you like bes', an' 'tain't f'ar Mahs' Junius, now Iseole an' gittin' on de careen, fur you to ax me wot I tinks about olemiss gwine away an' comin' back. I begs you, Mahs' Junius, don' ax medat. "

Master Junius rose to his feet. "All right, Isham, " he said; "I shallnot worry your good old heart with questions. " And he went into thehouse. 

The next day this quiet gentleman and good walker went to see old AuntPatsy, who had apparently consented to live a day or two longer; gaveher a little money in lieu of pieces for her crazy bed-quilt; and toldher he was going away to stay. He told Uncle Isham he was going away tostay away; and he said the same thing to Letty, and to Plez, and to twocolored women of the neighborhood whom he happened to see. Then he tookhis valise, which was not a very large one, and departed. He refused tobe conveyed to the distant station in the spring wagon, saying that hemuch preferred to walk. Uncle Isham took leave of him with much sadness, but did not ask him to stay; and Letty and Plez looked after himwistfully, still holding in their hands the coins he had placed there. With the exception of these coins, the only thing he left behind him wasa sealed letter on the parlor table, directed to the mistress of thehouse. 

Toward the end of that afternoon, two women came along the public roadwhich passed the outer gate. One came from the south, and rode in anopen carriage, evidently hired at the railroad station; the other wason foot, and came from the north; she wore a purple sun-bonnet, andcarried an umbrella of the same color. When this latter individualcaught sight of the approaching carriage, then at some distance, shestopped short and gazed at it. She did not retire behind a bush, as shehad done on a former occasion, but she stood in the shade of a tree onthe side of the road, and waited. As the carriage came nearer to thegate the surprise upon her face became rapidly mingled with indignation. The driver had checked the speed of his horses, and, without doubt, intended to stop at the gate. This might not have been sufficient toexcite her emotions, but she now saw clearly, having not been quitecertain of it before, that the occupant of the carriage was a lady, and, apparently, a young one, for she wore in her hat some bright-coloredflowers. The driver stopped, got down, opened the gate, and then, mounting to his seat, drove through, leaving the gate standing wideopen. 

This contempt of ordinary proprietary requirements made the old ladyspring out from the shelter of the shade. Brandishing her umbrella, shewas about to cry out to the man to stop and shut the gate, but sherestrained herself. The distance was too great, and, besides, shethought better of it. She went again into the shade, and waited. Inabout ten minutes the carriage came back, but without the lady. Thistime the driver got down, shut the gate after him, and drove rapidlyaway. 

If blazing eyes could crack glass, the spectacles of the old lady wouldhave been splintered into many pieces as she stood by the roadside, theend of her umbrella jabbed an inch or two into the ground. Afterstanding thus for some five minutes, she suddenly turned and walkedvigorously away in the direction from which she had come. 

Uncle Isham, Letty, and the boy Plez, were very much surprised at thearrival of the lady in the carriage. She had asked for the mistress ofthe house, and on being assured that she was expected to return verysoon, had alighted, paid and dismissed her driver, and had taken a seatin the parlor. Her valise, rather larger than that of the previousvisitor, was brought in and put in the hall. She waited for an hour ortwo, during which time Letty made several attempts to account for thenon-appearance of her mistress, who, she said, was away on a visit, butwas expected back every minute; and when supper was ready she partook ofthat meal alone, and after a short evening spent in reading she went tobed in the chamber which Letty prepared for her. 

Before she retired, Letty, who had shown herself a very capableattendant, said to her: "Wot's your name, miss? I allus likes to knowthe names o' ladies I waits on. ''

"My name, " said the lady, "is Mrs Null. "

CHAPTER IV. 

The Autumn sun was shining very pleasantly when, about nine o'clock inthe morning, Mrs Null came out on the porch, and, standing at the top ofthe steps, looked about her. She had on her hat with the red flowers, and she wore a short jacket, into the pockets of which her hands werethrust with an air which indicated satisfaction with the circumstancessurrounding her. The old dog, lying on the grass at the bottom of thesteps, looked up at her and flopped his tail upon the ground. Mrs Nullcalled to him in a cheerful tone and the dog arose, and, hesitatingly, put his forefeet on the bottom step; then, when she held out her handand spoke to him again, he determined that, come what might, he would goup those forbidden steps, and let her pat his head. This he did, andafter looking about him to assure himself that this was reality and nota dog dream, he lay down upon the door-mat, and, with a sigh of relief, composed himself to sleep. A black turkey gobbler, who looked as if hehad been charred in a fire, followed by five turkey hens, alsosuggesting the idea that water had been thrown over them before anythingbut their surfaces had been burned, came timidly around the house andstopped before venturing upon the greensward in front of the porch;then, seeing nobody but Mrs Null, they advanced with bobbing heads andswaying bodies to look into the resources of this seldom exploredregion. Plez, who was coming from the spring with a pail of water on hishead, saw the dog on the porch and the turkeys on the grass, and stoppedto regard the spectacle. He looked at them, and he looked at Mrs Null, and a grin of amused interest spread itself over his face. 

Mrs Null went down the steps and approached the boy. "Plez, " said she, "if your mistress, or anybody, should come here this morning, you mustrun over to Pine Top Hill and call me. I'm going there to read. "

"Don' you want me to go wid yer, and show you de way, Miss Null?" askedPlez, preparing to set down his pail. 

"Oh, no, " said she, "I know the way. " And with her hands still in herpockets, from one of which protruded a rolled-up novel, she walked downto the little stream which ran from the spring, crossed the plank andtook the path which led by the side of the vineyard to Pine Top Hill. 

This lady visitor had now been here two days waiting for the return ofthe mistress of the little estate; and the sojourn had evidently been ofbenefit to her. Good air, the good meals with which Letty had providedher, and a sort of sympathy which had sprung up in a very sudden waybetween her and everything on the place, had given brightness to hereyes. She even looked a little plumper than when she came, andcertainly very pretty. She climbed Pine Top Hill without making anymistake as to the best path, and went directly to a low piece ofsun-warmed rock which cropped out from the ground not far from the basesof the cluster of pines which gave the name to the hill. An extended andvery pretty view could be had from this spot, and Mrs Null seemed toenjoy it, looking about her with quick turns of the head as if shewanted to satisfy herself that all of the scenery was there. Apparentlysatisfied that it was, she stretched out her feet, withdrew her gazefrom the surrounding country, and regarded the toes of her boots. Nowshe smiled a little and began to speak. 

"Freddy, " said she, "I must think over matters, and have a talk with youabout them. Nothing could be more proper than this, since we are on ourwedding tour. You keep beautifully in the background, which is very niceof you, for that's what I married you for. But we must have a talk now, for we haven't said a word to each other, nor, perhaps, thought of eachother during the whole three nights and two days that we have been here. I expect these people think it very queer that I should keep on waitingfor their mistress to come back, but I can't help it; I must stay tillshe comes, or he comes, and they must continue to think it funny. And asfor Mr Croft, I suppose I should get a letter from him if he knew whereto write, but you know, Freddy, we are travelling about on this weddingtour without letting anybody, especially Mr Croft, know exactly wherewe are. He must think it an awfully wonderful piece of good luck that ayoung married couple should happen to be journeying in the verydirection taken by a gentleman whom he wants to find, and that they arewilling to look for the gentleman without charging anything but theextra expenses to which they may be put. We wouldn't charge him a cent, you know, Freddy Null, but for the fear that he would think we would nottruly act as his agents if we were not paid, and so would employsomebody else. We don't want him to employ anybody else. We want to findJunius Keswick before he does, and then, maybe, we won't want Mr Croftto find him at all. But I hope it will not turn out that way. He said, it was neither crime nor relationship and, of course, it couldn't be. What I hope is, that it is good fortune; but that's doubtful. At anyrate, I must see Junius first, if I can possibly manage it. If she wouldonly come back and open her letter, there might be no more trouble aboutit, for I don't believe he would go away without leaving her hisaddress. Isn't all this charming, Freddy? And don't you feel glad thatwe came here for our wedding tour? Of course you don't enjoy it as muchas I do, for it can't seem so natural to you; but you are bound to likeit. The very fact of my being here should make the place delightful inyour eyes, Mr Null, even if I have forgotten all about you ever since Icame. "

That afternoon, as Mrs Null was occupying some of her continuous leisurein feeding the turkeys at the back of the house, she noticed twocolored men in earnest conversation with Isham. When they had gone shecalled to the old man. "Uncle Isham, " she said, "what did those menwant?"

"Tell you what 'tis, Miss Null, " said Isham, removing his shapeless felthat, "dis yere place is gittin' wus an' wus on de careen, an' wat'sgwine to happen if ole miss don' come back is more'n I kin tell. Dar'sno groun' ploughed yit for wheat, an' dem two han's been 'gaged to comedo it, an' dey put it off, an' put it off till ole miss got as mad ashot coals, an' now at las' dey've come, an' she's not h'yar, an' nuffin'can be done. De wheat'll be free inches high on ebery oder farm 'foreole miss git dem plough han's agin. "

"That is too bad, Uncle Isham, " said Mrs Null. "When land that ought tobe ploughed isn't ploughed, it all grows up in old field pines, don'tit?"

"It don' do dat straight off, Miss Null, " said the old negro, his grayface relaxing into a smile. 

"No, I suppose not, " said she. "I have heard that it takes thirty yearsfor a whole forest of old field pines to grow up. But they will do it ifthe land isn't ploughed. Now, Uncle Isham, I don't intend to leteverything be at a standstill here just because your mistress is away. That is one reason why I feed the turkeys. If they died, or the farm allwent wrong, I should feel that it was partly my fault. "

"Yaas'm, " said Uncle Isham, passing his hat from one hand to the other, as he delivered himself a little hesitatingly--"yaas'm, if you wasn'th'yar p'raps ole miss mought come back. "

"Now, Uncle Isham, " said Mrs Null, "you mustn't think your mistress isstaying away on account of me. She left home, as Letty has told me overand over, because your Master Junius came. Of course she thinks he'shere yet, and she don't know anything about me. But if her affairsshould go to rack and ruin while I am here and able to prevent it, Ishould think it was my fault. That's what I mean, Uncle Isham. And nowthis is what I want you to do. I want you to go right after those men, and tell them to come here as soon as they can, and begin to plough. Doyou know where the ploughing is to be done?"

"Oh, yaas'm, " said Uncle Isham, "dar ain't on'y one place fur dat. It'sde clober fiel', ober dar, on de udder side ob de gyarden. "

"And what is to be planted in it?" asked Mrs Null. 

"Ob course dey's gwine to plough for wheat, " answered Uncle Isham, alittle surprised at the question. 

"I don't altogether like that, " said Mrs Null, her brows slightlycontracting. "I've read a great deal about the foolishness of Southernpeople planting wheat. They can't compete with the great wheat farms ofthe West, which sometimes cover a whole county, and, of course, havingso much, they can afford to sell it a great deal cheaper than you canhere. And yet you go on, year after year, paying every cent you canrake and scrape for fertilizing drugs, and getting about a teacupful ofwheat, --that is, proportionately speaking. I don't think this sort ofthing should continue, Uncle Isham. It would be a great deal better toplough that field for pickles. Now there is a steady market for pickles, and, so far as I know, there are no pickle farms in the West. "

"Pickles!" ejaculated the astonished Isham. "Do you mean, Miss Null, toput dat fiel' down in kukumbers at dis time o' yeah?"

"Well, " said Mrs Null, thoughtfully, "I don't know that I feelauthorized to make the change at present, but I do know that the thingsthat pay most are small fruits, and if you people down here would paymore attention to them you would make more money. But the land must beploughed, and then we'll see about planting it afterward; your mistresswill, probably, be home in time for that. You go after the men, and tellthem I shall expect them to begin the first thing in the morning. And ifthere is anything else to be done on the farm, you come and tell meabout it to-morrow. I'm going to take the responsibility on myself tosee that matters go on properly until your mistress returns. "

Letty and her son, Plez, occupied a cabin not far from the house, whileUncle Isham lived alone in a much smaller tenement, near the barn andchicken house. That evening he went over to Letty's, taking with him, asa burnt offering, a partially consumed and still glowing log of hickorywood from his own hearth-stone. "Jes' lemme tell you dis h'yar, Letty, "said he, after making up the fire and seating himself on a stool nearby, "ef you want to see ole miss come back rarin' an' chargin', jes' youlet her know dat Miss Null is gwine ter plough de clober fiel' forpickles. "

"Wot's dat fool talk?" asked Letty. 

"Miss Null's gwine to boss dis farm, dat's all, " said Isham. "She toleme so herse'f, an' ef she's lef' alone she's gwine ter do it cityfashion. But one thing's sartin shuh, Letty, if ole miss do fin' outwot's gwine on, she'll be back h'yar in no time! She know well 'nuf datdat Miss Null ain't got no right to come an' boss dis h'yar farm. Who'sshe, anyway?"

"Dunno, " answered Letty. "I done ax her six or seben time, but 'pearslike I dunno wot she mean when she tell me. P'raps she's one o' olemiss' little gal babies growed up. I tell you, Uncle Isham, she know displace jes as ef she bawn h'yar. "

Uncle Isham looked steadily into the fire and rubbed the sides of hishead with his big black fingers. "Ole miss nebber had no gal baby 'ceptone, an' dat died when 'twas mighty little. "

"Does you reckon she kill her ef she come back an' fin' her no kin?"asked Letty. 

Uncle Isham pushed his stool back and started to his feet with a noisewhich woke Plez, who had been soundly sleeping on the other side of thefireplace; and striding to the door, the old man went out into the openair. Returning in less than a minute, he put his head into the doorwayand addressed the astonished woman who had turned around to look afterhim. "Look h'yar, you Letty, I don' want to hear no sech fool talk 'boutole miss. You dunno ole miss, nohow. You only come h'yar seben year agowhen dat Plez was trottin' roun' wid nuffin but a little meal bag forclothes. Mahs' John had been dead a long time den; you nebber knowedMahs' John. You nebber was woke up at two o'clock in the mawnin wid decrack ob a pistol, an' run out 'spectin' 'twas somebody stealin' chickensan' Mahs' John firin' at 'em, an' see ole miss a cuttin' for de roadgate wid her white night-gown a floppin' in de win' behind her, an' whenwe got out to de gate dar we see Mahs' John a stannin' up agin de pos', not de pos' wid de hinges on, but de pos' wid de hook on, an' a hole inde top ob de head which he made hese'f wid de pistol. One-eyed Jim seede whole thing. He war stealin' cohn in de fiel' on de udder side deroad. He see Mahs' John come out wid de pistol, an' he lay low. Not datit war Mahs' John's cohn dat he was stealin', but he knowed well 'nufdat Mahs' John take jes' as much car' o' he neighbus cohn as he own. An'den he see Mahs' John stan' up agin de pos' an' shoot de pistol, an' hesee Mahs' John's soul come right out de hole in de top ob his head an'go straight up to heben like a sky-racket. "

"Wid a whizz?" asked the open-eyed Letty. "

"Like a sky-racket, I tell you, " continued the old man, "an' den me an'ole miss come up. She jes' tuk one look at him and then she said in awice, not like she own wice, but like Mahs' John's wice, wot had donegone forebber: 'You Jim, come out o' dat cohn and help carry him in!'And we free carried him in. An' you dunno ole miss, nohow, an' I don'want to hear no fool talk from you, Letty, 'bout her. Jes' you 'memberdat!"

And with this Uncle Isham betook himself to the solitude of his owncabin. 

"Well, " said Letty to herself, as she rose and approached the bed in thecorner of the room, "Ise pow'ful glad dat somebody's gwine to take dekey bahsket, for I nebber goes inter dat sto'-room by myse'f widouttremblin' all froo my back bone fear ole miss come back, an' fin' me dar'lone. "

CHAPTER V. 

When Lawrence Croft now took his afternoon walks in the city, he wasvery glad to wear a light overcoat, and to button it, too. But, althoughthe air was getting a little nipping in New York, he knew that it muststill be balmy and enjoyable in Virginia. He had never been down thereat this season, but he had heard about the Virginia autumns, and, besides he had seen a lady who had had a letter from Roberta March. Inthis letter Miss March had written that as her father intended making atrip to Texas, and, therefore, would not come to New York as early asusual, she would stay at least a month longer with her Uncle Brandon;and she was glad to do it, for the weather was perfectly lovely, and shecould stay out-of-doors all day if she wanted to. 

Lawrence's walks, although very invigorating on account of the fine, sharp air, were not entirely cheering, for they gave him an opportunityto think that he was making no progress whatever in his attempt to studythe character of Junius Keswick. He had entrusted the search for thatgentleman's address to Mr Candy's cashier, who had informed him, mostopportunely, that she was about to set out on a wedding tour, and thatshe had possessed herself of clues of much value which could be readilyfollowed up in connection with the projected journey. But a fortnight ormore had elapsed without his hearing anything from her, and he had cometo the conclusion that hymeneal joys must have driven all thoughts ofbusiness out of her little head. 

After hearing that Roberta March intended protracting her stay in thecountry the desire came to him to go down there himself. He would liketo have the novel experience of that region in autumn, and he would liketo see Roberta, but he could not help acknowledging to himself that theproceeding would scarcely be a wise one, especially as he must gowithout the desired safeguard of knowing what kind of man Miss March hadonce been willing to accept. He felt that if he went down to theneighborhood of Midbranch one of the battles of his life would begin, and that when he held up before him his figurative shield, he would seein its inner mirror that, on account of his own disposition toward thelady, he was in a condition of great peril. But, for all that, he wantedvery much to go, and no one will be surprised to learn that he did go. 

He was a little embarrassed at first in regard to the pretext which heshould make to himself for such a journey. Whatever satisfactory excusehe could make to himself in this case would, of course, do for otherpeople. Although he was not prone to make excuses for his conduct toother people in general, he knew he would have to give some reason to MrBrandon and Miss Roberta for his return to Virginia so soon after havingleft it. He determined to make a visit to the mountains of NorthCarolina, and as Midbranch would lie in his way, of course hewould stop there. This he assured himself was not a subterfuge. It was a very sensible thing to do. He had a good deal of timeon his hands before the city season, at least for him, would begin, and he had read that the autumn was an admirable time to visit thecountry of the French Broad. How long a stop he would make at Midbranchwould be determined by circumstances. He was sorry that he would not beable to look upon Miss Roberta with the advantage of knowing her formerlover, but it was something to know that she had had a lover. With thisfact in his mind he would be able to form a better estimate of her thanhe had formed before. 

The man who lived in the cottage at the Green Sulphur Springs wassomewhat surprised when Mr Croft arrived there, and desired to makearrangements, as before, for board, and the use of a saddle horse. But, although it was not generally conceded, this man knew very well thatthere was no water in the world so suitable to remedy the wear and tearof a city life as that of the Green Sulphur Springs, and thereforenobody could consider the young gentleman foolish for coming back againwhile the season permitted. 

Lawrence arrived at his cottage in the morning; and early in theafternoon of the same day he rode over to Midbranch. He found thecountry a good deal changed, and he did not like the changes. His road, which ran for much of its distance through the woods, was covered withleaves, some green, and some red and yellow, and he did not fancy thepeculiar smell of these leaves, which reminded him, in some way, of thatgathering together of the characters in old-fashioned comedies shortlybefore the fall of the curtain. In many places where there used to be athick shade, the foliage was now quite thin, and through it he could seea good deal of the sky. The Virginia creepers, or "poison oaks, "whichever they were, were growing red upon the trunks of the trees as ifthey had been at table too long and showed it, and when he rode out ofthe woods he saw that the fields, which he remembered as wide, swellingslopes of green, with cattle and colts feeding here and there, were nowbeing ploughed into corrugated stretches of monotonous drab and brown. If he had been there through all the gradual changes of the season, he, probably, would have enjoyed them as much as people ordinarily do; butcoming back in this way, the altered landscape slightly shocked him. 

When he had turned into the Midbranch gate, but was still a considerabledistance from the house, he involuntarily stopped his horse. He couldsee the broad steps which crossed the fence of the lawn, and on one sideof the platform on the top sat a lady whom he instantly recognized asMiss Roberta; and on the other side of the platform sat a gentleman. These two occupied very much the same positions as Lawrence, himself, and Miss March had occupied when we first became acquainted with them. Lawrence looked very sharply and earnestly at the gentleman. Could it beMr Brandon? No, it was a much younger person. 

His first impulse was to turn and ride away, but this would be silly andunmanly, and he continued his way to the stile. His disposition to treatthe matter with contempt made him feel how important the matter was tohim. The gentleman on the platform first saw Lawrence, and announced tothe lady that some one was coming. Miss March turned around, and thenrose to her feet. 

"Upon my word!" she exclaimed, elevating her eyebrows a good deal morethan was usual with her, "if that isn't Mr Croft!"

"Who is he?" asked the other, also rising. 

"He is a New York gentleman whom I know very well. He was down here lastsummer, but I can't imagine what brings him here again. "

Lawrence dismounted, tied his horse, and approached the steps. MissRoberta welcomed him cordially, coming down a little way to shake handswith him. Then she introduced the two gentlemen. 

"Mr Croft, " she said, "let me make you acquainted with Mr Keswick. "

The afternoon, or the portion of it that was left, was spent on theporch, Mr Brandon joining the party. It was to him that Lawrence chieflytalked, for the most part about the game and scenery of North Carolina, with which the old gentleman was quite familiar. But Lawrence hadsufficient regard for himself and his position in the eyes of thisfamily, to help make a good deal of general conversation. What he saidor heard, however, occupied only the extreme corners of his mind, themain portion of which was entirely filled with the chilling fear thatthat man might be the Keswick he was looking for. Of course, there was abare chance that it was not, for there might be a numerous family, buteven this little stupid glimmer of comfort was extinguished when MrBrandon familiarly addressed the gentleman as "Junius. "

Lawrence took a good look at the man he was anxious to study, and as faras outward appearances were concerned he could find no fault withRoberta for having accepted him. He was taller than Croft, and not socorrectly dressed. He seemed to be a person whom one would select as acompanion for a hunt, a sail, or a talk upon Political Economy. Therewas about him an air of present laziness, but it was also evident thatthis was a disposition that could easily be thrown off. 

Lawrence's mind was not only very much occupied, but very muchperturbed. It must have been all a mistake about the engagement havingbeen broken off. If this had been the case, the easy friendliness of therelations between Keswick and the old gentleman and his niece would havebeen impossible. Once or twice the thought came to Lawrence that heshould congratulate himself for not having avowed his feelings towardMiss Roberta when he had an opportunity of doing so; but hispredominant emotion was one of disgust with his previous mode of action. If he had not weighed and considered the matter so carefully, and hadbeen willing to take his chances as other men take them, he would, atleast, have known in what relation he stood to Roberta, and would nothave occupied the ridiculous position in which he now felt himself tobe. 

When he took his leave, Roberta went with him to the stile. As theywalked together across the smooth, short grass, a new set of emotionsarose in Lawrence's mind which drove out every other. They were grief, chagrin, and even rage, at not having won this woman. As to actualspeech, there was nothing he could say, although his soul boiled andbubbled within him in his desire to speak. But if he had anything tosay, now was his chance, for he had told them that he would proceed withhis journey the next day. 

Miss Roberta had a way of looking up, and looking down at the same time, particularly when she had asked a question and was waiting for theanswer. Her face would be turned a little down, but her eyes would lookup and give a very charming expression to those upturned eyes; and ifshe happened to allow the smile, with which she ceased speaking, toremain upon her pretty lips, she generally had an answer of some sortvery soon. If for no other reason, it would be given that she might askanother question. It was in this manner she said to Lawrence: "Do youreally go away from us to-morrow?"

"Yes, " said he, "I shall push on. "

"Do you not find the country very beautiful at this season?" asked MissRoberta, after a few steps in silence. 

"I don't like autumn, " answered Lawrence. "Everything is drying up anddying. I would rather see things dead. "

Roberta looked at him without turning her head. "But it will be just asbad in North Carolina, " she said. 

"There is an autumn in ourselves, " he answered, "just as much as thereis in Nature. I won't see so much of that down there. "

"In some cases, " said Roberta, slowly, "autumn is impossible. "

They had reached the bottom of the steps, and Lawrence turned and lookedtoward her. "Do you mean, " he asked, "when there has been no realsummer?"

Roberta laughed. "Of course, " said she, "if there has been no summerthere can be no autumn. But you know there are places where it is summerall the time. Would you like to live in such a clime?"

Lawrence Croft put one foot on the step, and then he drew it back. "MissMarch, " said he, "my train does not leave until the afternoon, and I amcoming over here in the morning to have one more walk in the woods withyou. May I?"

"Certainly, " she said, "I shall be delighted; that is, if you canoverlook the fact that it is autumn. "

When Miss Roberta returned to the house she found Junius Keswicksitting on a bench on the porch. She went over to him, and took a seatat the other end of the bench. 

"So your gentleman is gone, " he said. 

"Yes, " she answered, "but only for the present. He is coming back in themorning. "

"What for?" asked Keswick, a little abruptly. 

Miss Roberta took off her hat, for there was no need of a hat on ashaded porch, and holding it by the ribbons, she let it gently slidedown toward her feet. "He is coming, " she said, speaking rather slowly, "to take a walk with me, and I know very well that when we have reachedsome place where he is sure there is no one to hear him, he is going totell me that he loves me; that he did not intend to speak quite so soon, but that circumstances have made it impossible for him to restrainhimself any longer, and he will ask me to be his wife. "

"And what are you going to say to him?" asked Keswick. 

"I don't know, " replied Roberta, her eyes fixed upon the hat which shestill held by its long ribbons. 

The next morning Junius Keswick, who had been up a long, long timebefore breakfast, sat, after that meal, looking at Roberta who wasreading a book in the parlor. "She is a strange girl, " thought he. "Icannot understand her. How is it possible that she can sit there soplacidly reading that volume of Huxley, which I know she never sawbefore and which she has opened just about the middle, on a morningwhen she is expecting a man who will say things to her which may changeher whole life. I could almost imagine that she has forgotten all aboutit. "

Peggy, who had just entered the room to inform her mistress that AuntJudy was ready for her, stood in rigid uprightness, her torpid eyessettled upon the lady. "I reckon, " so ran the thought within the mazesof her dark little interior, "dat Miss Rob's wuss disgruntled dan shewas dat ebenin' when I make my cake, fur she got two dif'ent kinds o'shoes on. "

The morning went on, and Keswick found that he must go out again for awalk, although he had rambled several miles before breakfast. After herhousehold duties had been completed, Miss Roberta took her book out tothe porch; and about noon when her uncle came out and made some remarksupon the beauty of the day, she turned over the page at which she hadopened the volume just after breakfast. An hour later Peggy brought hersome luncheon, and felt it to be her duty to inform Miss Rob that shestill wore one old boot and a new one. When Roberta returned to theporch after making a suitable change, she found Keswick there looking alittle tired. 

"Has your friend gone?" he asked, in a very quiet tone. 

"He has not come yet, " she answered. 

"Not come!" exclaimed Keswick. "That's odd! However, there are two hoursyet before dinner. "

The two hours passed and no Lawrence Croft appeared; nor came he at allthat day. About dusk the man at the Green Sulphur Springs rode over witha note from Mr Croft. The note was to Miss March, of course, and itsimply stated that the writer was very sorry he could not keep theappointment he had made with her, but that it had suddenly becomenecessary for him to return to the North without continuing the journeyhe had planned; that he was much grieved to be deprived of theopportunity of seeing her again; but that he would give himself thepleasure, at the earliest possible moment, of calling on Miss March whenshe arrived in New York. 

When Miss Roberta had read this note she handed it to Keswick, who, whenhe returned it, asked: "Does that suit you?"

"No, " said she, "it does not suit me at all. "

CHAPTER VI. 

It was mail day at the very small village known as Howlett's, and to thefence in front of the post-office were attached three mules and a horse. Inside the yard, tied to the low bough of a tree, was a very lean andmelancholy horse, on which had lately arrived Wesley Green, the negroman who, twice a week, brought the mail from Pocohontas, a railwaystation, twenty miles away. There was a station not six miles fromHowlett's, but, for some reason, the mail bag was always brought fromand carried to Pocohontas; Wesley Green requiring a whole day for adeliberate transit between the two points. 

In the post-office, which was the front room of a small wooden houseapproached by a high flight of steps, was the postmistress, Miss HarrietCorvey, who sat on the floor in one corner, while before her extended asemicircle of men and boys. In this little assemblage certain elderlymen occupied seats which were considered to belong to them quite as muchas if they had been hired pews in a church, and behind them stood up arow of tall young men and barefooted boys of the neighborhood, while, farthest in the rear, were some quiet little darkies with mail bagsslung across their shoulders. 

On a chair to the right, and most convenient to

Miss Harriet, sat old Madison Chalkley, the biggest and most venerablecitizen of the neighborhood. Mr Chalkley never, by any chance, got aletter, the only mail matter he received being, "The Southern BaptistRecorder, " which came on Saturdays, but, like most of the peoplepresent, he was at the post-office every mail day to see who gotanything. Next to him sat Colonel Iston, a tall, lean, quiet oldgentleman, who had, for a long series of years, occupied the position ofa last apple on a tree. He had no relatives, no friends with whom hecorresponded, no business that was not conducted by word of mouth. Inthe last fifteen years he had received but one letter, and that had sosurprised him that he carried it about with him three days before heopened it, and then he found that it was really intended for a gentlemanof the same name in another county. And yet everybody knew that ifColonel Iston failed to appear in his place on mail day, it would bebecause he was dead or prostrated by sickness. 

With the mail bag on the floor at her left, Miss Harriet, totallyoblivious of any law forbidding the opening of the mails in public, would put her hand into its open mouth, draw forth a letter or a paper, hold it up in front of her spectacles, and call out the name of itsowner. Most of the letters went to the black boys with the mail bags whocame from country houses in the neighborhood, but whoever receivedletter, journal, or agricultural circular, received also at the sametime the earnest gaze of everybody else in the room. Sometimes therewas a letter for which there was no applicant present and then MissHarriet would say: "Is anybody going past Mrs Willis Summerses?" Andif anybody was, he would take the letter, and it is to be hoped heremembered to deliver it in the course of a week. 

In spite of the precautions of the postmistress uncalled for letterswould gradually accumulate, and there was a little bundle of these inone of the few pigeon holes in a small desk in the corner of the room, in the drawer of which the postage stamps were kept. Now and then aregistered letter would arrive, and this always created considerablesensation in the room, and if the legal recipient did not happen to bepresent, Miss Harriet never breathed a quiet breath until he or she hadbeen sent for, had taken the letter, and given her a receipt. Sometimesshe sat up as late as eleven o'clock at night on mail days, hoping thatsome one who had been sent for would arrive to relieve her of aregistered letter. 

All the mail matter had been distributed, everybody but Mr MadisonChalkley had left the room; and when the old gentleman, as was his wonton the first day of the month, had gone up to the desk, untied thebundle of uncalled-for letters, the outer ones permanently rounded bythe tightness of the cord, and after carefully looking over them, one byone, had made his usual remark about the folly of people who wouldn'tstay in a place until their letters could get to them, had tied up thebundle and taken his departure; then Miss Harriet put the empty mailbag under the desk, and went up-stairs where an old lady sat by thewindow, sewing in the fading light. 

"No letters for you to-day, Mrs Keswick, " said she. 

"Of course not, " was the answer, "I didn't expect any. "

"Don't you think, " said Miss Harriet, taking a seat opposite the oldlady, "that it is about time for you to go home and attend to youraffairs?"

"Well, upon my word!" said Mrs Keswick, letting her hands and her workfall in her lap, "that's truly hospitable. I didn't expect it of you, Harriet Corvey. "

"I wouldn't have said it, " returned the postmistress, "if I hadn't feltdead certain that you knew you were always welcome here. But Tony Milestold me, just before the mail came in, that the lady who's at your placeis running it herself, and that she's going to use pickle brine for afertilizer. "

"Very likely, " said Mrs Keswick, her face totally unmoved by thisintelligence--"very likely. That's the way they used to do in ancienttimes, or something of the same kind. They used to sow salt over theirenemy's land so that nothing would ever grow there. That woman's familyhas sowed salt over the lands of me and mine for three generations, andit's quite natural she should come here to finish up. "

There was a little silence after this, and then Miss

Harriet remarked: "Your people must know where you are. Why don't theycome and tell you about these things?"

"They know better, " answered Mrs Keswick, with a grim smile. "I wentaway once before, and Uncle Isham hunted me up, and he got a lesson thathe'll never forget. When I want them to know where I am, I'll tellthem. "

"But really and truly"--said Miss Harriet "and you know I only speak toyou for your own good, for you pay your board here, and if you didn'tyou'd be just as welcome--do you intend to keep away from your own houseas long as that lady chooses to stay there?"

"Exactly so long, " answered the old lady. "I shall not keep them out ofmy house if they choose to come to it. No member of my family ever didthat. There is the house, and they are free to enter it, but they shallnot find me there. If there was any reason to believe that everythingwas dropped and done with, I would be as glad to see him as anybodycould be, but I knew from his letter just what he was going to say whenhe came, and as things have turned out, I see that it was all worse thanI expected. He and Roberta March were both coming, and they thought thattogether they could talk me down, and make me forgive and be happy, andall that stuff. But as I wasn't there, of course he wouldn't stay, andso there she is now by herself. She thinks I must come home after awhile, and the minute I do that, back he'll come, and then they'll havejust what they wanted. But I reckon she'll find that I can stick it outjust as long as she can. If Roberta March turns things upside downthere, it'll be because she can't keep her hands out of mischief, andthat proves that she belongs to her own family. If there's any harmdone, it don't matter so much to me, and it will be worse for him in theend. And now, Harriet Corvey, if you've got to make up the mail to goaway early in the morning, you'd better have supper over and get aboutit. "

Meanwhile, at Mrs Keswick's house Mrs Null was acting just asconscientiously as she knew how. She had had some conversations withFreddy on the subject, and she had assured him, and at the same timeherself, that what she was doing was the only thing that could be done. "It was dreadfully hard for me to get the money to come down here, " shesaid to him, --"you not helping me a bit, as ordinary husbands do--and Ican't afford to go back until I have accomplished something. It's verystrange that she stays away so long, without telling anybody where shehas gone to, but I know she is queer, and I suppose she has her ownreasons for what she does. She can't be staying away on my account, forshe doesn't know who I am, and wouldn't have any objections to me if shedid know. I suspect it is something about Junius which keeps her away, and I suppose she thinks he is still here. But one of them must sooncome back, and if I can see him, or find out from her where he is, itwill be all right. It seems to me, Freddy, that if I could have a goodtalk with Junius things would begin to look better for you and me. Andthen I want to put him on his guard about this gentleman who is lookingfor him. By the way, I suppose I ought to write a letter to Mr Croft, orhe'll think I have given up the job, and will set somebody else on thetrack, and that is what I don't want him to do. I can't say that I havepositively anything to report, but I can say that I have strong hopes ofsuccess, considering where I am. As soon as I found that Junius hadreally left the North, I concluded that this would be the best place tocome to for him. And now, Freddy, there's nothing for us to do but towait, and if we can make ourselves useful here I'm sure we will be gladto do it. We both hate being lazy, and a little housekeeping and farmmanaging will be good practice for us during our honeymoon. "

Putting on her hat, she went down into the garden where uncle Isham wasat work. She could find little to do there, for he was merely pullingturnips, and she could see nothing to suggest in regard to his method ofwork. She had found, too, that the old negro had not much respect forher agricultural opinions. He attended to his work as if his mistresshad been at home, and although, in regard to the ploughing, he hadcarried out the orders of Mrs Null, he had done it because it ought tobe done, and because he was very glad for some one else to take theresponsibility. 

"Uncle Isham, " said she, after she had watched the process of turnippulling for a few minutes, "if you haven't anything else to do when youget through with this, you might come up to the house, and I will talkto you about the flower beds, I suppose they ought to be made ready forthe winter. "

"Miss Null, " said the old man, slowly unbending his back, and gettinghimself upright, "dar's allus sumfin' else to do. Eber sence I was fus'bawn dar was sumfin else to do, an' I spec's it'll keep on dat ar waytill de day I dies. "

"Of course there will be nothing else to do then but to die, " observedMrs Null; "but I hope that day is far off, Uncle Isham. "

"Dunno 'bout dat, Miss Null, " said he. "But den some people do libdreffle long. Look at ole Aun' Patsy. Ise got to live a long time aforeI's as ole as Aun' Patsy is now. "

"You don't mean to say, " exclaimed Mrs Null, "that Aunt Patsy is aliveyet!"

"Ob course she is. Miss Null, " said Uncle Isham. "If she'd died senceyou've been here we'd a tole you, sartin. She was gwine to die las'week, but two or free days don' make much dif'rence to Aun' Patsy, shedone lib so long anyhow. "

"Aunt Patsy alive!" exclaimed Mrs Null again. "I'm going straight off tosee her. "

When she had reached the house, and had informed Letty where she wasgoing, the rotund maid expressed high approbation of the visit, andoffered to send Plez to show Miss Null the way. 

"I don't need any one to go with me, " said that lady, and away shestarted. 

"She don' neber want nobody to show her nowhar, " said Plez, returningwith looks of much disapprobation to his business of peeling potatoesfor dinner. 

When Mrs Null reached the cabin of Aunt Patsy, after about fifteenminutes' walk, she entered without ceremony, and found the old womansitting on a very low chair by the window, with the much-talked-of, many-colored quilt in her lap. Her white woolly head was partiallycovered with a red and yellow handkerchief, and an immense pair ofiron-bound spectacles obstructed the view of her small black face, linedand seamed in such a way that it appeared to have shrunk to half itsformer size. In her long, bony fingers, rusty black on the outside, anda very pale tan on the inside, she held a coarse needle and thread and acorner of the quilt. Near by, in front of a brick-paved fireplace, wasone of her great-granddaughters, a girl about eighteen years old, whowas down upon her hands and knees, engaged with lungs, more powerfulthan ordinary bellows, in blowing into flame a coal upon the hearth. 

"How d'ye Aunt Patsy?" said Mrs Null. "I didn't expect to see youlooking so well. "

"Dat's Miss Null, " said the girl, raising her eyes from the fire, andaddressing her ancestor. 

The old woman stuck her needle into the quilt, and reached out her handto her visitor, who took it cordially. 

"How d'ye, miss?" said Aunt Patsy, in a thin but quite firm voice, while the young woman got up and brought Mrs Null a chair, very short inthe legs, very high in the back, and with its split-oak bottom very muchsunken. 

"How are you feeling to-day, Aunt Patsy?" asked Mrs Null, gazing withmuch interest on the aged face. 

"'Bout as common, " replied the old woman. "I didn't spec' to be libin'dis week, but I ain't got my quilt done yit, an' I can't go 'mong deangels wrop in a shroud wid one corner off. "

"Certainly not, " answered Mrs Null. "Haven't you pieces enough to finishit?"

"Oh, yaas, I got bits enough, but de trouble is to sew 'em up. I can'tsew very fas' nowadays. "

"It's a pity for you to have to do it yourself, " said Mrs Null. "Can'tthis young person, your daughter, do it for you?"

"Dat's not my darter, " said the old woman. "Dat's my son Tom's yallerboy Bob's chile. Bob's dead. She can't do no sewin' for me. I'm 'notgwine ter hab folks sayin', Aun' Patsy done got so ole she can't do herown sewin'. "

"If you are not going to die till you get your quilt finished, AuntPatsy, " said Mrs Null, "I hope it won't be done for a long time. "

"Don' do to be waitin' too long, Miss. De fus' thing you know some udderculled pusson'll be dyin' wrop up in a quilt like dis, and git dar fus'. "

Mrs Null now looked about her with much interest, and asked manyquestions in regard to the old woman's comfort and ailments. To thesethe answers, though on the whole satisfactory, were quite short, AuntPatsy, apparently, much preferring to look at her visitor than to talkto her. And a very pretty young woman she was to look at, with a facewhich had grown brighter and plumper during every day of her countrysojourn. 

When Mrs Null had gone, promising to send Aunt Patsy something nice toeat, the old woman turned to her great-grand-daughter, and said, "Didanybody come wid her?"

"Nobody comed, " said the girl. "Reckon' she done git herse'f los' someo' dese days. "

The old woman made no answer, but folding up the maniac coverlid, shehanded it to the girl, and told her to put it away. 

That night Uncle Isham, by Mrs Null's orders, carried to Aunt Patsy abasket, containing various good things considered suitable for an agedcolored woman without teeth. 

"Miss Annie sen' dese h'yar?" asked the old woman, taking the basket andlifting the lid. 

"Miss Annie!" exclaimed Uncle Isham. "Who she?"

"Git out, Uncle Isham!" said Aunt Patsy, somewhat impatiently. "She wash'yar dis mawnin'. "

"Dat was Miss Null, " said Isham. 

"Miss Annie all de same, " said Aunt Patsy, "on'y growed up an' married. D'ye mean to stan' dar, Uncle Isham, an' tell me you don' know de littlegal wot Mahs' John use ter carry in he arms ter feed de tukkies?"

"She and she mudder dead long ago, " said Isham. "You is pow'ful ole, Aun' Patsy, an' you done forgit dese things. "

"Done forgit nuffin, " curtly replied the old woman. "Don' tell me nomoh' fool stuff. Dat Miss Annie, growed up an' married. "

"Did she tell you dat?" asked Isham. 

"She didn't tell me nuffin'. She kep' her mouf shet 'bout dat, an' Ikep' my mouf shet. Don' talk to me! Dat's Miss Annie, shuh as shootin'. Ef she hadn't fotch nuffin' 'long wid her but her eyes I'd a knowed dem;same ole eyes dey all had. An' 'sides dat, you fool Isham, ef she notMiss Annie, wot she come down h'yar fur?"

"Neber thinked o' dat!" said Uncle Isham, reflectively. "Ef you's sopow'ful shuh, Aun' Patsy, I reckon dat _is_ Miss Annie. Couldn't 'specme to 'member her. I wasn't much up at de house in dem times, an' shewas took away 'fore I give much 'tention ter her. "

"Don' ole miss know she dar?" asked Aunt Patsy. 

'"She dunno nuffin' 'bout it, " answered Isham. "She's stayin' away cosshe think Mahs' Junius dar yit. "

"Why don' you tell her, now you knows it's Miss Annie wot's dar?"

"You don' ketch me tellin her nuffin', " replied the old man shaking hishead. "Wish you was spry 'nuf ter go, Aun' Patsy. She'd b'lieve you; an'she couldn't rar an' charge inter a ole pusson like you, nohow. "

"Ain't dar nobody else in dis h'yar place to go tell her?" asked AuntPatsy. 

"Not a pusson, " was Isham's decided answer. 

"Well den I _is_ spry 'nuf!" exclaimed Aunt Patsy, with a vigorous nodof her head which sent her spectacles down to her mouth, displaying apair of little eyes sparkling with a fire, long thought to be extinct. "Ef you'll carry me dar, to Miss Harriet Corvey's, I'll tell ole missmyse'f. I didn't 'spec to go out dat dohr till de fun'ral, but I'll godis time. I spected dar was sumfin' crooked when Miss Annie didn't toleme who she was. Ise not 'feared to tell ole miss, an' you jes' carry meup dar, Uncle Isham. "

"I'll do dat, " said the old man, much delighted with the idea of doingsomething which he supposed would remove the clouds which overhung thehousehold of his mistress. "I'll fotch de hoss an' de spring waggin an'dribe you ober dar. "

"No, you don' do no sech thing!" exclaimed Aunt Patsy, angrily. "I ain'tgwine to hab no hosses to run away, an' chuck me out on de road. Ef youkin fotch de oxen an' de cart, I go 'long wid you, but I don' want nohosses. "

"Dat's fus' rate, " said Isham. "I'll fotch de ox cart, an' carry youober. When you want ter go?"

"Dunno jes' now, " said Aunt Patsy, pushing away a block of wood whichserved for a footstool, and making elaborate preparations to rise fromher chair. "I'll sen' fur you when I's ready. "

The next morning was a very busy one for Aunt Patsy's son Tom's yellowboy Bob's child; and by afternoon it was necessary to send for twocolored women from a neighboring cabin to assist in the preparationswhich Aunt Patsy was making for her projected visit. An old hair coveredtrunk, which had not been opened for many years, was brought out, andthe contents exposed to the unaccustomed light of day; two coarse cottonpetticoats were exhumed and ordered to be bleached and ironed; a yellowflannel garment of the same nature was put aside to be mended with somered pieces which were rolled up in it; out of several yarn stockings ofvarious ages and lengths two were selected as being pretty much alike, and laid by to be darned; an old black frock with full "bishop sleeves, "a good deal mended and dreadfully wrinkled, was given to one of theneighbors, expert in such matters, to be ironed; and the propriety ofmaking use of various other ancient duds was eagerly and earnestlydiscussed. Aunt Patsy, whose vitality had been wonderfully aroused, nowthat there was some opportunity for making use of it, spent nearly twohours turning over, examining, and reflecting upon a pair ofold-fashioned corsets, which, although they had been long cherished, shehad never worn. She now hoped that the occasion for their use had atlast arrived but the utter impossibility of getting herself into themwas finally made apparent to her, and she mournfully returned them tothe trunk. 

Washing, starching, ironing, darning, patching, and an immense deal oftalk and consultation, occupied that and a good deal of the followingday, the rest of which was given up to the repairing of an immense pairof green baize shoes, without which Aunt Patsy could not be persuaded togo into the outer air. It was Saturday morning when she began to dressfor the trip, and although Isham, wearing a high silk hat, and a longblack coat which had once belonged to a clergyman, arrived with the oxcart about noon, the old woman was not ready to start till two or threehours afterward. Her assistants, who had increased in number, wereactive and assiduous. Aunt Patsy was very particular as to the manner ofher garbing, and gave them a great deal of trouble. It had been fifteenyears since she had set foot outside of her house, and ten more sinceshe had ridden in any kind of vehicle. This was a great occasion, andnothing concerning it was to be considered lightly. 

"'Tain't right, " she said to Uncle Isham when he arrived, "fur a pow'fulole pusson like me to set out on a jarney ob dis kin' 'thout 'ligioussarvices. 'Tain't 'spectable. "

Uncle Isham rubbed his head a good deal at this remark. "Dunno wot wegwine to do 'bout dat, " he said. "Brudder Jeemes lib free miles off, an'mos' like he's out ditchin'. Couldn't git him h'yar dis ebenin', nohow. "

"Well den, " said Aunt Patsy, "you conduc' sarvices yourse'f, UncleIsham, an' we kin have prar meetin', anyhow. "

Uncle Isham having consented to this, he put his oxen under the care ofa small boy, and collecting in Aunt Patsy's room the five colored womenand girls who were in attendance upon her, he conducted "prars, " makingan extemporaneous petition which comprehended all the probablecontingencies of the journey, even to the accident of the right wheel ofthe cart coming off, which the old man very reverently asserted that hewould have lynched with a regular pin instead of a broken poker handle, if he could have found one. After the prayer, with which Aunt Patsysignified her entire satisfaction by frequent Amens, the company joinedin the vigorous singing of a hymn, in which they stated that they were"gwine down to Jurdun, an' tho' the road is rough, when once we shuh wegit dar, we all be glad enough; de rocks an' de stones, an' de jolts tode bones will be nuffin' to de glory an' de jiy. "

The hymn over, Uncle Isham clapped on his hat, and hurried menacinglyafter the small boy, who had let the oxen wander along the roadsideuntil one wheel of the cart was nearly in the ditch. Aunt Patsy nowpartook of a collation, consisting of a piece of hoe-cake dipped in porkfat, and a cup of coffee, which having finished, she declared herselfready to start. A chair was put into the cart, and secured by ropes tokeep it from slipping; and then, with two women on one side and UncleIsham on the other, while another woman stood in the cart to receive andadjust her, she was placed in position. 

Once properly disposed she presented a figure which elicited the livelyadmiration of her friends, whose number was now increased by the arrivalof a couple of negro boys on mules, who were going to the post-office, it being Saturday, and mail day. Around Aunt Patsy's shoulders was abright blue worsted shawl, and upon her head a voluminous turban ofvivid red and yellow. Since their emancipation, the negroes in that partof the country had discarded the positive and gaudy colors that weretheir delight when they were slaves, and had transferred their fancy todelicate pinks, pale blues, and similar shades. But Aunt Patsy's ideasabout dress were those of by-gone days, and she was too old now tochange them, and her brightest handkerchief had been selected for herhead on this important day. Above her she held a parasol, which had beengraciously loaned by her descendant of the fourth generation. It waswhite, and lined with pink, and on the edges still lingered somefragments of cotton lace. 

Uncle Isham now took his position by the side of his oxen, and startedthem; and slowly creaking, Aunt Patsy's vehicle moved off, followed bythe two boys on mules, three colored women and two girls on foot, and bytwo little black urchins who were sometimes on foot, but invariably onthe tail of the cart when they could manage to evade the backward turnof Uncle Isham's eye. 

"Ef I should go to glory on de road, Uncle Isham, " said Aunt Patsy, asthe right wheel of the cart emerged from a rather awkward rut, "I don'want no fuss made 'bout me. You kin jes' bury me in de clothes. I goton, 'cep'n de pararsol, ob course, which is Liza's. Jes' wrop de quiltall roun' me, an' hab a extry size coffin. You needn't do nuffin' more'ndat. "

"Oh, you's not gwine to glory dis time, Aun' Patsy, " replied UncleIsham, who did not want to encourage the idea of the old woman'sdeparture from life while in his ox cart. But after this remark of theold woman he was extraordinarily careful in regard to jolts and bumps. 

When the procession reached the domain of Miss Harriet Corvey, there wasgathered inside the yard quite a number of the usual attendants on maildays, awaiting the arrival of Wesley Green with his waddling horse andleather bag. But all interest in the coming of the mail was lost in thesurprise and admiration excited by the astounding apparition of old AuntPatsy in the ox cart, attended by her retinue. As the oxen, skilfullyguided by Uncle Isham's long prod, turned into the yard, everybody cameforward to find out the reason of this unlooked-for occurrence. Even oldMadison Chalkley, his stout legs swaddled in home-made overalls, dismounted from his horse, and Colonel Iston raised his tall form fromthe porch step where he had been sitting, and approached the cart. 

"Upon my word, " said a young fellow, with high boots, slouched hat, anda riding whip, "if here ain't old Aunt Patsy come after a letter! Wheredo you expect a letter from, Aunt Patsy?"

The old woman fixed her spectacles on him for an instant, and then saidin a clear voice which could be heard by all the little crowd: "'Tain'tfrom nobody dat I owes any money to, nohow, Mahs' Bill Trimble. "

A general laugh followed this rejoinder, and Uncle Isham grinned withgratified pride in the enduring powers of his charge. The old woman nowput down her parasol, and made as if she would descend from the cart. 

"You needn't git out, Aun' Patsy, " said several negro boys at once. "We'll fotch your letters to you. "

"Git 'long wid you!" said the old woman angrily. "I didn't come here furno letters. Ef I wanted letters I'd sen' 'Liza fur 'em. Git out de way. "

A chair was now brought, and placed near the cart; a woman mounted intothe vehicle to assist her; Uncle Isham and another colored man stoodready to receive her, and Aunt Patsy began her descent. This, to hermind, was a much more difficult and dangerous proceeding than gettinginto the cart, and she was very slow and cautious about it. First, oneof her great green baize feet was put over the tail of the cart, andresting her weight upon the two men, Aunt Patsy allowed it to descend tothe chair, where it was gradually followed by the other foot. Havingsafely accomplished this much, the old woman ejaculated: "Bress deLor'!" When, in the same prudent manner, she had reached the ground, she heaved a sigh of relief, and fervently exclaimed: "De Lor' bebressed!"

Supported by Uncle Isham, and the other man, Aunt Patsy now approachedthe steps. She was so old, so little, so bowed, and so apparentlyfeeble, that several persons remonstrated with her for attempting to gointo the house when anything she wanted would be gladly done for her. "Much 'bliged, " said the old woman, "but I don' want no letters nornuffin'. I's come to make a call on de white folks, an' I's gwine in. "

This announcement was received with a laugh, and she was allowed toproceed without further hindrance. She got up the porch steps withoutmuch difficulty, her supporters taking upon themselves most of thenecessary exertion; but when she reached the top, she dispensed withtheir assistance. Shuffling to the front door, she there met MissHarriet Corvey, who greeted the old woman with much surprise, but shookhands with her very cordially. 

"Ebenin', Miss Har'et, " said Aunt Patsy. And then, lowering her voiceshe asked: "Is ole miss h'yar?"

Miss Harriet hesitated a moment, and then she answered: "Yes, she is, but I don't believe she'll come down to see you. "

"Oh, I'll go up-stars, " said Aunt Patsy. "Whar she?"

"She's in the spare chamber, " said Miss Harriet; and Aunt Patsy, with anod of the head signifying that she knew all about that room, crossedthe hall, and began, slowly but steadily, to ascend the stairs. MissHarriet gazed upon her with amazement, for Aunt Patsy had been consideredchair-ridden when the postmistress was a young woman. Arrived at the endof her toilsome ascent, Aunt Patsy knocked at the door of the sparechamber, and as the voice of her old mistress said, "Come in!" she wentin. 

CHAPTER VII. 

When Lawrence Croft reached the Green Sulphur Springs, after hisinterview with Miss March, his soul was still bubbling and boiling withemotion, and it continued in that condition all night, at least duringthat great part of the night of which he was conscious. The sight of thelady he loved, under the new circumstances in which he found her, haddetermined him to throw prudence and precaution to the winds, and to askher at once to be his wife. 

But the next morning Lawrence arose very late. His coffee had evidentlybeen warmed over, and his bacon had been cooked for a long, long time. The world did not appear to him in a favorable light, and he was obligedto smoke two cigars before he was at all satisfied with it. While he wassmoking he did a good deal of thinking, and it was then that he came tothe conclusion that he would not go over to Midbranch and propose toRoberta March. Such precipitate action would be unjust to himself andunjust to her. In her eyes it would probably appear to be the act of aman who had been suddenly spurred to action by the sight of a rival, andthis, if Roberta was the woman he believed her to be, would prejudiceher against him. And yet he knew very well that these reasons wouldavail nothing if he should see her as he intended. He had found that hewas much more in love with her than he had supposed, and he feltpositively certain that the next time he was alone with her he woulddeclare his passion. 

Another thing that he felt he should consider was that the presence ofKeswick, if looked upon with a philosophic eye, was not a reason forimmediate action. If the old engagement had positively been broken off, he was at the house merely as a family friend; while, on the other hand, if the rupture had not been absolute, and if Roberta really loved thistall Southerner and wished to marry him, there was a feeling of honorabout Lawrence which forbade him to interfere at this moment. When shecame to New York he would find out how matters really stood, and then hewould determine on his own action. 

And yet he would have proposed to Roberta that moment if he had had theopportunity. Her personal presence would have banished philosophy, andeven honor. 

Lawrence was a long time in coming to these conclusions, and it was latein the afternoon when he despatched his note. Having now given up hisNorth Carolina trip--one object of which had been still another visit toMidbranch on his return--he was obliged to wait until the next day for atrain to the North; and, consequently, he had another evening to devoteto reflections. These, after a time, became unsatisfactory. He had toldthe exact truth in his note to Roberta, for he felt that it wasnecessary for him to leave that part of the country in order to makeimpossible an interview for which he believed the proper time had notarrived. He was consulting his best interests, and also, no doubt, thoseof the lady. And yet, in spite of this reasoning, he was not satisfiedwith himself. He felt that his note was not entirely honest and true. There was subterfuge about it, and something of duplicity. This hebelieved was foreign to his nature, and he did not like it. 

Lawrence had scarcely finished his breakfast the next morning when MrJunius Keswick arrived at the door of his cottage. This gentleman hadwalked over from Midbranch and was a little dusty about his boots andthe lower part of his trousers. Lawrence greeted him politely, but wasunable to restrain a slight indication of surprise. It being morepleasant on the porch than in the house, Mr Croft invited his visitor totake a seat there, and the latter very kindly accepted the cigar whichwas offered him, although he would have preferred the pipe he had in hispocket. 

"I thought it possible, " said Keswick, as soon as the two had fairlybegun to smoke, "that you might not yet have left here, and so came overin the hope of seeing you. "

"Very kind, " said Lawrence. 

Keswick smiled. "I must admit, " said he, "that it was not solely for thepleasure of meeting you again that I came, although I am very glad tohave an opportunity for renewing our acquaintance. I came because I amquite convinced that Miss March wished very much to see you at the timearranged between you, and that she was annoyed and discomposed by yourfailure to keep your engagement. Considering that you did not, andprobably could not, know this, I deemed I would do you a service byinforming you of the fact. "

"Did Miss March send you to tell me this?" exclaimed Lawrence. 

"Miss March knows nothing whatever of my coming, " was the answer. 

"Then I must say, sir, " exclaimed Lawrence, "that you have taken a greatdeal upon yourself. "

Keswick leaned forward, and after knocking off the ashes of his cigar onthe outside of the railing, he replied in a tone quite unmoved by thereproach of his companion: "It may appear so on the face of it, but, infact I am actuated only by a desire to serve Miss March, for whom Iwould do any service that I thought she desired. And, looking at it fromyour side, I am sure that I would be very much obliged to any one whowould inform me, if I did not know it, that a lady greatly wished to seeme. "

"Why does she want to see me?" asked Croft. "What has she to say to me?"

"I do not know, " said Keswick. "I only know that she was very muchdisappointed in not seeing you yesterday. "

"If that is the case, she might have written to me, " said Lawrence. 

"I do not think you quite understand the situation, " observed hiscompanion. "Miss March is not a lady who would even intimate to agentleman that she wished him to come to her when it was obvious thatsuch was not his desire. But it seemed to me that if the gentlemanshould become aware of the lady's wishes through the medium of a thirdparty, the matter would arrange itself without difficulty. "

"By the gentleman going to her, I suppose, " remarked Croft. 

"Of course, " said Keswick. 

"There is no 'of course' about it, " was Lawrence's rather quick reply. 

At that moment some letters were brought to him from a littlepost-office near by, to which he had ordered his mail to be forwarded. As the address on one of these letters caught his eye, the somewhatstern expression on his face gave place to a smile, and begging hisvisitor to excuse him, he put his other letters into his pocket, andopened this one. It was very short, and was from Mr Candy's cashier. Itwas written from Howlett's, Virginia, a place unknown to him, and statedthat the writer expected in a very short time to give him some accurateinformation in regard to Mr Keswick, and expressed the hope that hewould allow the affair to remain entirely in her hands until she shouldwrite again. It was quite natural that, under the circumstances, Lawrence should smile broadly as he folded up this note. The man inquestion was sitting beside him, and, in a measure, was turning thetables upon him. Lawrence had been very anxious to find out what sortof a man was Keswick, and the latter now seemed in the way of makingsome discoveries in the same line in regard to Lawrence. One thing hemust certainly do; he must write as soon as possible to his enterprisingagent, and tell her that her services were no longer needed. She musthave pushed the matter with a great deal of energy to have brought herdown to Virginia, and he could not help hoping that her discretion wasequal to her investigative capacity. 

When, after this little interruption, Lawrence again addressed JuniusKeswick his manner was so much more affable that the other could notfail but notice it. 

"Mr Keswick, " he said, "as our conversation seems to be based uponpersonalities, perhaps you will excuse me if I ask you if I am mistakenin believing that you were once engaged to be married to Miss March?"

"You are entirely correct, " said Junius. "I was engaged to her, and Ihope to be engaged to her again. "

"Indeed!" exclaimed Croft, turning in his chair with a start. 

"Yes, " continued Keswick, "our engagement was dissolved in consequenceof a certain family complication, and as I said before, I hope in timeto be able to renew it. "

Lawrence threw away his cigar, and sat for a few moments in thought. Theengagement, then, did not exist. Roberta was free. Recollections cameto him of his own intercourse with her during the past summer, and hisheart gave a bound. "Mr Keswick, " said he, "upon consideration of thematter I think I will call upon Miss March this morning. "

If Keswick had expressed himself entirely satisfied with this decisionhe would have done injustice to his feelings. The service he had takenupon himself to perform for Miss March he had considered a duty, but ifhis mission had failed he would have been better pleased than with itssuccess. He made, however, a courteous reply to Croft's remark, and roseto depart. But this the other would not allow. 

"You told me, " said Croft, "that you walked over here; but it is muchwarmer now, and you must not think of such a thing as walking back. Theman here has a horse and buggy. I will get him to harness up, and I willdrive you over to Midbranch. "

As there was no good reason why he should decline this offer, Juniusaccepted it, and in half an hour the two were on their way. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Old Mr Brandon of Midbranch was not in a very happy frame of mind, andhe had good reasons for dissatisfaction. He was an ardent supporter of amarriage between his niece and Junius Keswick; and when the engagementhad been broken off he had considered that both these young people hadacted in a manner very foolish and contrary to their best interests. There was no opposition to the match except from old Mrs Keswick, whowas the aunt of Junius, but who considered herself as occupying theposition of a mother. Junius was the son of a sister who had alsomarried into the Keswick family, and his parents having died while hewas a boy, his aunt had taken him under her charge, and her house hadthen became his home; although of late years some of his absences hadbeen long ones. Mrs Keswick had no personal objections to Roberta, neverhaving seen that lady, and knowing little of her; but an alliancebetween her Junius and any member of that branch of the Brandons, "which, " to use the old lady's own words, "had for four generationscheated, stripped, and scornfully used my people, scattering their atomsover the face of three counties, " was monstrous. Nothing could make herconsent to such an enormity, and she had informed Junius that if hemarried that March girl three of them should live together--himself, hiswife, and her undying curse. In order that Miss March might not fail tohear of this post-connubial arrangement, she had been informed of it byletter. Of course this had broken off the engagement, for Roberta wouldnot live under a curse, nor would she tear a man from the only nearrelative he had in the world. Keswick himself, like most men, would havebeen willing to have this tearing take place for the sake of unitinghimself to such a charming creature as Roberta March. But the lady onone side was as inflexible as the lady on the other, and the engagementwas definitely and absolutely ended. 

Mr Brandon considered all this as stuff and nonsense. He could not denythat his branch of the Brandons had certainly got a good deal out of MrsKeswick's family. But here was a chance to make everything all rightagain, and he would be delighted to see Junius, a relative, although adistant one, come into possession of Midbranch. As for the old lady'sopposition, that should not be considered at all, he thought. It was hisopinion that her mind had been twisted by her bad temper, and nothingshe could say could hurt anybody. 

Of late Mr Brandon had been much encouraged by the fact that Junius hadbegun to resume his position as a friend of the family. This was allvery well. If the young people, by occasional meetings, could keep alivetheir sentiments toward each other, the time would come when allopposition would cease, and the marriage would become an assured fact. He did not believe either of the young people would care enough for apost-mortem curse, if there should be one, to keep themselves separatedfrom each other on its account for the rest of their lives. 

But the recent quite unexpected return of Lawrence Croft to Midbranch, combined with the evident discomposure into which Roberta had beenthrown by his failure to come the next day, had given the old gentlemansome unpleasant ideas. His niece had mentioned that she expected MrCroft that day, and although she said nothing in regard to hersubsequent disappointment and vexation, his mind was quite acute enoughto perceive it. Exactly what it all meant he knew not, but it augureddanger. For the first time he began to look upon Mr Croft in the lightof a suitor for Roberta. If a jealous feeling at finding another personon the ground was the cause of his not coming again, it showed that hewas in earnest, and this, added to the evident disturbance of mind ofboth Roberta and Junius, was enough to give Mr Brandon most seriousfears that an obstacle to his cherished plan was arising. Roberta wasfond of city life, of society, of travel, and if she had really made upher mind that her union with Junius was no longer to be thought of, theadvent of a man like Croft, who had been making her acquaintance allsummer, and who had now returned to Virginia, no doubt for the solepurpose of seeing her again was, to say the least, exceedingly ominous. One thing only could correct this deplorable state of affairs. Theabsurd bar to the union of Junius and Roberta should be removed, andthey should be allowed to enter upon the happiness that was their right. 

Above all, the estate of Midbranch should not be suffered to go into thepossession of an outsider, who might be good enough, but who was of noearthly moment or interest to the Brandons. He would go himself, and seethe widow Keswick, and talk her out of her nonsense. It was a long timesince he had met the old wild cat, as he termed her, and hisrecollection of the last interview was not pleasant, but he was notafraid of her, and he hoped that the common sense of what he would saywould bring her to reason. 

Mr Brandon made up his mind during the night; and when he came down tobreakfast he was very glad to find that Junius had already gone out fora walk. The distance to the widow Keswick's house was about fifteenmiles, a pleasant day's ride for the old gentleman, and as he did notexpect to return until the next day, he felt obliged to inform Robertaof his destination, although, of course, he said nothing about theobject of his visit. He told his niece that he was obliged to see thewidow Keswick on business, to which remark she listened without reply. 

Soon after breakfast he mounted his good horse, Albemarle, and early inthe afternoon he arrived at the widow Keswick's gate. He had looked fora stormy reception, in which the thunder-bolts of rage should burstaround him, and he was surprised, therefore, to be received with thefrigidity of the North Pole. 

"I never expected, " she said, without any previous courtesy, "to see oneof your people under my roof, and it is not very long ago since I wouldhave gone away from it the moment any one of you came near it. "

"I am happy, madam, " said Mr Brandon, in his most courteous manner, "that that day is past. "

"My staying won't do you any good, " said the old lady, whose purplesun-bonnet seemed to heave with the uprisal of her hair, "except, perhaps, to get you a better meal than the servants would have givenyou. But I want a lawyer, and I can't afford to pay for one either, andwhen I saw you coming I just made up my mind to get something out ofyou, and if I do it, it'll be the first red mark for my side of thefamily. "

Mr Brandon assured her that nothing would give him more pleasure than toassist her in any way in his power. 

"Very well, then, " said Mrs Keswick, "just sit down on that bench, and, when we have got through, your horse can be taken, and you can rest awhile, though it seems a very curious thing that you should want to stophere to rest. "

"Well, madam, " said Mr Brandon, seating himself as comfortably aspossible on a wooden bench, "I shall be happy to hear anything you haveto say. "

The old lady did not sit down, but stood up in front of him, leaning onher umbrella, with which faithful companion she had been about to setout on her walk. "When my son Junius came home a while ago--" she began. 

"Do you still call him your son?" interrupted Mr Brandon. 

"Indeed I do!" was the very prompt answer. "That's just what he is. And, as I was going to say, when he wrote me a short time ago that he wascoming here, I believed, from his letter, that he had some scheme onhand in regard to your niece, and I made up my mind I wouldn't stay inthe house to hear anything more said on that subject. I had told himthat I never wanted him to say another word about it; and it made myblood boil, sir, to think that he had come again to try to cozen me intothe vile compact. "

"Madam!" exclaimed Mr Brandon. 

"The next day, " continued Mrs Keswick, "a lady arrived; and as soon as Isaw her drive into the gate I felt sure it was Roberta March, and thatthe two had hatched up a plot to come and work on my feelings, and so Iwouldn't come near the house. "

"Madam!" exclaimed Mr Brandon, "how could you dream such a thing of myniece? You don't know her, madam. "

"No, " said the old lady, "I don't know her, but I knew she belonged toyour family, and so I was not to be surprised at anything she did. But Ifound out I was mistaken. An old negro woman recognized this youngperson as the daughter of my younger sister you know there were three ofus. The child was born and raised here, but I have not seen and havescarcely heard of her since she was eight years old. "

"That's very extraordinary, madam, " said Mr Brandon. 

"No, it isn't, when you consider the stubbornness, the obstinacy, andthe wickedness of some people. My sister sickened when the child wasabout six years old, and her husband, Harvey Peyton--"

"I have frequently heard of him, madam, " said Mr Brandon. 

"And I wish I never had, " said she. "Well, he was travelling most of thetime, a thing my sister couldn't do; but he came here then and stayed, off and on, till she died. And not long afterward, just because I toldhim that I intended to consider the child as my child, and that sheshould have the name of Keswick instead of his name, and should know meas her mother, and live with me always, he got angry and flared up, andactually took the child away. I gave it to him hot, I can tell you, before he left, and I never saw him again. He was so eaten up with ragebecause I wanted to take the little Annie for my own, that he filled hermind with such prejudices against me that when he died a year or twoago, she actually went to work to get her own living instead of applyingto me for help. But now she has come down here, and I was really filledwith joy to have her again and carry out the plan on which my heart hadlong been set--that is to marry her to her cousin Junius, and let themhave this farm when I am gone, ----?"

At this Mr Brandon raised his eyebrows, and lowered the corners of hismouth. 

"But I suddenly discover, " continued the old, lady, "that the littlewretch is married--actually married. "

At this Mr Brandon lowered his eyebrows and raised the corners of hismouth. "Did her husband come with her?" he asked, pleasantly. And hegave a few long, free breaths as if he had just passed in safety a verydangerous and unsuspected rock. 

"No, he didn't, " replied the old lady. "I don't know where he is, and, from what I can make out, he is an utterly good-for-nothing fellow, allowing his wife to go where she pleases, and take care of herself. Nowthis abominable marriage stands square in the way of the plan whichagain rose up in my mind the moment I heard that the girl was in myhouse. If Junius and she should marry, there would be no more dangersfor me to look out for. "

"But the existence of a husband, " said Mr Brandon blandly, "puts an endto all thoughts of such an alliance. "

"No it don't, " said the old lady, bringing her umbrella down with forceon the porch. "Not a bit of it. Such an outrageous marriage should notbe suffered to exist. They should be divorced. He does nothing for her, and neglects and deserts her absolutely. There's every ground for adivorce, or enough grounds, at any rate. All that's necessary is for alawyer to take it up. I don't know any lawyers, and when I saw youriding up from the road gate I said to myself: 'Here's the very man Iwant, --and it's full time I should get something from people who havetaken nearly everything from me. '"

Mr Brandon bowed. 

"And now, " continued the old lady, "I am going to put the case into yourhands. The man is, evidently, a good-for-nothing scoundrel, and hasprobably spent the little money that her miserable father left her. It'sa clear case of desertion, and there should be no trouble at all ingetting the divorce. "

Mr Brandon looked down upon the floor of the porch, and smiled. This wasa pretty case, he thought, to put into his hands. Here was a marriagewhich was the strongest protection in the promotion of his own plan, andhe was asked to annul it. "Very good, " thought Mr Brandon, "very good. "And he smiled again. But he was an old-fashioned gentleman, and not usedto refuse requests made to him by ladies. "I will look into it, madam, "said he. "I will look into it, and see what can be done. "

"Something must be done, " said the old lady; "and the right thing too. How long do you intend to stay here?"

"I thought of spending the night, madam, as my horse and myself arescarcely in condition to continue our journey to-day. "

"Stay as long as you like, " said Mrs Keswick. "I turn nobody from mydoors, even if they belong to the Brandon family. I want you to talk tomy niece, and get all you can out of her about this thing, and then youcan go to work and blot out this contemptible marriage as soon aspossible. "

"The first thing, " said Mr Brandon, "will be to talk to the lady. "

This reply being satisfactory to Mrs Keswick, Uncle Isham was called totake the horse and attend to him, while the master was invited into thehouse. 

Mr Brandon first met Mrs Null at supper time, and her appearance verymuch pleased him. "It is not likely, " he said to himself, "that the manlives who would willingly give up such a charming young creature asthis. " They were obliged to introduce themselves to each other, as thelady of the house had not yet appeared. After a while Letty, who was inattendance, advised them to sit down as "de light bread an' debatter-bread was gittin' cole. "

"We could not think of such a thing as sitting at table before MrsKeswick arrives, " said Mr Brandon. 

"Oh, dar's no knowin' when she'll come, " said the blooming Letty. "Shemay be h'yar by breakfus time, but dar ain't nobuddy in dis yere worl'kin tell. She's down at de bahn now, blowin' up Plez fur gwine to sleepwhen he was a shellin' de cohnfiel' peas. An' when she's got froo widhim she's got a bone to pick wid Uncle Isham 'bout de gyardin'. 'Tain'tno use waitin' fur ole miss. She nebber do come when de bell rings. Shecome when she git ready, an' not afore. "

Mr Brandon now felt quite sure that it was the intention of his hostessnot to break bread with one of his family, and so he seated himself, MrsNull taking the head of the table and pouring out the tea and coffee. 

"It has been a long time, madam, since you were in this part of thecountry, " said the old gentleman, as he drew the smoking batter-breadtoward him and began to cut it. 

"Yes, " said Mrs Null, "not since I was a little girl. I suppose you haveheard, sir, that Aunt Keswick and my father were on very bad terms, andwould not have anything to do with each other?"

"Oh, yes, " said Mr Brandon, "I have heard that. "

"But my father is not living now, and I am down here again. "

"And your husband? He did not accompany you?" said Mr Brandon. 

"No, " replied Mrs Null, very quickly. "We were both very sorry that itwas not possible for him to come with me. "

Mr Brandon's spirits began to rise. This did not look quite likedesertion. "I have no doubt you have a very good husband. I am sure youdeserve such a one, " he said with the air of a father, and the purposeof a lawyer. 

"Good!" exclaimed Mrs Null, her eyes sparkling. 

"He couldn't be better if he tried! Will you have sweet milk, orbuttermilk?"

"Buttermilk, if you please, " said Mr Brandon. "Of course your aunt wasdelighted to have you with her again. "

"Oh, " said Mrs Null, with a laugh, "she was not at home when I arrived, but when she returned nothing could be too good for me. Why, she hadbeen here scarcely half an hour, and hadn't taken off her sun-bonnet, before she told me I was to marry Junius and we two were to have thisfarm. "

"A very pleasant plan, truly, " said Mr Brandon. 

"But then, you see, " continued the young girl, "Mr Null stood dreadfullyin the way of such an arrangement; and when Aunt Keswick heard about himyou can't imagine what a change came over her. "

"Oh, yes I can; yes I can, " exclaimed Mr Brandon--"I can imagine itvery well. "

"But she didn't give up a bit, " said Mrs Null. "I don't think she everdoes give up. "

"You are right, there, " said Mr Brandon, "quite right. But what does shepropose to do?"

"I don't know, I'm sure; but she said I had no right to marry withoutthe consent of my surviving relatives, and that she was going to lookinto it. I can't think what she means by that. "

Mr Brandon made no immediate answer. He gave Mrs Null some damsonpreserves, and he took some himself, and then he helped himself to agreat hot roll, from a plate that Letty had just brought in, andcarefully opening it he buttered it on the inside, and covered one-halfof it with the damson preserves. This he began slowly to eat, drinkingat times from the foaming glass of buttermilk at the side of his plate, from which the coffee-cup had been removed. When he had finished thehalf roll he again spoke. "I think, my dear young lady, that your auntis desirous of having your marriage set aside. "

"How can she do that?" exclaimed the girl, her face flushing. "Has shebeen talking to you about it?"

"I cannot deny that she has spoken to me on the subject, " he answered, "I being a lawyer. But I will say to you, in strict confidence, please, that if you and your husband are sincerely attached to each other thereis nothing on earth she can do to separate you. "

"Attached!" exclaimed Mrs Null. "It would be impossible for us to bemore attached than we are. We never have had the slightest difference, even of opinion, since our wedding day. Why, I believe that we are morelike one person than any married couple in the world. "

"I am very glad to hear it, " said Mr Brandon, finishing hisbuttermilk--"very glad indeed. And, feeling as you do, I am certainthat nothing your aunt can say will make any impression on you in regardto seeking a divorce. "

"I should think not!" said Mrs Null, sitting up very straight. "Divorceindeed!"

"I fully uphold you in the stand you have taken, " said Mr Brandon. "ButI beg you will not mention this conversation to your aunt. It would onlyannoy her. Is your cousin expected here shortly?"

"I believe so, " she said. "To be sure, my aunt left the house the lasttime he came, but she has his address, and has written for him. I thinkshe wants us to get acquainted as soon as possible, so that no time willbe lost in marrying us after poor Mr Null is disposed of. "

"Very good, very good, " said Mr Brandon with a laugh. "And now, my dearyoung friend, I want to give you a piece of advice. Stay here as long asyou can. Your aunt will soon perceive the absurdity of her ideas inregard to your husband, and will cease to annoy you. Make a friend ofyour cousin Junius, whom I know and respect highly; and he certainlywill be of advantage to you. Above all things, endeavor to thoroughlyreconcile him and Mrs Keswick, so that she will cease to oppose hiswishes, and to interfere with his future fortune. If you can bring backgood feeling between these two, you will be the angel of the family. "

"Thank you, " said Mrs Null, as they rose from the table. 

The next morning, after Mr Brandon and Mrs Null had breakfastedtogether, the mistress of the house, having apparently finished theperformance of the duties which had kept her from the breakfast-table, had some conversation with her visitor. In this he repeated very littleof what he had said to the younger lady the night before, but heassured Mrs Keswick that he had discovered that it would be a verydelicate thing to propose to her niece a divorce from her husband, athing to which she was not at all inclined, as he had found. 

"Of course not! of course not!" exclaimed Mrs Keswick. "She can't beexpected to see what a wretched plight she has got herself into bymarrying this straggler from nobody knows where. "

"But, madam, " said Mr Brandon, "if you worry her about it, she willleave you, and then all will be at an end. Now, let me advise you asyour lawyer. Keep her here as long as you can. Do everything possible tofoster friendship and good feeling between her and Junius; and to dothis you must forget as far as possible all that has gone by, and befriendly with both of them yourself. "

"Humph!" said the widow Keswick. "I didn't ask you for advice of thatsort. "

"It is all a part of the successful working of the case, madam, " said MrBrandon. "A thorough good feeling must be established before anythingelse can be done. "

"I suppose so, " said the old lady. "She must learn to like us before shebegins to hate him. And how about your niece? Are you going to send herdown here to help on in the good feeling?"

"I have not brought my niece into this affair, " replied Mr Brandon, withdignity. 

"Well, then, see that you don't, " was the widow Keswick's reply. And theinterview terminated. 

When Mr Brandon rode away on his good horse Albemarle, he looked at thepost of the road gate from which he was lifting the latch by means ofthe long wooden handle arranged for the convenience of riders, and saidto himself: "John Keswick was a good man, but I don't wonder he came outhere and shot himself. It is a great pity though that it wasn't his wifewho did it, instead of him. That would have been a blessing to all ofus. But, " he added, contemplatively, as he closed the gate, "the peoplein this world who ought to blow out their brains, never do. "

Soon after he had gone, Mrs Null went up Pine Top Hill, and sat down onthe rock to have a "think. " "Now, then, Freddy, " she said, "everythingdepends on you. If you don't stand by me I am lost--that is to say, Imust go away from here before Junius comes; and you know I don't want todo that. I want to see him on my account, and on his account too; but Idon't want him crammed down my throat for a husband the moment hearrives, and that is just what will happen if you don't do your duty, MrNull. Even if it wasn't for you, I don't want to look at him from thehusband point of view, because, of course, he is a very different personfrom what he used to be, and is a total stranger to me. 

"It is actually more than twelve years since I have seen him, andbesides that, he is just as good as engaged to that niece of MrBrandon's, who is a horrible mixture of a she-wolf and a female mule, ifI am to believe Aunt Keswick, but I expect she is, truly, a very nicegirl. Though, to be sure, she can't have much spirit if she consented tobreak off her marriage just on account of the back-handed benedictionwhich Aunt Keswick told me she offered her as a wedding gift. If I hadwanted to marry a man I would have let the old lady curse the heels offher boots before I would have paid any attention to her. Cursing don'thurt anybody but the curser. 

"What I want of Junius is to make a friend of him, if he turns out to bethe right kind of a person, and to tell him about this Mr Croft who isso anxious to find him. The only person I have met yet who seems like anordinary Christian is old Mr Brandon, and he's a sly one, I'm afraid. Aunt Keswick thinks he stopped here on his way somewhere, but I don'tbelieve a word of it. I believe he came for reasons of his own, and wentright straight back again. You are almost as much to him, Freddy, as youare to me. It would have made you laugh if you could have seen how hisface lighted up when he heard we were happy together, and that I wouldnot listen to a divorce. And yet I am sure he has promised Aunt Keswickto see what he can do about getting one. He wants me to stay here andmake friends of Aunt Keswick and Junius, but he wouldn't like that if itwere not for you, Mr Null. You make everything safe for him. 

"And now, Freddy, I tell you again, that all depends upon you. If I'm tostay here--and I want to do that, for a time any way, for although AuntKeswick is so awfully queer, she's my own aunt, and that's more than Ican say for anybody else in the world--you must stiffen up, and stand byme. It won't do to give way for a minute. If necessary you must taketonics, and have a steel rod down your back, if you can't keep yourselferect without it. You must have your legs padded, and your chest thrownout; and you must stand up very strong and sturdy, Freddy, and not letthem push you an inch this way or that. And now that we have made up ourminds on this subject, we'll go down, for it's getting a little cool onthe top of this hill. "

CHAPTER IX. 

On the morning of her uncle's departure from Midbranch, Roberta came outon the porch, and took her seat in a large wooden arm-chair, puttingdown her key basket on the floor beside her. The day was bright andsunny, and the shadows of two or three turkey buzzards, who werecircling in the air, moved over the field in front of the house. In thisfield also moved, not so fast, nor so gracefully as the shadows, twoploughs, one near by, and the other at quite a distance. The woods whichshut out a great part of the horizon showed many a bit of color, but thescene, although bright enough in some of its tones, was not a cheeringone to Roberta; and she needed cheering. 

Had it not been for the delay of her father in making his winter visitto New York, she would now be in that city, but if things had gone on asshe expected they would, she would have been perfectly satisfied toremain several weeks longer at Midbranch. Junius Keswick, who had notvisited the house for a long time, had come to them again; and, now thatthe subject of love and marriage had been set aside, it was charming tohave him there as a friend. They not only walked in the woods, but theytook long rides over the country, Mr Brandon having waived hisobjections in regard to his niece riding about with gentlemen. She hadeven been pleased with the unexpected return of Lawrence Croft, for, forreasons of her own, she wished very much to have a talk with him. But hehad not fulfilled his promise to her, and had gone away in a veryunsatisfactory manner. 

This morning she felt a little lonely, too, for Junius had left theplace before breakfast, and she did not know where he had gone; and heruncle had actually ridden away to see that horrible widow Keswick, merely stating that his errand was a business one, and that he would beback the next day. Roberta knew that there had been a great deal ofbusiness, particularly that of an unpleasant kind, between the twofamilies, but she did not believe that there was any ordinary affairconcerning dollars and cents which would require the presence of heruncle at the house of his old enemy. She was very much afraid that hehad gone there to try to smooth up matters in regard to Junius andherself. The thought of this made her indignant. She did not know whather uncle would say, and she did not want him to say anything. He couldnot make the horrible old creature change her mind in regard to themarriage, and if this was not done, there was no use discussing thematter at all, and she did not wish people to think she was anxious forthe match. 

It was plain, however, that her uncle's desire for it had experienced astrong revival; and the unexpected return of Lawrence Croft had probablyhad a great effect on him. He had not objected to the visits of thatgentleman during the summer, but he had never shown any strong likingfor him, and Roberta said to herself that she could not see, for herpart, why this should be; Mr Croft was a thorough gentleman, anexceedingly well educated and agreeable man. 

As to Junius, she was afraid that he had not the spirit which she usedto think he possessed. There was something about him she could notunderstand. In former days, when Junius was in New York, she comparedhim with the young men there, very much to his advantage, but now MrCroft seemed to throw him somewhat in the background. When Croft wantedto do anything he did it; even his failure to come to her when he saidhe would do so showed strength of will. If Junius had promised to comehe would have come, even if he had not wanted to do so, and there wouldhave been something weak about that. 

While she thus sat thinking, and gazing over the landscape, she saw afaroff, on a portion of the road which ran along-side the woods, a vehicleslowly making its way to the house. Roberta had large and beautifuleyes, but they were not of the kind which would enable her to discoverat so great a distance what sort of vehicle this was, and who was in it. As the road led nowhere but to Midbranch she was naturally desirous toknow who was coming. She stepped into the hall, and, taking a smallbell, rang it vigorously, and in a moment her youthful handmaiden, Peggy, appeared upon the scene. Peggy's habit of projecting her eyesinto the far away could often be turned to practical account for hervision was, in a measure, telescopic. 

"What is that coming here along the road?" asked Miss Roberta, steppingupon the porch, and pointing out the distant vehicle. 

Peggy stood up straight, let her arms hang close to her sides, andlooked steadfastly forth. "Wot's comin', Miss Rob, " said she, "is thebuggy 'longin' to Mister Michaels, at de Springs, an' his olemud-colored hoss is haulin' it. Dem dat's in it is Mahs' Junius an'Mister Crof'. "

"Are you sure of that?" exclaimed Miss Roberta in astonishment. "Lookagain. "

"Yaas'm, " replied Peggy. "I's sartin shuh. But dey jes gwine behin' detrees now. "

The road was not again visible for some distance, but when the buggyreappeared Peggy gave a start, and exclaimed: "Dar's on'y one pusson init now, Miss Rob. "

"Which is it?" exclaimed her mistress quickly, shading her eyes, andendeavoring to see for herself. 

"It's Mister Crof', " said Peggy. "Mahs' Junius mus' done gone back. "

"It is too bad!" exclaimed Miss Roberta. "I will not see him. Peggy, "she said, snatching up the key basket, and stepping toward the halldoor, "when that gentleman, Mr Croft, comes, you must tell him that I amup-stairs lying down, that I am not well, and cannot see him, and thatyour Master Robert is not at home. "

"Ef Mahs' Junius come, does you want me to tell him de same thing?"

"But you said he was not in the buggy, " said her mistress. 

"No'm, " answered Peggy, "but p'raps he done cut acrost de plough fiel', an' git h'yar fus'. "

"If he comes first, " said Miss Roberta, a shade of severity pervadingher handsome features, "I want to see him. " And with this, she wentup-stairs. 

Peggy, with her shoes on, possessed the stolid steadiness of a woodengrenadier, for the heaviness of the massive boots seemed to permeate herwhole being, and communicated what might be considered a slow and heavyfootfall to her intellect. Peggy, without shoes, was a panther on twolegs, and her mind, like her body, was capable of enormous leaps. Slipping off her heavy brogans, she made a single bound, and stood uponthe railing of the porch, and, throwing her arm around a post, gazedforth from this point of vantage. 

"Bress my eberlastin' soul!" she exclaimed, "if Mister Crof ain't gotter de road gate, and is a waitin' dar fur somebody to come open it!Does he think anybody gwine to see him all de way from de house, andcome open de gate? Reckin' he don' know dat ole mud-color hoss. Hemought git out and let down de whole fence, an' dat ole hoss ud nebbermove. Bress my soul moh' p'intedly! ef Mahs' Junius ain't comin' 'longter open de gate!"

For a few moments Peggy stood and stared, her mind not capable ofgrasping this astounding situation. "No, he ain't nudder!" she presentlyexclaimed with an air of relief. "Mahs' Junius done tole him dat ef hewant dat gate open he better git down and open it hese'f. Dat's rightMahs' Junius! Stick up to dat! Dar go Mahs' Junius into de woods an'Mister Crof' he git out, an' go after him. Dey's gwine to fight, sartin, shuh! Lordee! wot fur dey 'low dem bushes ter grow 'long de fence tokeep folks from seein' wot's gwine on!"

There was nothing now to be seen from the railing, and Peggy jumped downon the porch. Her activity seemed to pervade her being. She ran down thefront steps, crossed the lawn, and mounted the stile. Here she couldcatch sight of the two men who seemed to be disputing. This was too muchfor Peggy. If there was to be a fight she wanted to see it; and, apartfrom her curiosity, she had a loyal interest in the event. Down thesteps, and along the road she went at the top of her speed, and soonreached the gate. Her arrival was not noticed by any one except themud-colored horse, who gazed at her inquiringly; and looking through thebars, without opening the gate, Peggy had a good view of the gentlemen. 

The situation was a more simple one than Peggy had imagined. The road, for the last half mile, had been an up-hill one, and Keswick, as much tostretch his own legs as to save those of the horse, had alighted towalk, while Lawrence, as in duty bound, had waited for him at the gate. Here a little argument had arisen. Keswick, who did not wish to be at thehouse, or indeed about the place while Roberta was having her conferencewith Mr Croft, had said that he had concluded not to go up to the house atpresent, but would take a walk through the woods instead. Lawrence, whothought he divined his reason, felt an honorable indisposition to acceptthis advantage at the hands of a man who was, most indisputably, hisrival. If they went together it would not appear as if he had waited forKeswick's absence to return; and there would still be no reason why heshould not have his private walk and talk with Miss March. 

At all events, it seemed to him unfair to leave Keswick at the gatewhile he went up to the house by himself, and the notion of it did notplease him at all. Keswick, however, was very resolute in hisopposition. He objected even to seeing Roberta and Croft together. Hethought, besides, if he and Croft came to the house at the same time itwould appear very much as if he, Junius, had brought the other, and thiswas an appearance he wished very much to avoid. He had walked away, andLawrence had jumped from the buggy to continue the friendly argumentwhich was not finished when Peggy arrived. Almost immediately after thisevent Keswick positively insisted that he would go for a walk, andLawrence reluctantly turned toward the vehicle. 

Peggy's mind was filled with horror. Master Junius had been frightenedaway, and the other man was coming up to the house! She could not standthere and allow such a catastrophe. Jerking open the gate, she rushedinto the road and confronted Keswick. 

"Mahs' Junius, " she exclaimed, "Miss Rob's orful sick wid her back an'her j'ints, an' she say she can't see no kump'ny folks, an' Mahs' Roberthe done gone away to see ole Miss Keswick. I jes run down h'yar to tellyou to hurry up. "

Keswick started. "Where did you say your Master Robert had gone?"

"To ole Miss Keswick's. He went dis mawnin'. "

Junius turned slightly pale, and addressing Mr Croft, said: "Somethingvery strange must have happened here! Miss March is ill, and Mr Brandonhas gone to a place to which I think nothing but a matter of the utmostimportance could take him. "

"In that case, " said Mr Croft, "it will be highly improper for me to goto the house just now. I am very glad that I heard the news before I gotthere. I will return to the Springs, and will call to-morrow and inquireafter Miss March's health. Do not let me detain you as your presence isevidently much needed at the house. "

"Thank you, " said Keswick, hurriedly shaking hands with him. "I amafraid something very unexpected has happened, and so beg you willexcuse me. Good-morning. " And passing through the gateway, he rapidlystrode toward the house, while Lawrence prepared to turn his horse'shead toward the Springs. 

But, although Junius Keswick walked rapidly, Peggy, who had startedfirst for the house, kept well in advance of him. Away she went, skipping, running, dancing. Once she stopped and turned, and saw thatthe buggy, with the mud-colored horse, was being driven away, and thatMaster Junius was coming along the road to the house. Then she startedoff, and ran steadily, the rapid show of the light-colored soles of herfeet behind her suggestive of a steamer's wake. Up the broad stile shewent, two steps at a time, and down the other side in a couple of jumps;a dozen skips took her across the lawn; and she bounded up to the porchas if each wooden step had been a springing board. She rushed up-stairs, and stood at the open door of Miss Roberta's room where that ladyreclined upon a lounge. 

"Hi', Miss Rob!" she exclaimed, involuntarily snapping her fingers asshe spoke. "Mahs' Junius comin', all by hese'f, an' I done sent de uddergemman clean off, kitin'!"

CHAPTER X. 

Junius Keswick was received by Miss Roberta in the parlor. Her face wascolder and sterner than he had ever seen it before, and his countenancewas very much troubled. Each wished to speak first, and ask questions, but the lady went immediately to the front. 

"How did it happen that you and Mr Croft were coming here together?Where had you been?"

"We came from the Green Sulphur Springs, where I called on him thismorning. "

"I thought he was obliged to return immediately to the North. What madehim change his mind?"

"Perhaps it will be better not to discuss that now, " said Junius. 

"I wish to discuss it, " was the reply. "What induced him not to go?"

"I did, " answered Junius, looking steadfastly at her. "Did you not wishto see him?"

For a moment Miss Roberta did not answer, but her face grew pale, andshe threw herself back in the chair in which she was sitting. "Never inmy life, " she said, "have I been subjected to such mortification! Ofcourse I wished him to come, but to come of his own accord, and not atmy bidding. How do you suppose I would have felt if he had presentedhimself, and asked me what I wished to say to him? It is an insult youhave offered me. "

"It is not an insult, " said Keswick quietly. "It was a service of--ofaffection. I saw that you were annoyed and troubled by Mr Croft'sfailure to keep his engagement, and what I did was simply--"

"Stop!" said Roberta peremptorily. "I do not wish to talk of it anymore. "

Junius stood before her a moment in silence, and then he said: "Will youtell me if my Aunt Keswick is ill or dead, and why did Mr Brandon gothere?"

"She is neither;" answered Roberta, "and he went there on business. " Andwith this she arose and left the room. 

Peggy, who had been in the hall, now made a bolt down the back stairsinto the basement regions, where was situated the kitchen. In thisspacious apartment she found Aunt Judy, the cook, sitting before a largewood fire, and holding in her hand a long iron ladle. There was nothingnear her which she could dip or stir with a ladle, and it was probablyretained during her period of leisure as a symbol of her position andauthority. 

Peggy squatted on her heels, close to Aunt Judy's side, and thusaddressed her: "Aun' Judy, ef I tell you sumfin', soul an' honor, hopeo' glory, you'll neber tell?"

"Hope o' glory, neber!" said Aunt Judy, turning a look of interest onthe girl. 

"Well, den, look h'yar. You know Miss Rob she got two beaux; one isMahs' Junius, an' de udder is de gemman wid de speckle trousers from deNorf. "

"Yes, I know dat, " said Aunt Judy. "Has dey fit?"

"Not yit, but dey wos gwine to, " said Peggy, "but I seed 'em, an' I toredown de road to de gate whar dey wos gittin ready to fight, an' I jes'let dat dar Mister Crof' know wot low-down white trash Miss Rob think hewos, an' den he said ef dat war so 'twant no use fur to come in, an' heturn' roun' de buggy, an' cl'ar'd out. Den Mahs' Junius he come to dehouse, an' dar Miss Rob in de parlor waitin' fur him. I stood jes'outside de doh', so's to be out de way, but Mahs' Junius he kinder backagin de doh', an' shet it. But I clap'd my year ter de crack, an' I heareberything dey said. "

"Wot dey say?" asked Aunt Judy, her mouth open, her eyes dilated, andthe long ladle trembling in her hand. 

"Mahs' Junius he say to Miss Rob that he lub her better'n his own skin, or de clouds in de sky, or de flowers in de fiel' wot perish, an' dat deudder man he done cut an' run, an' would she be Miss Junius all de res'ob der libes foreber an' eber, amen?"

"Dat wos pow'ful movin'!" ejaculated Aunt Judy. "An' wot did Miss Robsay?"

"Miss Rob she say, 'I 'cept your kind offer, sah, wid pleasure. ' An' denI hearn 'em comin', an' I cut down h'yar. "

"Glory! Hallelujah!" exclaimed Aunt Judy, bringing her ladle down uponthe brick hearth. "Now is I ready to die when my time comes, fur Mahs'Junius 'll have dis farm, an' de house, an' de cabins, an' dey won'tgo to no strahnger from de Norf. "

"Amen, " said Peggy. "An' Aun' Judy, dat ar piece ob pie ain't no 'countto nobuddy. "

"You kin hab it, chile, " said Aunt Judy, rising, and taking from a shelfa large piece of cold apple pie, "an' bressed be de foots ob dem wotfotch good tidin's. "

Junius Keswick did not see Miss Roberta again that day, and early in themorning he borrowed one of the Midbranch horses, and rode away. He didnot wish to be at the house when Mr Croft should come; and, besides, hewas very anxious and disturbed in regard to matters at the Keswick farm. Of all places in the world why should Mr Brandon go there?

It was not a very pleasant ride that Junius Keswick took that morning. He had anxieties in regard to what he would meet with at his aunt'shouse, and he had even greater anxieties as to what he was leavingbehind him at Midbranch. It was quite evident that Roberta was angrywith him, and this was enough to sadden the soul of a man who loved heras he loved her, who would have married her at any moment, in spite ofall opposition, all threats, all curses. He was not in the habit oflooking at himself after the manner of Lawrence Croft, but on thisoccasion he could not help a little self-survey. 

Was it a purely disinterested motive he asked himself, that took himover to the Springs to bring back Lawrence Croft? Did he not believe inhis soul that Roberta would never have spoken so freely to him in regardto what the gentleman from the North would probably say to her if shehad not intended to decline that gentleman's offer? And was there not awish in his heart that this matter might be definitely andsatisfactorily settled before Roberta and Mr Croft went to New York forthe winter? He could not deny that this issue to the affair had been inhis mind; and yet he felt that he could conscientiously assure himselfthat if he had thought things would turn out otherwise, he still wouldhave endeavored to make the man perform the duty expected of him byRoberta, in whose service Junius always felt himself to be. But, apparently, he had not benefited himself or anybody else, except, perhaps, Croft, by this service which he had performed. 

It was late in the forenoon when Junius met Mr Brandon returning toMidbranch. In answer to his expressions of surprise, Mr Brandon, whoappeared in an exceptionally good humor, informed Junius of his reasonsfor the visit to the widow Keswick, and what he had found when hearrived there. 

"Your little cousin, " said he, "is a most charming young creature, andon interested motives I should oppose your going to your aunt's house, were it not for the fact that she is married, and, therefore, of nodanger to you. I was very glad to find her there. Her influence overyour aunt will, I think, be highly advantageous, and the first fruit ofit is that the old lady will now welcome you with open arms. Would youbelieve it! she has already announced that she wishes to make a matchbetween you and this little cousin; and in order to do so, has actuallyengaged me to endeavor to bring about a divorce between the young ladyand her absent husband. The widow Keswick has as many cranks andcrotchets in her head as there are seeds in a tobacco pod; but this isthe queerest and the wildest of them all. The couple seem very muchattached to each other, and nothing can be said against the husbandexcept that he did not accompany his wife on her visit to her relatives;and if he knew anything about the old lady I don't blame him a bit. Nowyour course, my dear boy, is perfectly plain. Let your aunt talk as muchas she pleases about this divorce, and your union with the little Annie. It won't hurt anybody, and she must talk herself out in time. In themean time take advantage of the present circumstances to mollify andtone down, so to speak, the good old lady. Make her understand that weare all her friends, and that there is no one in the connection whowould wish to do her the slightest harm. This would be our Christianduty at any time, but it is more particularly our duty now. I would likeyou to bring your cousin over to see us before Roberta goes away. Iinvited her to come, and told her that my niece would first call uponher were it not for the peculiar circumstances. But if the families canbe in a measure brought together--and I shall make it a point to rideover there occasionally--if your aunt can be made to understand thekindly feelings we really have toward her, and can be induced to setaside, even in a slight degree, the violent prejudice she now holdsagainst us, all may yet turn out well. Now go, my boy, and may the bestof success go with you. Don't trouble yourself about sending back thehorse. Keep him as long as you want him. "

Mr Brandon rode on, leaving Junius to pursue his way. "It is verypleasant, " thought the young man, who had said scarcely a word duringthe interview, "to hear Mr Brandon talk about all turning out well, butwhen he gets home he may discover that there is something to be done atMidbranch as well as on the Keswick place. "

Mr Brandon's reflections were very different from those of Junius. Itappeared to him that a reconciliation between the two families, eventhough it should be a partial one, was reasonably to be expected. Thatnewly arrived cousin was an angel. She was bound to do good. A marriagebetween his niece and Junius Keswick was the great object of the oldgentleman's heart, and he longed to see the former engagement betweenthem re-established before Roberta went to New York, where her beautyand attractiveness would expose his cherished plan to many dangers. 

The road he was on led directly north, and it was joined about aquarter of a mile above by the road which ran through the woods to theGreen Sulphur Springs. On this road, at a point nearly opposite to him, he could see, through the foliage, a horseman riding toward the point ofjunction. Something about this person attracted his attention, and MrBrandon took out a pair of eye-glasses and put them on. As soon as hehad obtained another good view of the horseman he recognized him as MrCroft. The old gentleman took off his glasses and returned them to hisvest pocket, and his face began to flush. In his early acquaintance withMr Croft he had not objected to him, because he wished his niece to havecompany, and he had a firm belief in the enduring quality of heraffection for Junius. But, latterly, his ideas in regard to the New Yorkgentleman had changed. He had thought him somewhat too assiduous, andwhen he had unexpectedly returned from the North, Mr Brandon had notbeen at all pleased, although he had been careful not to show hisdispleasure. This condition of things made him feel uneasy, and hadprompted his visit to the widow Keswick. And now that everything lookedso fair and promising, here was that man, whom he had supposed to haveleft this part of the country, riding toward his house. 

Mr Brandon was an easy-going man, but he had a backbone which could begreatly stiffened on occasion. He sat up very straight on his horse, andurged the animal to a better pace, so that he arrived first at the pointwhere the roads met. Here he awaited Mr Croft, who soon rode up. Theold gentleman's greeting was very courteous. 

"You are on the way to my house, I presume, " he said. 

Mr Croft assured him that he was, and hoped that Miss March was quitewell. 

"I have been from home for a little while, " said Mr Brandon, "but Ibelieve my niece enjoys her usual health. I have had a long ride thismorning, " he continued, "and feel a little tired. Would it inconvenienceyou, sir, if we should dismount and sit for a time on yonder log by theroadside? It would rest me, and I would like to have a little talk withyou. "

Lawrence wondered very much that the old gentleman should want to restwhen he was not a mile from his own house, but of course he consented tothe proposed plan, and imitated Mr Brandon by riding under a large tree, and fastening his bridle to a low-hanging bough. The two gentlemenseated themselves on the log, and Mr Brandon, without preface, began hisremarks. 

"May I be pardoned for supposing, sir, " he said, "that your presentvisit to my house is intended for my niece?"

Lawrence looked at him a little earnestly, and replied that it was sointended. 

"Then, sir, I think I have the right to ask, as my niece's presentguardian, and almost indeed as her father, whether or not your visit isconnected in any way with matrimonial overtures toward that lady?"

Not wishing to foolishly and dishonorably deny that such was his purposein going to Midbranch; and feeling that it would be as unwise to declineanswering the question as it would be unmanly to resort to subterfugeabout it, Lawrence replied, that his object in visiting Miss March thatday was to make matrimonial overtures to her. 

"I think, " said Mr Brandon, "that you will be obliged to me if I makeyou acquainted with the present condition of affairs between Miss Marchand Mr Junius Keswick. "

"Has not their engagement been broken off?" interrupted Lawrence. 

"Only conditionally, " answered the old gentleman. "They love each other. They wish to be married. With one exception, all their relatives desirethat they should marry. It would be a union, not only congenial in thehighest degree to the parties concerned, but of the greatest advantageto our family and our family fortunes. There is but a single obstacle tothis most desirable union, and that is the unwarrantable opposition ofone person. But, I am happy to say that this opposition is on the pointof being removed. I consider it to be but a matter of days when my nieceand Mr Keswick, with the full approbation of the relatives on eitherside, will renew in the eyes of the world that engagement which Iconsider still exists in fact. "

"If this is so, " said Lawrence, grinding his heel very deeply into theground, "why was I not told of it?"

"My dear sir!" exclaimed Mr Brandon, "have you ever intimated to me orto any of my family, that your intentions in visiting Midbranch wereother than those of an ordinary friend or acquaintance?"

Lawrence admitted that he had never made any such intimation. 

"Then, sir, " said Mr Brandon, "what reason could we have for mentioningthis subject to you--a subject that would not have been referred to now, had it not been for your admission of your intended object in visitingmy house?"

Lawrence had no answer to make to this, but it was not easy to turn himfrom his purpose. "Excuse me, sir, " he said, "but I think a matter ofthis sort should be left to the lady. If she is not inclined to receivemy addresses she will say so, and there is an end of it. "

The face of Mr Brandon slightly reddened, but his voice remained asquiet and courteous as before. "You do not comprehend, sir, the state ofaffairs, or you would see that a procedure of that kind would beextremely ill-judged at this time. Were it known that at this criticalmoment Miss March was addressed by another suitor, it would seriouslyjeopardize the success of plans which we all have very much at heart. "

Lawrence did not immediately reply to this crafty speech. His teeth werevery firmly set, and he looked steadfastly before him. "I do notunderstand all this, " he said, presently, "nor do I see that there isany need for my understanding it. In fact I have nothing to do with it. I wish to propose marriage to Miss March. If she declines my offer thereis an end of the matter. If she accepts me, then it is quite proper thatall your plans should fall to the ground. She is the principal in theaffair, and it is due to her and due to me that she should make thedecision in this case. "

Mr Brandon had not quite so many teeth as his younger companion, but thevery fair number which remained with him were set together quite asfirmly as those of Lawrence had been. He remarked, speaking verydistinctly but without any show of emotion: "I see, sir, that it isquite impossible for us to think alike on this subject, and there is, therefore, nothing left for me to do but to ask you--and I assure you, sir, that the request is as destitute of any intention of discourtesy asif it were based upon the presence of sickness or familyaffliction--that you will not visit my house at present. "

Lawrence rose to his feet with a good deal of color in his face. "Thatsettles the matter for the present, " he said. "Of course I shall not goto a house which is forbidden to me. I wish you good-morning, sir. " Andhe stalked to his horse, and endeavored to pull down the limb to whichits bridle was attached. 

Mr Brandon followed him. "You must mount before you can unfasten yourbridle, " he said. "And allow me to assure you, sir, that as soon as thislittle affair is settled I shall be very happy indeed to see you againat my house. "

Lawrence having succeeded in loosening his bridle from the tree, madeanswer with a bow, and galloped away to the Green Sulphur Springs. 

Mr Brandon now mounted and rode home. This was the first time in hislife that he had ever forbidden any one to visit Midbranch, and yet hedid not feel that he had been either discourteous or inhospitable. "There are times, " he said to himself, "when a man must stand up for hisown interest; and this is one of the times. "

CHAPTER XI. 

In the little dining-room of the cottage at the Green Sulphur Springssat that evening Lawrence Croft, a perturbed and angry, but a resoluteman. He had been quite a long time coming to the conclusion to proposeto Roberta March, and now that he had made up his mind to do so, even inspite of certain convictions, it naturally aroused his indignation tofind himself suddenly stopped short by such an insignificant person asMr Brandon, a gentleman to whom, in this affair, he had given noconsideration whatever. The fact that the lady wished to see him addedmuch to his annoyance and discomfiture. He had no idea what reason shehad for desiring an interview with him, but, whatever she should say tohim, he intended to follow by a declaration of his sentiments. He hadnot the slightest notion in the world of giving up the prosecution ofhis suit; but, having been requested not to come to Midbranch, what washe to do? He might write to Miss March, but that would not suit him. Ina matter like this he would wish to adapt his words and his manner tothe moods and disposition of the lady, and he could not do this in aletter. When he wooed a woman, he must see her and speak to her. To anyclandestine approach, any whispered conversation beneath her window, hewould give no thought. Having been asked by the master of the house notto go there, he would not go; but he would see her, and tell his love. And, more than that, he would win her. 

That morning, while waiting for the time to approach when it would beproper for him to go to Midbranch, he had been reading in a bound volumeof an old English magazine, which was one of the five books the cottagepossessed, an account of a battle which had interested him very much. The commander of one army had massed his forces along and below thecrest of a line of low hills, the extreme right of his line beingoccupied by a strong force of cavalry. The army opposed to him was muchstronger than his own, and it was not long before the battle began to govery much against him. His positions on the left were carried by thecombined charge of the larger portion of the enemy's forces, and, inspite of a vigorous resistance, his lines were forced back, down thehill, and into the valley. It was quite evident he could make no stand, and was badly beaten. Thereupon, he sent orders to his generals on theleft to retreat, in as good order as possible, across a small river intheir rear. While this movement was in progress, and the enemy wasmaking the greatest efforts to prevent it, the commander put himself atthe head of his cavalry and led them swiftly from the scene of battle. He took them diagonally over the crest of the hill, down the other side, and then charging with this fresh body of horse upon the rear and campof the enemy, he swiftly captured the general-in-chief, his staff, andthe Minister of War, who had come down to see how things were going on. With these important prisoners he dashed away, leaving the acephalousenemy to capture his broken columns if he could. 

This was the kind of thing Lawrence Croft would like to do. For an houror more he puzzled his brains as to how he should make such a cavalrycharge, and at last he came to a determination; he would ask JuniusKeswick to assist him. There was something odd about this plan whichpleased Croft. Keswick was his rival, with the powerful backing of MrBrandon and a whole tribe of relatives, and it might naturally besupposed that he was the last man in the world of whom he would askassistance. But, looking at it from his point of view, Lawrence thoughtthat not only would he be taking no undue advantage of the other inasking him to help him in this matter, but that Keswick ought not andwould not object to it. If Miss March really preferred Croft, Keswickshould feel himself bound in honor to do everything he could to let thetwo settle the affair between themselves. This was drawing the pointvery fine, but Lawrence persuaded himself that if the case were reversedhe would not marry a girl who had not chosen another man, simply becauseshe had had no opportunity of doing so. He had a strong belief thatKeswick was of his way of thinking, and before he went to bed he wrotehis rival a note, asking him to call upon him the following day. 

Early the next morning the note was carried over to Midbranch by amessenger, who returned, saying that Mr Keswick had gone away, and thathis present address was Howlett's in the same county. This piece ofinformation caused Lawrence Croft to open his eyes very wide. A few daysbefore he had received a letter from Mrs Null, written at Howlett's, andnow Keswick had gone there. He had been very much surprised when hefound that the cashier had so successfully carried on the search forKeswick as to come into the very county in Virginia where he was; and heintended to write to her that he had no further occasion for herservices; but he had not done so, and here were the pursuer and thepursued in the same town, or village, or whatever Howlett's was. He gaveMrs Null credit for being one of the best detectives he had ever heardof; for, apparently, she had not only been able to successfully trackthe man she was in search of, but to find out where he was going, andhad reached the place in question before he did. But he also berated hersoundly in his mind for her over-officiousness. He had not wished her toswoop down upon the man, but only to inform him of his whereabouts. Thenext thing that would probably happen would be the appearance of MrsNull at the Green Sulphur Springs, holding Keswick by the collar. Hedeeply regretted that he had ever intrusted this young woman with theinvestigation, not because he had since met Keswick himself, but forthe reason that she was entirely too energetic and imprudent. If Keswickshould find out from her that she had been in search of him, and why, itmight bring about a very unpleasant state of affairs. 

Croft saw now, quite plainly, what he must do. He must go to Howlett'sas quickly as possible. Perhaps Keswick and the cashier had not yet met, and, in that case, all he would have to do would be to remunerate theyoung woman and her husband--for she had informed him that she intendedto combine this business with a wedding tour--and send them offimmediately. He could then have his conference with Keswick there aswell as at the Springs. If any mischief had already been done, he didnot know what course he might have to pursue, but it was highlynecessary for him to be on the spot as soon as possible. He greatlydisliked to leave the neighborhood of Roberta March, but his absencewould only be temporary. 

After an early dinner, he mounted the horse which he had hired from hishost of the Springs, and, with a valise strapped behind him, set out forHowlett's. He had made careful inquiries in regard to the road, andafter a ride somewhat tiresome to a man not used to such protractedhorseback exercise, arrived at his destination about sundown. When hereached the scattered houses which formed, as he supposed, the outskirtsof the village, for such he had been told it was, he rode on, but soonfound that he had left Howlett's behind him, and that those supposedoutskirts were the place itself. Hewlett's was nothing, in fact, but acollection of eight or ten houses quite widely separated from eachother, and the only one of them which exhibited any public characterwhatever, was the store, a large frame building standing a little backfrom the road. Turning his horse, Lawrence rode up to the store andinquired if there was any house in the neighborhood where he could getlodging for the night. 

The storekeeper, who came out to him, was a very little man whoseappearance recalled to Croft the fact that he had noticed, in this partof the State, a great many men who were extremely tall, and a great manywho were extremely small, which peculiarity, he thought, might assist aphysiologist in discovering the different effects of hot bread upondifferent organizations. He was quite as cordial, however, as thebiggest, burliest, and jolliest host who ever welcomed a guest to hisinn, as he informed Mr Croft that there was no house in the villagewhich made a business of entertaining strangers, but if he chose to stopwith him he would keep him and his horse for the night, and do what hecould to make him comfortable. 

Lawrence ate supper that night with the storekeeper, his wife, and fiveof his children; but as he was very hungry, and the meal was a plentifulone, he enjoyed the experience. 

"I suppose you're goin' on to Westerville in the mornin'?" said thelittle host. 

"No, " replied Croft, "I am not going any farther than this place. Do youknow if a gentleman named Keswick arrived here recently?"

"Why, yaas, " said the man, "if you mean Junius Keswick. "

"Certainly he did, " said Mrs Storekeeper. "He rode through hereyesterday, and he stopped at the store to see if we had any of thatLynchburg tobacco he used to smoke when he lived here. He's gone on tohis aunt's. "

"Where is that?" asked Croft. 

"It's about two miles out on the Westerville road, " said the little man. "If I'd knowed you wanted to see him, I'd 'a told you to keep right on, and you could 'a stopped with Mrs Keswick over night. "

Lawrence wished to ask some questions about Mrs Null, but he was afraidto do so lest he might excite suspicions by connecting her with Keswick. If the latter had gone two miles out of town, perhaps she had not yetseen him. 

The room in which Lawrence slept that night was to him a very odd one. It was a long apartment, at one end of which was a clean, comfortablebed, a couple of chairs, and a table on which was a basin and pitcher. At the other end were piles of new-looking boxes, containing groceriesof various kinds, rolls of cotton cloth and other dry goods, and, whatattracted his attention more than anything else, a vast number of brighttin cans, bearing on their sides brilliant pictures of tomatoes, peaches, green corn, and other preservable eatables. These wereevidently the reserved stores of the establishment, and they were sodifferent from the bedroom decorations to which he was accustomed, thatit quite pleased Lawrence to think that with all his experience in lifehe was now lodged in a manner entirely novel to him. As he lay awakelooking at the moonlight glittering on the sides of the multitude ofcans, the thought came into his mind that this had probably been theroom of the Nulls when they were here. 

"As this is the only house in the place where travellers areentertained, " he said to himself, "of course they must have come to it. And as they are not here now, it is quite plain that they must have goneaway. I am very glad of it, especially if they left before Keswickarrived, for their departure probably prevented an awkward situation. But I shall ask the storekeeper no questions about these people. Thereis no better way of giving inquisitive folk the _entrée_ to your affairsthan by asking questions. Of course there was no reason why they shouldstay here after they had successfully traced Keswick to this part of thecountry; and every reason, if they wanted to enjoy themselves, why theyshould go away. But I can't help being sorry that I did not meet theyoung woman, and have an opportunity of paying her for her trouble, andgiving her a few words of advice in regard to her action, or, rather, non-action in this matter. She has a fine head for business, but Ishould like to feel certain that she understands that her business withme is over. "

And he turned his eyes from the glittering cans, and slept. 

The next morning, Lawrence Croft rode on to Mrs Keswick's house, andwhen he reached the second, or inner gate, he saw, on the other side ofit, an elderly female, wearing a purple sun-bonnet and carrying a purpleumbrella. There was something very eccentric about the garb of thiselderly personage, and many an inexperienced city man would have takenher for a retired nurse, or some other domestic retainer of the family, but there was a steadfastness in her gaze, and a fire in her eye, whichindicated to Lawrence that she was one much more accustomed to giveorders than to take them. He raised his hat very politely, and asked ifMr Keswick was to be found there. 

If the commander of the army, about whom Mr Croft had recently beenreading, had beheld in the earlier stages of the battle a strong, friendly force advancing to his aid, he would not have been moredelighted than Lawrence would have been had he known what a powerfulally to his cause stood beneath that purple sun-bonnet. 

"Do you mean Junius Keswick?" said the old lady. 

"Yes, madam, " answered Croft. 

"He is here, and you will find him at the house. "

The gate was partly open, and Lawrence rode in. The old lady steppedaside to let him pass. 

"Do you want to see him on business?" she said. "How did you know he washere?"

"I inquired at Howlett's, madam. "

Mrs Keswick would have liked to ask some further questions, but therewas something about Lawrence's appearance that deterred her. 

"You can tie your horse under that tree over there, " she said, pointingto a spot more trampled by hoofs than the old lady wished any otherportion of her house-yard to be. 

When Lawrence had tied his bridle to a hook suspended by a strap fromone of the lower branches of the indicated tree, he advanced to thehouse; and a very much astonished man was he to see, sitting side byside on the porch, Junius Keswick and Mr Candy's cashier. They wereseated in the shade of a mass of honeysuckle vines, and were so busilyengaged in conversation that they had not perceived his approach. Evennow Lawrence had time to look at them for a few moments before theyturned their eyes upon him. 

Equally astonished were the two people on the porch, who now arose totheir feet. Junius Keswick naturally wondered very much why Mr Croftshould come to see him here; and as for the young lady, she was almostas much terrified as surprised. Had this man come down from New York toswoop upon her cousin? Had it been possible that she could have givenhim any idea of the whereabouts of Junius? In her last note to him shehad been very careful to promise information, but not to give any, hoping thus to gain time to get an insight into the matter, and to keepher cousin out of danger, if, indeed, any danger threatened. But herethe pursuer had found Junius in less than a day after she had first methim herself. But when she saw Junius advance and shake hands in a veryfriendly way with Mr Croft, her terror began to decrease, although hersurprise continued at the same high-water mark, and Keswick foundhimself in a flood of the same emotion when Croft very politely salutedhis cousin by name, which salutation was returned in a manner whichindicated that the parties were acquainted. 

At first Croft had been prompted to ignore all knowledge of the cashier, and meet her as a stranger, but his better sense prevented this, for howcould he know what she had been saying about him. 

"I was about to introduce you to my cousin, " said Keswick, "but I seethat you already know each other. "

"I have had the pleasure of meeting Mrs Null in New York, " saidLawrence, to whom the word cousin gave what might be called a moreimportant surprise than anything with which this three-sided interviewhad yet furnished its participants. He gave a quick glance at the lady, and discovered her very steadfastly gazing at him. "I hope, " he said, "that you and your husband have had a very pleasant trip. "

"Mr Null did not come with me, " she quietly replied. 

Lawrence Croft was a man to whom it gave pleasure to deal withproblematic situations, unexpected developments, and the like; but thiswas too much of a conundrum for him. That the man, whose address he hademployed this girl to find out, should prove to be her cousin, and thatshe should start on her bridal trip without her husband, were points onwhich his reason had no power to work. One thing, however, he quicklydetermined upon. He would have an interview with Madam Cashier, and haveher explain these mysteries. She was, virtually, his agent, and had noright to conceal from him what she had been doing, and why she had doneit. 

It was necessary, however, that he should waste no time in thoughts ofthis kind, but should immediately state to Mr Keswick the reason of hisvisit; for it could not be supposed he had called in a merely socialway. "I wish to speak to you, " he said, "on a little matter ofbusiness. "

At these words Mrs Null excused herself, and went into the house. Hermind was troubled as she wondered what the business was which had madethis New York gentleman so extraordinarily desirous to find her cousin. Was it anything that would injure Junius? She looked back as she enteredthe door, but the object of her solicitude was sitting with a face socalm and composed that it showed very plainly he did not expect anycommunication which would be harmful to him. 

"It is a satisfaction, " thought Mr Croft, "a very great satisfactionthat I can enter upon the object of my visit knowing that my affairs andmy actions have not been discussed by this gentleman and Mrs Null. "

CHAPTER XII. 

Old Mrs Keswick would willingly have followed the strange gentleman tothe house in order to know the object of his visit, but as he had cometo see Junius she refrained, for she knew her nephew would not like anyappearance of curiosity on her part. Her reception of Junius had beenvery different indeed from that she had previously accorded him when shedeclined to be found under the same roof with him. Now he was here undervery different auspices, and for him the very plumpest poultry wasslain, and everything was done to make him comfortable and willing tostay and become acquainted with his cousin, Mrs Null. A match betweenthese two young people was the present object of the old lady'sexistence, and she set about making it with as much determination andconfidence as if there had been no such person as Mr Null. Of thisindividual she had the most contemptible opinion. She had never askedmany questions about him, because, in her intercourse with her niece, she wished, as far as possible, to ignore him. Having mentally picturedhim in various mean conditions of life, she had finally settled it inher mind that he was an agent for some patent fertilizer; a man of thiskind being a very obnoxious person to her. This avocation, however, constituted in the old lady's mind no excusable reason for hisprotracted absence; and if ever a wife was deserted, she believed thather niece Annie was such a wife. 

"If he should stay away much longer, " she said to herself, "we shallhave no more trouble in getting a divorce than to have his funeralsermon preached. And if there is any talk of his coming here, or of hergoing to him, I'll put my foot down on that sort of thing, if I've afoot left to do it with. "

When she had first perceived the approach of Mr Croft, a fear had seizedher that this might be the recreant husband, but the gentlemanlyappearance of the stranger soon dispelled this idea from her prejudicedmind. Apart from the fact that she had no business at the house with hernephew's visitor, she had positive business in the garden with old UncleIsham, and there she repaired. There was some work to be done in regardto a flower pit, in which some of her choicest plants were to bedomiciled during the winter, and this she wished personally to oversee. Although the autumn was well advanced, the day was somewhat warm; and asthe pair, whom Mr Croft had seen on the porch, had been glad to shelterthemselves in the shade of the honeysuckle vines, so Mrs Keswick seatedherself on a little bench behind a large arbor, still covered by heavyvines, which stood on the boundary line between the garden and the frontyard, and opened on the latter. This bench, which was always shady inthe morning, she had had placed there that she might comfortably directthe labors of old Isham, the boy Plez, or whoever, for the time being, happened to be her gardener. 

Mr Croft did not immediately begin the statement of the business whichhad brought him to see Junius Keswick. Several windows of the houseopened on the porch, and he did not wish what he had to say to be heardby any one except the person he was addressing. "I desire to talk to youon some private matters, " he said. "Could we not walk a little away fromthe house?"

"Certainly, " said Junius, rising. "We will step over to that arbor bythe garden. We shall be quite comfortable and secluded there. This isthe place, " said Junius, as they seated themselves in the arbor, "where, when a boy, I used to come to smoke. My aunt did not allow thisdiversion, but I managed to do a good deal of puffing before I was foundout. "

"Then you used to live here?" asked Croft. 

"Oh, yes, " said Keswick, "my parents died when I was quite a littlefellow, and my aunt had charge of me until I had grown up. "

"Was that your aunt whom I met at the gate? There was something abouther bearing and general appearance which greatly interested me. "

"She is a most estimable lady, " returned Junius. And not wishing furtherto discuss his relative, he added: "And now, what is it, sir, that Ican have the pleasure of doing for you?"

"The matter regards Miss March, " said Croft. 

"I presumed so, " remarked the other. "I will state it as briefly aspossible, " continued Croft. "In consequence of your visit to me at thethe Springs, I set out, the day before yesterday, to make anotherattempt to call on Miss March, the first one having been frustrated, asyou may remember, by the information we received at the gate in regardto Miss March's indisposition, which, as I have heard nothing more ofit, I hope was of no importance. "

"Of none whatever, " said Junius. 

"When I was within a mile or so of Midbranch, " continued Croft, "I metMr Brandon, who requested me not to come to his house, and, in fact, tocease my visits altogether. "

"What!" cried Keswick, very much surprised. "That is not at all like MrBrandon. What reason could he have for treating you in such a manner?"

"The very best in the world, " said Croft. "Having, as the guardian ofhis niece, asked me the object of my visit to Miss March, and, havingbeen informed by me that it was my intention to propose matrimony to thelady, he requested that I would not visit at his house. " "On whatground did he base his objection to your visit?" asked Keswick. 

"He made no objection to me; he simply stated that he did not desire meto come, because he wished his niece to marry you. "

"Quite plainly spoken, " remarked Keswick. 

"Nothing could be more so, " replied Croft. "I could not expect any oneto be franker with me than he was. He went on to inform me that a matchbetween the lady and yourself was greatly desired by the whole familyconnection, with a single exception, which, however, he did not name, and, while he gave me to understand that he had no reason to fear that, so far as the lady was concerned, my proposal would interfere with yourprospects, still, were it known that there was another aspirant in thefield, a very undesirable state of things might ensue. What this stateof affairs was he did not state, but I presume it had something to dowith the exceptional opposition to which he referred. "

"And what did you say to all that?" asked Junius. 

"I said very little. When a man asks me not to come to his house, Idon't go. But, nevertheless, I have fully made up my mind to propose toMiss March as soon as I can get an opportunity. I have nothing to dowith family arrangements or family opposition. You have told me thatyou are not engaged to her, and I am going to try to be engaged to her. She is the one to decide this matter. And now I have called upon you, MrKeswick, to see if there is any way in which you can assist me inobtaining an interview with Miss March. "

"Don't you think, " said Junius, "that it is rather cool in you to ask meto assist you in this matter?"

"Not at all, " replied the other. "If it had not been for you I shouldnow be in New York, with no thought of present proposals of marriage. But you came to me, and insisted that I should see the lady. " "That wassimply because she had expressed a strong desire to see you. "

"Very good, " said Lawrence. "I tried to go to her, as you know, and wasprevented. Now all I ask of you is to help me to do what you so stronglyurged me to do. There is nothing particularly cool in that, I think. "

Keswick did not immediately reply. "I am not sure, " he said, "that MissMarch still wishes to see you. "

"That may be, " replied Croft, speaking a little warmly. "None of usexactly know what she thinks or wishes. But I want to find out what shethinks about me by distinctly asking her. And I should suppose you wouldconsider it to your advantage, as well as mine, that I should do so. ""I have my own opinion on that point, " said Keswick, "which it is notnecessary to discuss at present. If I were to assist you to an interviewwith Miss March it would be on the lady's account, not on yours or mine. But apart from the fact that I do not know if she now desires aninterview, I would not do anything that would offend or annoy MrBrandon. "

"I don't ask that of you, " said Croft, "but couldn't you use yourinfluence with him to give me a fair chance with the lady? That is all Iask, and, whether she accepts me or rejects me, I am sure everybodyought to be satisfied. "

Keswick smiled. "You don't leave any margin for sentiment, " he said, "but I suppose it is just as well to deal with this matter in apractical way. I do not think, however, that any influence I can exerton Mr Brandon would induce him to allow you to address his niece if heis opposed to it, and I am sure he would have a very strange opinion ofme if I attempted such a thing. At present I do not see that I can helpyou at all, but I will think over the matter, and we will talk of itagain. "

"Thank you, " said Croft, rising. "And when shall I call upon you to hearyour decision?"

It was rather difficult for Junius Keswick to answer a question likethis on the spur of the moment. He arose and walked with Croft out ofthe arbor. His first impulse, as a Virginia gentleman, was to invitehis visitor to stay at the house until the matter should be settled, buthe did not know what extraordinary freak on the part of his aunt mightbe caused by such an invitation. But before he had decided what to say, they were met by Mrs Keswick coming from the garden. Junius thereuponpresented Mr Croft, who was welcomed by the old lady with extended handand exceeding cordiality. 

"I am very glad, " she said, "to meet a friend of my nephew. But whereare you going, Sir? Certainly not toward your horse. You must stay anddine with us. "

Lawrence hesitated. He had no claims on the hospitality of these people, but he wished very much to have an opportunity to speak to Mrs Null. "Thank you, " he said, "but I am staying down here at the village, and itis but a short ride. " "Staying at Hewlett's?" exclaimed Mrs Keswick. "Atwhich hotel, may I ask?"

Lawrence laughed. "I am stopping with the storekeeper, " he said. 

"That settles it!" said the old lady, giving her umbrella a jab into theground. "Tom Peckett's accommodations may be good enough for pedlers andtravelling agents, but they are not fit for gentlemen, especially one ofmy nephew's friends. You must stay with us, sir, as long as you are inthis neighborhood. I insist upon it. " Junius was very much astonishedat his aunt's speech and manner. The old lady was not at allinhospitable; so far was it otherwise the case, that, rather thandeprive an objectionable visitor of the shelter of her roof, she wouldgo from under it herself; but he had never known her to "gush" in thismanner upon a stranger. He now felt at liberty, however, to obey his ownimpulses, and urged Mr Croft to stay with them. 

"You are very kind, indeed, " said Lawrence, "and I shall be glad todefer for the present my return to my 'hotel. ' This will give me theadditional pleasure of renewing my acquaintance with Mrs Null. "

"What!" exclaimed Mrs Keswick, "do you know her, too? And to think ofyou stopping at Peckett's! Your home, sir, while you stay in theseparts, is here. "

Before the three reached the house, Mrs Keswick had inquired how long MrCroft had known her niece; and had discovered, much to herdisappointment, that he had never met Mr Null. Shortly after the arrivalat the house of the gentleman on horseback little Plez ran into thekitchen, where Letty was engaged in preparing vegetables for dinner. 

"Who d'ye think is done come?" he exclaimed. "Miss Annie's husband! Jes'rid up to de house. "

"Dat so?" cried Letty, dropping into her lap the knife and the potatoshe was peeling. "Well, truly, when things does happen in dis worl' deycomes all in a lump. None ob de fam'ly been nigh de house for ebber solong; an' den, 'long comes Mahs' Junius hisse'f, an' Miss Annie dat'sbeen away sence she was a chile, an' ole Mr Brandon, wot Uncle Isham sayain't been h'yar fur years and years, an' now Miss Annie's husband comeskitin' up! An' dar's ole Aun' Patsy wot says dat if dat gemman ebbercome h'yar she want to know it fus' thing. She was dreffle p'inted aboutdat. An' now, look h'yar, you Plez, jus' you cut round to your Aun'Patsy's, an' tell her Miss Annie's husband's done come. "

"Whar ole Miss?" inquired Plez. "She 'sleep?"

"No, she mighty wide awake, " said Letty. "But you take dem knives an'dat board an' brick, an' run down to de branch to clean 'em. An', whenyou gits dar, you jus' slip along, 'hind de bushes, till you's got terde cohn fiel', an' den you cut 'cross dar to Aun' Patsy's. An' don' youstop no time dar, fur if ole Miss finds you's done gone, she'll chop youup wid dem knives. "

Plez was quite ready for a reckless dash of this kind, and in less thantwenty minutes old Patsy was informed that Mr Null had arrived. The oldwoman was much affected by the information. She was uneasy and restless, and talked a good deal to herself, occasionally throwing out a moan or alament in the direction of her "son Tom's yaller boy Bob's chile. " Thecrazy quilt, which was not yet finished, though several pieces had beenadded since we last saw it, was laid aside; and by the help of the abovementioned great granddaughter the old hair trunk was hauled out andopened. Over this hoard of treasures, Aunt Patsy spent nearly two hours, slowly taking up the various articles it contained, turning them over, mumbling over them, and mentally referring many of them to periods whichhad become historic. At length she pulled out from one of the corners ofthe trunk a pair of very little blue morocco shoes tied together bytheir strings. These she took into her lap, and, shortly afterward, hadthe trunk locked, and pushed back into its place. The shoes, having beenthoroughly examined through her great iron-bound spectacles, were thrustunder the mattress of her bed. 

That evening, Uncle Isham stepped in to see the old woman, who wascounteracting the effects of the cool evening air by sitting as close aspossible to the remains of the fire which had cooked the supper. She wasvery glad to see him. She wanted somebody to whom she could unburden hermind. "Wot you got to say 'bout Miss Annie's husband, " she asked, "wotdone come to-day?"

"Was dat him?" exclaimed the old man. "Nobody tole me dat. "

This was true, for the good-natured Letty, having discovered themistake that had been made, had concluded to say nothing about it and tokeep away from Aunt Patsy's for a few days, until the matter should beforgotten. 

"Well, I spec Miss Annie's mighty glad to git him back agin, " continuedthe old man, after a moment's reflection. "He's right much of a nicelookin' gemman. I seed him this ebenin' a ridin' wid Mahs' Junius. "

"P'raps Miss Annie is glad, " said the ole woman, "coz she don' know. ButI ain't. "

"Wot's de reason fur dat?" inquired Isham. 

"It's a pow'ful dreffle thing dat Miss Annie's husband's done come downh'yar. He don' know ole miss. "

"Wot's de matter wid ole miss?" asked Isham, in a quick tone. 

"She done talk to me 'bout him, " said the old woman. "She done tole mejus' wot she think of him. She hate him from he heel up. I dunno wotshe'll do to him now she got him. Mighty great pity fur pore Miss Anniedat he ever come h'yar. "

"Ole miss ain't gwine ter do nuffin' to him, " said Isham, in a gruff andtroubled tone. 

"Don' you b'lieve dat, " said Aunt Patsy. "When ole miss don' like apusson, dat pusson had better look out. But I ain't gwine to be sottin'h'yar an' see mis'ry comin' to Miss Annie. "

"Wot you gwine to do?" asked Isham. 

"I's gwine ter speak my min' to ole miss. I's gwine to tell her not todo no kunjerin' to Miss Annie's husban'. She gwine to hurt dat littlegal more'n she hurt anybody else. "

Old Isham sat looking into the fire with a very worried and anxiousexpression on his face. He was intensely loyal to his mistress, aware ashe was of her short-comings, or rather her long-goings. Although he felta good deal of fear that there might be some truth in Aunt Patsy'swords, he was very sure that if she took it upon herself to give warningor reproof to old Mrs Keswick, a storm would ensue; and where thelightning would strike he did not know. "You better look out, Aun'Patsy, " he said. "You an' ole miss been mighty good fren's fur a pow'fullong time, an' now don' you go gittin' yourse'f in no fraction wid her, jus' as you' bout to die. "

"Ain't gwine to die, " said the old woman, "till I done tole her wot's onmy min'. "

"Aun' Patsy, " said Uncle Isham, after gazing silently in the fire for aminute or two, "dar was a brudder wot come up from 'Melia County to delas' big preachin', an' he tole in his sarment a par'ble wot I b'lievewill 'ply fus rate to dis 'casion. I's gwine to tell you dat. "

"Go 'long wid it, " said Aunt Patsy. 

"Well, den, " said Isham, "dar was once a cullud angel wot went up to degate ob heaben to git in. He didn't know nuffin' 'bout de ways ob deplace, bein' a strahnger, an' when he see all de white angels a crowdin'in at de gate where Sent Peter was a settin', he sorter looked round tosee if dar warn't no gate wot he might go in at. Den ole Sent Peter hesings out: 'Look h'yar, uncle, whar you gwine? Dar ain't no culludgal'ry in dis 'stablishment. You's got to come in dis same gate wid deudder folks. ' So de cullud angel he come up to de gate, but he kin' ahung back till de udders had got in. Jus' den 'long comes a white angelon hossback, wot was in a dreffle hurry to git in to de gate. De culludangel, he mighty p'lite, an' he went up an' tuk de hoss, an' when dewhite angel had got down an' gone in, he went roun' lookin' fur a treeto hitch him to. But when he went back agin to de gate, Sent Peter hadjus' shet it, and was lockin' it up wid a big padlock. He jus' looksober de gate at de cullud angel an' he says: 'No 'mittance ahfter sixo'clock. ' An' den he go in to his supper. "

"An' wot dat cullud angel do den?" asked Eliza, who had been listeningbreathlessly to this narrative. 

"Dunno, " said Isham, "but I reckin de debbil come 'long in de night an'tuk him off. Dar's a lesson in dis h'yar par'ble wot 'ud do you good toclap to your heart, Aun' Patsy. Don' you be gwine roun' tryin' to helpudder people jus' as you is all ready to go inter de gate ob heaben. Efyou try any ob dat dar foolishness, de fus' thing you know you'll finddat gate shet. "

"Is dat your 'Melia County par'ble?" asked the old woman. 

"Dat's it, " answered Isham. 

"Reckon dat country's better fur 'bacca dan fur par'bles, " grunted AuntPatsy. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Lawrence Croft had no idea of leaving the neighborhood of Howlett'suntil Keswick had made up his mind what he was going to do, and until hehad had a private talk with Mrs Null; and, as it was quite evident thatthe family would be offended if a visitor to them should lodge atPeckett's store, he accepted the invitation to spend the night at theKeswick house; and in the afternoon Junius rode with him to Howlett's, where he got his valise, and paid his account. 

But no opportunity occurred that day for a _tête-a-tête_ with Mrs Null. Keswick was with him nearly all the afternoon; and in the evening thefamily sat together in the parlor, where the conversation was a generalone, occasionally very much brightened by some of the caustic remarks ofthe old lady in regard to particular men and women, as well as societyat large. Of course he had many opportunities of judging, to the best ofhis capacity, of certain phases of character appertaining to Mr Candy'scashier; and, among other things, he came to the conclusion thatprobably she was a young woman who would get up early in the morning, and he, therefore, determined to do that thing himself, and see if hecould not have a talk with her before the rest of the family were astir. 

Early rising was not one of Croft's accustomed habits, but the nextmorning he arose a good hour before breakfast time. He found the lowerpart of the house quite deserted, and when he went out on the porch hewas glad to button up his coat, for the morning air was very cool. Whilewalking up and down with his hands in his pockets, and looking in at thefront door every time he passed it, in hopes that he might see Mrs Nullcoming down the stairs, he was greeted with a cheery "good morning, " bya voice in the front yard. Turning hastily, he beheld Mrs Keswick, wearing her purple sun-bonnet, but without her umbrella. 

"Glad you like to be up betimes, sir, " said she. "That's my way, and Ifind it pays. Nobody works as well, and I don't believe the plants andstock grow as well, while we are asleep. "

Lawrence replied that in the city he did not get up so early, but thatthe morning air in the country was very fine. 

"And pretty sharp, too, " said Mrs Keswick. "Come down here in thesunshine, and you will find it pleasanter. Step back a little this way, sir, " she said, when Lawrence had joined her, "and give me your opinionof that locust tree by the corner of the porch. I am thinking of havingit cut down. Locusts are very apt to get diseased inside, and break off, and I am afraid that one will blow over some day and fall on the house. "Lawrence said he thought it looked like a very good tree, and it wouldbe a pity to lose the shade it made. 

"I might plant one of another sort, " said the old lady, "but trees growtoo slow for old people, though plenty fast enough for young ones. Ireckon I'll let it stand awhile yet. You were talking last night ofMidbranch, sir. There used to be fine trees there, though it's manyyears since I've seen them. Have you been long acquainted with thefamily there?"

Lawrence replied that he had known Miss March a good while, having mether in New York. 

"She is said to be a right smart young lady, " said Mrs Keswick, "welleducated, and has travelled in Europe. I am told that she is not only aregular town lady, but that she makes a first-rate house-keeper when sheis down here in the country. "

Lawrence replied that he had no doubt that all this was very true. 

"I have never seen her, " continued the old lady, "for there has not beenmuch communication between the two families of late years, although theyused to be intimate enough. But my nephew and niece have been away agreat deal, and old people can't be expected to do much in the way ofvisiting. But I have a notion, " she said, after gazing a few moments ina reflective way at the corner of the house, "that it would be well nowto be a little more sociable again. My niece has no company here of herown sex, except me, and I think it would do her good to know a younglady like Miss March. Mr Brandon has asked me to let Annie come there, but I think it would be a great deal better for his niece to visit us. Mrs Null is the latest comer. "

Lawrence, speaking much more earnestly than when discussing the locusttree, replied that he thought this would be quite proper. 

"I think I may invite her to come here next week, " said Mrs Keswick, still meditatively and without apparent regard to the presence of Croft, "probably on Friday, and ask her to spend a week. And, by the way, sir, " she said, turning to her companion, "if you are still in this partof the country I would be glad to have you ride over and stay a day ortwo while Miss March is here. I will have a little party of young folksin honor of Mrs Null. I have done nothing of the kind for her, so far. "

Lawrence said he had no doubt that he would stay at the Green Sulphur aweek or two longer, and that he would be most happy to accept MrsKeswick's kind invitation. 

They then moved toward the house, but, suddenly stopping, as if she hadjust thought of something, Mrs Keswick remarked: "I shall be obliged toyou, sir, if you will not say anything about this little plan of mine, just now. I have not spoken of it to any one, having scarcely made up mymind to it, and I suppose I should not have mentioned it to you if wehad not been talking about Midbranch. There is nothing I hate so much asto have people hear I am going to give them an invitation, or that I amgoing to do anything, in fact, before I have fully made up my mind aboutit. "

Lawrence assured her that he would say nothing on the subject, and shepromised to send him a note to the Green Sulphur, in case she finallydetermined on having the little company at her house. 

"Now, " triumphantly thought Croft, "it matters not what Keswick decidesto do, for I don't need his assistance. An elderly angel in a purplesun-bonnet has come to my aid. She is about to do ever so much more forme than I could expect of him, and I prefer her assistance to that of myrival. Altogether it is the most unexpected piece of good luck. "

After breakfast there came to Lawrence the opportunity of a privateconference with Mrs Null. He was standing alone on the porch when shecame out of the door with her hat on and a basket in her hand, and saidshe was going to see a very old colored woman who lived in theneighborhood, who was considered a very interesting personage; andperhaps he would like to go there with her. Nothing could suit Croftbetter than this, and off they started. 

As soon as they were outside the yard gate the lady remarked: "I havebeen trying hard to give you a chance to talk to me when the others werenot by. I knew you must be perfectly wild to ask me what this all meant;why I never told you that Mr Keswick was my cousin, and the rest of it. ""I can't say, " said Lawrence, "that I am absolutely untamed andferocious in regard to the matter, but I do really wish very much thatyou would give me some explanation of your very odd doings. In fact, that is the only thing that now keeps me here. "

"I thought so, " said Mrs Null. "As I supposed you had got through withyour business with Junius, I did not wish to detain you here any longerthan was necessary. "

"Thank you, " said Lawrence. 

"You are welcome, " she said. "And when I saw you standing on the porchby yourself, the idea of being generous to old Aunt Patsy came into mymind. And here we are. Now, what do you want to know first?"

"Well, " said Mr Croft, "I would like very much to know how a young ladylike you came to be Mr Candy's cashier. "

"I supposed you would want to know that, " she said. "It's a dreadfullylong story, and as it is a strictly family matter I had almost made upmy mind last night that I ought not to tell it to you at all, but as Idon't know how much you are mixed up with the family, I afterwardthought it best, for my own sake, to explain the matter to you. So Iwill give you the principal points. My mother was a sister of MrsKeswick, and Junius' mother was another sister. Both his parents diedwhen he was a boy, and Aunt Keswick brought him up. My mother died herewhen I was quite small, and I stayed until I was eight years old. AuntKeswick and my father were not very good friends, and when she came tolook upon me as entirely her own child, and wished to deprive him of allrights and privileges as a parent, he resented it very much, and, atlast, took me away. I don't remember exactly how this was done, but Iknow there was a tremendous quarrel, and my father and aunt never metagain. 

"He took me to New York; and there we lived very happily until about twoyears ago, when my father died. He was a lawyer by profession, but atthat time held a salaried position in a railroad company, and when hedied, of course our income ceased. The money that was left did not lastvery long, and then I had to decide what I was to do. It would have beennatural for me to go to my only relatives, Aunt Keswick and Junius. Butmy father had been so opposed to my aunt having anything to do with methat I could not bear to go to her. He had really been so much afraidthat she would try to win me away from him, or in some way gainpossession of me, that he would not even let her know our address, andnever answered the few letters from her which reached him, and which hetold me were nothing but demands that her sister's child should be givenback to her. Junius had written to me, how many times I do not know, buttwo letters had come to me that were very good and affectionate, quitedifferent from my aunt's, but even these my father would not let meanswer; it would be all the same thing, he said, as if I openedcommunication with my Aunt Keswick. Therefore, out of respect to myfather, and also in accordance with my own wishes, I gave up all idea ofcoming down here, and went to work to support myself. I tried severalthings, and, at last, through a friend of my father, who was a regularcustomer of Mr Candy, I got the position of cashier in the InformationShop. It was an awfully queer place, but the work was very easy, and Isoon got used to it. Then you came making inquiries for an address. Atfirst I did not know that the person you wanted was Junius Keswick andmy cousin, but after I began to look into the matter I found that itmust be he who you were after. Then I became very much troubled, for Iliked Junius, who was the only one of my blood whom I had any reason tocare for; and when one sees a person setting a detective--for it is allthe same thing--upon the track of another person, one is very apt tothink that some harm is intended to the person that is being looked up. I did not know what business Junius was in, nor what his condition was, but even if he had been doing wrong, I did not wish you to find himuntil I had first seen him, and then, if I found you could do him anyharm, I would warn him to keep out of your way. "

"Do you think that was fair treatment of me?" asked Croft. 

"You were nothing to me, and Junius was a great deal, " she answered. "And yet I think I was fair enough. The only money you paid was what MrCandy charged; and when I spoke of receiving money for my services whenthe affair was finished I only did it that it might all be more businesslike, and that you should not drop me and set somebody else lookingafter Junius. That was the great thing I was afraid of, so I did all Icould to make you satisfied with me. "

"I don't see how your conscience could allow you to do all this, " saidCroft. 

"My conscience was very much pleased with me, " was the answer. "What Idid was a stratagem, and perfectly fair too. If I had found that it wasright for you to see Junius, I would have done everything I could tohelp you communicate with him. But when I did at last see him, down youswooped upon us before I had an opportunity of saying a word about you. "

"Your marriage was a very fortunate thing for you, " said Mr Croft, "forif it had not been for that I should never have allowed you to go aboutthe country looking up a gentleman in my behalf. But how did you getover your repugnance to your aunt?"

"I didn't get over it, " she said, "I conquered it, for I found that thiswas the most likely place to meet Junius. And Aunt Keswick has certainlytreated me in the kindest manner, although she is very angry about MrNull. But when I first came and she did not know who I was, she behavedin the most extraordinary manner. "

"What did she do?" asked Croft. 

"Never you mind, " she answered, with a little laugh. "You can't expectto know all the family affairs. "

They had now arrived at Aunt Patsy's cabin, and Mrs Null entered, followed at a little distance by Croft. The old woman had seen them asthey were walking along the road, and her little black eyes sparkledwith peculiar animation behind her great spectacles. Her granddaughterhappened not to be at home, but Aunt Patsy got up, and with her apronrubbed off the bottoms of two chairs, which she placed in convenientpositions for her expected visitors. When they came in they found her ina very perturbed condition. She answered Mrs Null's questions with avery few words and a great many grunts, and kept her eyes fixed nearlyall the time upon Mr Croft, endeavoring to find out, perhaps, if he hadyet been subjected to any kind of conjuring. 

When all the questions which young people generally put to old servantshad been asked by Mrs Null, and Croft had made as many remarks as mighthave been expected of him in regard to the age and recollections of thisinteresting old negress, Aunt Patsy began to be much more disturbed, fearing that the interview was about to come to an end. She actually gotup and went to the back door to look for Eliza. 

"Do you want her?" anxiously inquired Mrs Null, going to the old woman'sside. 

"Yaas, I wants her, " said Aunt Patsy. "I 'spec' she at Aggy's house--datcabin ober dar--but I can't holler loud 'nuf to make her h'yere me. ""I'll run over there and tell her you want her, " said Mrs Null, stepping out of the door. 

"Dat's a good chile, " said Aunt Patsy, with more warmth than she had yetexhibited. "Dat's your own mudder's good chile!" And then she turnedquickly into the room. 

Croft had risen as if he were about to follow Mrs Null, or, at least, tosee where she had gone. But Aunt Patsy stopped him. "Jus' you stay h'yarone little minute, " she said, hurriedly. "I got one word to say to you, sah. " And she stood up before him as erect as she could, fixing hergreat spectacles directly upon him. "You look out, sah, fur ole miss, "she said, in a voice, naturally shrill, but now heavily handicapped byage and emotion, "ole Miss Keswick, I means. She boun' to do you harm, sah. She tole me so wid her own mouf. "

"Mrs Keswick!" exclaimed Croft. "Why, you must be mistaken, good aunty. She can have no ill feelings towards me. "

"Don' you b'lieve dat!" said the old woman. "Don' you b'lieve one wordob dat! She hate you, sah, she hate you! She not gwine to tell you dat. She make you think she like you fus' rate, an' den de nex' thing youknows, she kunjer you, an' shribble up de siners ob your legs, an' gibyou mis'ry in your back, wot you neber git rid of no moh'. Can't tellyou nuffin' else now, for h'yar comes Miss Annie, " she added hurriedly, and, stepping to the bedside, she drew from under the mattrass a pair oflittle blue shoes, tied together by their strings. "Jes' you take deseh'yar shoes, " she said, "an' ef eber you think ole miss gwine ter kunjeryou, jes' you hol' up dem shoes right afore her face. Dar now, stuff 'emin your pocket. Don' you tell Miss Annie wot I done say to you. 'Memberdat, sah. It ud kill her, shuh. "

At this moment Mrs Null entered, just as the shoes had been slipped intothe side-pocket of Mr Croft's coat by the old woman. And as she did so, she whispered, in a tone that could not but have its effect upon him, "Now, nebber tell her, honey. "

"Here is Eliza, " said Mrs Null, as she came in, followed by the greatgranddaughter. "And I think, " she said to Mr Croft, "it is time for usto go. Good-bye, Aunt Patsy. You can send back the basket by Eliza. "

When the two left the cabin, Croft walked thoughtfully for a fewmoments, wondering what in the world the old woman could have meant byher strange words and gift to him. Concluding, however, that they couldhave been nothing but the drivelings of weak-minded old age, hedismissed them from his mind and turned his attention to his companion. "We were speaking, " he said, "of Mr Null. Do you expect him shortly?"

"Well, no, " said the lady. "I can't say that I do. "

"That is odd, " said Lawrence. "I thought this was your wedding journey. "

"So it is, in a measure, " said she, "but there is no necessity of hiscoming here. Didn't I tell you that my aunt was opposed to themarriage?" "But she might as well make up her mind to it now, " he said. 

"She is not in the habit of making up her mind to things she don't like. Do you know, " she added, looking around with a half smile, as if shetook pleasure in astonishing him, "that Aunt Keswick is going to try tohave us divorced?"

"What!" exclaimed Croft. "Divorced! Is there any ground for it?"

"She has other matrimonial plans for me, that's all. "

"What an extraordinary individual she must be!" he exclaimed. "But shecan never carry out such a ridiculous scheme as that. "

"I don't know, " she said. "She has already consulted Mr Brandon on thesubject. "

"What nonsense!" cried Croft. "If you and Mr Null are satisfied, nobodyelse has anything to do with it. "

"Mr Null and I are of one mind, " said she, "and agree perfectly. Butdon't you think it is a terrible thing to know you must always face anirritated aunt?"

"Oh, " said Croft, looking around at her very coldly and sternly, "Ibegin to see. I suppose a separation would improve your prospects inlife. But it can't be done if your husband is opposed to it. "

"Mr Croft, " said the lady, her face flushing a good deal, "you have noright to speak to me in that way, and attribute such motives to me. Nomatter whom I had married, I would never give him up for the sake ofmoney, or a farm, or anything you think my aunt could give me. "

"I beg your pardon, " said Croft, "if I made a mistake, but I don't seewhat else I could infer from your remarks. "

"My remarks, " said she, "were, --well, they have a different meaning fromwhat you supposed. " She walked on in silence for a few moments, andthen, looking up to her companion, she said: "I have a great mind totell you something, if you will promise, at least for the present, notto breathe it to a living soul. "

Instantly the lookout on the bow of Lawrence Croft's life action calledout: "Breakers ahead!" and almost instantly its engine was stopped, andevery faculty of its commander was on the alert. "I do not know, " hesaid, "that I am entitled to your confidence. Would it be of anyadvantage to you to tell me what you propose?"

"It would be of advantage, and you are entitled, " she added quickly. "Itis about Mr Null, and you ought to know it, for you instigated mywedded life. "

"I instigated!"--exclaimed Mr Croft. And then he stopped short, both inhis speech and walk. 

"Yes, " said the lady, stopping also, and turning to face him, "you did, and you ought to remember it. You said if I had a husband to travelabout with me you would like very much to employ me in the search for MrKeswick, and it was solely on that account that I went and got married. "Observing the look of blank and utter amazement on his face, she smiled, and said: "Please don't look so horribly astonished. Mr Null is void. "

As she made this remark the lady looked up at her companion with a smileand an expression of curiosity as to how he would take the announcement. Lawrence gazed blankly at her for a moment, and then he broke into alaugh. "You don't mean to say, " he exclaimed, "that Mr Null is animaginary being?"

"Entirely so, " she replied. "My dear Freddy is nothing but a fancifulidea, with no attribute whatever except the name. "

"You are a most extraordinary young person, " said Lawrence; "almost asextraordinary as your aunt. What in the world made you think of doingsuch a thing? and why do you wish to keep up the delusion among yourrelatives, even so far as to drive your aunt to the point of getting youdivorced from your airy husband?" And he laughed again. "I told youhow I came to think of it, " she said, as they walked on again. "It wasvery plain that if I wanted to travel about as your agent I must bemarried, and I have found a husband quite a protection and an advantage, even when he doesn't go about with me; and as to keeping up thedelusion, as you call it, in my own family, I have found that to beabsolutely necessary, at least for the present. My aunt, even when I wasa little girl, determined to take my marriage into her own hands; andsince I have returned to her, this desire has come up again in the mostastonishing way. It is her principal subject of conversation with me. Were it not for the protection which my dear Freddy Null gives me Ishould be thrown bodily into the arms of the person whom my aunt hasselected, and he would be obliged to take me, whether he wanted to ornot, or be cast forth forever. So you see how important it is that myaunt should think I am married; and I do hope you will not tell anybodyabout Mr Null. "

"Of course I will keep your secret, " said Croft. "You may rely uponthat; but don't you think--do you believe that this sort of thing isaltogether right?"

She did not answer for a few moments, and then she said: "I suppose youmust consider me a very deceptive sort of person, but you shouldremember that these things were not done for my own good, and, as far asI can see, they were the only things that could be done. Do you supposeI was going to let you pounce down on my cousin and do him some injury, for, as you kept your object such a secret, I did not suppose it couldbe anything but an injury you intended him. "

"A fine opinion of me!" said Croft. 

"And then, do you suppose, " she continued, "that I would allow my auntto quarrel with Junius and disinherit him, as she says she will, shouldhe decline to marry me. I expected to drop my married name when I camehere, but I had not been with my aunt fifteen minutes before I saw thatit would never do for me to be a single woman while I stayed with her;and so I kept my Freddy by me. I did not intend, at all, to tell you allthese things about my cousin, and I only did it because I did not wishyou to think that I was a sly, mean creature, deceiving others for myown good. "

"Well, " said Croft, "although I can't say you are right in making yourrelatives believe you are married when you are not, still I see you hadvery fair reasons for what you did, and you certainly showed a greatdeal of ingenuity and pluck in carrying out your remarkable schemes. By-the-way, " he continued, somewhat hesitatingly, "I am in your debt foryour services to me. "

"Not a bit of it!" she exclaimed quickly. "I never did a thing for you. It was all for myself, or, rather, for my cousin. The only money due wasthat which you paid to Mr Candy before I took charge of the matter. "Lawrence felt that this was rather a sore subject with his companion, and he dropped it. "Do you still hold the position of cashier in theInformation Shop?"

"No, " she said. "When I started out on my lonely wedding tour I gave upthat, and if I should go back to New York, I do not think I should wantto take it again. ". 

"Do you propose soon to return to New York?" he asked. 

"No; at least I have made no plans in regard to it. I think it wouldgrieve my aunt very much if I were to go away from her now, and as longas I have Mr Null to protect me from her matrimonial schemes, I am gladto stay with her. She is very kind to me. "

"I think you are entirely right in deciding to stay here, " he said, looking around at her, and contrasting in his mind the bright-faced, andsomewhat plump young person walking beside him with the thin-faced girlin black whom he had seen behind the cashier's desk. 

"Now, " said she, with a vivacious little laugh, "I have poured out mywhole soul before you, and, in return, I want you to gratify a curiositywhich is fairly eating me up. Why were you so anxious to find my CousinJunius? And how did you happen to come here the very day after hearrived? And, more than that, how was it that you had seen him atMidbranch so recently? You were talking about it last night. It couldn'thave been my letter from Howlett's that brought you down here?"

"No, " said Lawrence, "my meeting with Mr Keswick at Midbranch wasentirely accidental. When I arrived there, a few days ago, I had noreason to suppose that I should meet him. But I must ask you to excuseme from giving my reasons for wishing to find your cousin, and forcoming to see him here. The matter between us has now become one of noimportance, and will be dropped. "

The lady's face flushed. "Oh, indeed!" she said. And during the shortremainder of their walk to the house she made no further remark. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

When Lawrence and his companion reached the house, they found on theporch Mrs Keswick and her nephew; and, after a little generalconversation, the latter remarked to Mr Croft that he had found it wouldnot be in his power to attend to that matter he had spoken of; to whichCroft replied that he was very much obliged to him for thinking of it, and that it was of no consequence at all, as he would probably makeother arrangements. He then stated that he would be obliged to return tothe Green Sulphur Springs that day, and that, as it was a long ride, hewould like to start as soon as his horse could be brought to him. Butthis procedure was condemned utterly by the old lady, who insisted thatMr Croft should not leave until after dinner, which meal should beserved earlier than usual in order to give him plenty of time to get tothe Springs before dark, and as Lawrence had nothing to oppose to hervery urgent protest, he consented to stay. Before dinner was ready hefound out why the protest was made. The old lady took him aside and madeinquiries of him in regard to Mr Null. He had already informed her thathe was not acquainted with that gentleman, but she thought, as Mr Croftseemed to be going about the country a good deal, he might possibly meetwith her niece's husband; and, if he should do so, she would be veryglad to have him become acquainted with him. 

To this Lawrence replied with much gravity that he would be happy to doso. 

"Mr Null has not yet come to my house, " said Mrs Keswick, "and it isvery natural that one should desire to know the husband of her onlyniece who is, or should be, the same as a daughter to her. "

"A very natural wish indeed, " said Lawrence. 

"I am not quite sure in what business Mr Null is engaged, " shecontinued, "and, although I asked my niece about it, she answered in avery evasive way, which makes me think his occupation is one she is notproud of. I have reason to suppose, however, that he is an agent forthe sale of some fertilizing compound. "

At this Lawrence could not help smiling very broadly. 

"It may appear very odd and ridiculous to you, " she said, "that a personconnected with my family should be engaged in a business like that, forthose fertilizers, as you ought to know, are all humbugs of the vilestkind. The only time I bought any it took my whole wheat crop to pay forit, and as for the clover I got afterward, a grasshopper could haveeaten the whole of it. I am afraid he didn't tell her his businessbefore he married her, and I'm glad she's ashamed of it. As far as I canfind out, it does not seem as if Mr Null has any intention of cominghere for some time; and, as I said before, I do very much want to knowsomething about him--that is from a disinterested outsider. One cannotexpect a recently married young woman to give a correct account of herhusband. "

"I do not believe, " said Mr Croft, "that there is any probability that Ishall ever meet the gentleman--our walks in life being so different. "

"I should hope so, indeed!" interrupted Mrs Keswick. "But people of allsorts do run across each other. "

"But if I do meet with him, " he continued, "I shall take great pleasurein giving you my impressions by letter, or in person, of yournephew-in-law. " "Don't call him that!" exclaimed the old lady withmuch asperity. "I don't acknowledge the title. But I won't say any moreabout him, " with a grim smile, "or you may think I don't like him. "

"Some of these days, " he said, "you may come to be of the opinion thathe is exactly the husband you would wish your niece to have. "

"Never!" she cried. "If he were an angel in broadcloth. But I mustn'ttalk about these things. I mentioned Mr Null to you because you are theonly person of my acquaintance who, I suppose, is likely to meet withhim. In regard to that little company I spoke of to you, I have notquite made up my mind about it, and, therefore, haven't mentioned it;but if I carry out the plan I will write to you at the Springs, andshall certainly expect you to be one of us. " "That would give me greatpleasure, " said Lawrence, in a tone which indicated to the quick brainof the old lady that he would like to make a condition, but was toopolite to do so. 

"If Miss March should agree to come, " she said, "it might be pleasantfor you to make one of her party and ride over at the same time. However, I'll let you know if she is coming, and then you can join heror not, as suits your convenience. "

"Thank you very much, " said Lawrence, in a tone which betrayed noreserves. 

As he rode away that afternoon, Lawrence Croft, as his habit was onsuch occasions, revolved in his mind what he had heard and said and doneduring this little visit to the Keswick family. "Nothing could haveturned out better, " he thought. "To be sure the young man could not orwould not be of any assistance to me, which is probably what I ought tohave expected, but the strong-tempered old lady, his aunt, promises tobe of tenfold more service than he could possibly be. As to that veryodd young lady, Mrs Keswick's niece, I imagine that she does not regardme very favorably, for she was quite cool after I refused to let herinto the secret of my desire to find her cousin, but as I did not askfor her confidences, she had no right to expect a return for them. And, by-the-way, it's odd how many confidences have been reposed in me sinceI've been down here. Keswick begins it; then old Brandon takes up thestrain; after that Mr Candy's ex-cashier tells me the story of her life, and entrusts me with the secret of her marriage with a man of wind--thatmost useful Mr Null; after that, her aunt makes me understand how muchshe hates Mr Null, and how she would like me to find out somethingdisreputable about him; and then--, by George! I forgot the old negrowoman in the cabin!" At this he put his hand in the side-pocket of hiscoat, and drew out the pair of little blue shoes. "Why in the name ofcommon sense did the old hag give me these? And why should she supposethat Mrs Keswick intended me a harm? The old lady never saw or heard ofme until yesterday, and her manner certainly indicated no dislike of me. But, of course, Aunt Patsy's brain is cracked, and she didn't know whatshe was talking about. I shall keep the shoes, however, and if ever thevenerable purple sun-bonnet runs afoul of me, I shall hold them up beforeit and see what happens. "

And so, very well satisfied with the result of his visit to Hewlett's, he rode on to the Green Sulphur Springs. 

On the afternoon of the next day Miss March received an invitation fromMrs Keswick to spend a few days with her, and make the acquaintance ofher niece who had recently returned to the home of her childhood. Theletter, for it was much more than a note of invitation, was cordial, andin parts pathetic. It dwelt upon the sundered pleasant relations of thetwo families, and expressed the hope that Mr Brandon's visit to hermight be the beginning of a renewal of the old intimacy. Mrs Keswicktook occasion to incidentally mention that the house would beparticularly dull for her niece just now, as Junius was on the point ofstarting for Washington, where he would be detained some weeks onbusiness; and she hoped, most earnestly, that Miss Roberta would acceptthis invitation to make her acquaintance and that of her niece; and shedesignated Thursday of the following week as the day on which she wouldlike her to come. 

As may reasonably be supposed, this letter greatly astonished MissMarch, who carried it to her uncle, and asked him to explain, if hecould, what it meant. The old gentleman was a good deal surprised whenhe read it; but it delighted him in a far greater degree. He perceivedin it the first fruits of his diplomacy. Mrs Keswick saw that it wouldbe to her interest, for a time at least, to make friends with him; andthis was the way she took to do it. She would not come to Midbranchherself, and bring the niece, but she would have Roberta come to her. Inthe pathos and cordiality Mr Brandon believed not at all. What the oldhypocrite probably wanted was to enlist his grateful sympathy in thatridiculous divorce case. But, whatever her motives might be, he would bevery glad to have his niece go to her; for if anything could make animpression upon that time-hardened and seasoned old chopping-block of awoman, it was Roberta's personal influence. If Mrs Keswick should cometo know Roberta, that knowledge would do more than anything else in theworld to remove her objections to the marriage he so greatly desired. 

He said nothing of all this to his niece; but he most earnestlycounselled her to accept the invitation and make a visit to the twoladies. Of course Roberta did not care to go, but as her uncle appearedto take the matter so much to heart, she consented to gratify him, andwrote an acceptance. She found, also, when she had thought more on thematter, that she had a good deal of curiosity to see this Mrs Keswick, of whom she had heard so much, and who had had such an importantinfluence on her life. 

CHAPTER XV. 

On the afternoon of the day on which Mrs Keswick's letter arrived atMidbranch, Peggy had great news to communicate to Aunt Judy, the cook:"Miss Rob's gwine to Mahs' Junius' house in de kerridge, an' I's gwine'long wid her to set in front wid Sam. "

"Mahs' Junius aint got no house, " said Aunt Judy, turning around verysuddenly. "Does you mean she gwine ter old Miss Keswick's?"

"Yaas, " answered Peggy. 

"Well, den, why don' you say so? Dat aint Mahs' Junius' house nohow, though he lib dar as much as he lib anywhar. Wot she gwine dar fur?"

"Gwine to git married, I reckon, " said Peggy. 

"Git out!" ejaculated Aunt Judy. "Wid you fur bride'maid?"

"Dunno, " answered Peggy. "She done tole me she didn't think she'd havemuch use fur me, but Mahs' Robert, he said it were too far fur her to gowidout a maid; but ef she want me fur bride'maid I'll do dat too. "

"You bawn fool!" shouted Aunt Judy. "You ain't got sense 'nuf to hockthe frocks ob de bridesmaids. An dat's all fool talk about Miss Robgwine dar to be married. When she an' Mahs' Junius hab de weddin', dey'll hab it h'yar, ob course. She gwine to see ole Miss Keswick, cozdat's de way de fus' fam'lies allus does afore dey hab dere weddin'. I'spow'ful glad she's gwine dar, instid ob ole Miss Keswick comin' h'yar. Idon' wan' her kunjerin' me, an' she'd do dat as quick as winkin' ef debatter bread's a leetle burned, or dar's too much salt in de soup. You'sgot to keep youse'f mighty straight, you Peggy, when you gits whar oleMiss Keswick is. Don' you come none ob your fool tricks, or she kunjeryou, an' one ob your legs curl up like a pig's tail, an' neber uncurl nomoh'. How you like dat?"

To this Peggy made no reply, but with her eyes steadfastly fixed on AuntJudy, and her lower jaw very much dropped, she mentally resolved to keepherself as straight as possible during her stay at the Keswick's. 

"Dar's ole Aun' Patsy, " continued the speaker. "It's a mighty long timesence I've seen Aun' Patsy. Dat was when I went ober dar wid Miss Rob'smudder when de two fam'lys was fren's. I was her maid, an' went wid herjes as Mahs' Robert wants you ter go 'long wid Miss Rob. He ain't gwineto furgit how they did in de ole times when de ladies went visitin' indere kerridges fur to stay free, four days. Aun' Patsy were pow'ful oleden, but she didn't die soon 'nuf, an' ole Miss Keswick she kunjer her, an' now she can't die at all. "

"Neber die!" ejaculated Peggy. 

"Neber die, nohow!" answered Aunt Judy. "Mighty offen she thought shegwine to die but 'twarnt no use. She can't do it. An' de las' time Ihear ob her, she alibe yit, jes' de same as eber. An' dar was Mahs' JohnKeswick. She cunjer him coz he rode de gray colt to de Coht House whenshe done tole him to let dat gray colt alone, coz 'twarnt hisen buthern, an' he go shoot hese'f dead by de gate pos'. You's got to go fruby dat pos' when you go inter de gate. "

"Dat same pos'!" cried Peggy. 

"Yaas, " said Aunt Judy, "dat same one. An' dey tells me dat on thirdChewsdays, which is Coht day, de same as when he took de gray colt, assoon as it git dark he ghos' climb up to de top ob dat pos', an' set darall night. "

With a conjuring old woman in the house, and a monthly ghost on thegate-post outside, the Keswick residence did not appear as attractive toPeggy as it had done before, but she mentally determined that while shewas there she would be very careful to look put sharp for herself, aperformance for which she was very well adapted. 

It was on a pleasant autumn morning that Mr Brandon very carefullyensconced his niece in the family carriage, with Peggy and a trustynegro man, Sam, on the outside front seat. "I would gladly go with you, my dear, " he said, "even without the formality of an invitation, but itis far better for you to go by yourself. My very presence would provokean antagonism in the old lady, while with you, personally, it isimpossible that any such feeling should exist. I hope your visit may doaway with all ill feeling between our families. "

"I want you to understand, uncle, " said Miss Roberta, "that I am makingthis visit almost entirely to please you, and I shall do everything inmy power to make Mrs Keswick feel that you and I are perfectly welldisposed toward her; but you can't expect me to exhibit any great warmthof friendship toward a person who once used such remarkable and violentexpressions in regard to me. "

"But those feelings, my dear, " said Mr Brandon, "if we are to believeMrs Keswick's letter, have entirely disappeared. "

"It is quite natural that they should do so, " said Roberta, "as there isno longer any reason for them. And there is another thing I want toimpress on your mind, Uncle Robert, you must expect no result from thisvisit except a renewal of amity between yourself and Mrs Keswick. "

"I understand it perfectly, " said the old gentleman, feeling quiteconfident that if his family and Mrs Keswick should once again becomefriendly, the main object of his desires would not be difficult ofaccomplishment. "And now, my dear, I will not detain you any longer. Ihope you may have a very pleasant visit, and I advise you to cultivatethat young Mrs Null, whom I take to be a very sensible and charmingperson. " And then he kissed her good-bye and shut the carriage door. 

It was about the middle of the afternoon when Sam drove through theouter Keswick gate, and Peggy, who had jumped down to open said gate, had made herself positively sure that, at present, there was no ghostsitting upon the post. Before she reached the house, Roberta began towonder a good deal if she should find Mrs Keswick the woman she hadpictured in her mind. But when the carriage drew up in front of theporch there came out to meet her, not the mistress of the estate, but amuch younger lady, who tripped down the steps and reached Roberta as shedescended from the carriage. 

"We are very glad to see you, Miss March, " she said. "My aunt is nothere just now, but will be back directly. "

"This is Mrs Null, isn't it?" said Roberta, and as the other smiled andanswered with a slight flush that it was, Roberta stooped just thelittle that was necessary, and kissed her. Mrs Keswick's niece had notexpected so warm a greeting from this lady, to whom she was almost astranger, and instantly she said to herself: "In that kiss Freddy diesto you. " For some days she had been turning over and over in her mindthe question whether or not she should tell Roberta March that she wasnot Mrs Null. She greatly disliked keeping up the deception where it wasnot necessary, and with Roberta, if she would keep the secret, there wasno need of this aerial matrimony. Besides her natural desire to confidein a person of her own sex and age, she did not wish Mr Croft to be theonly one who shared her secret; and so she had determined that herdecision would depend on what sort of girl Roberta proved to be. "If Ilike her I'll tell her; if I don't, I won't, " was the final decision. And when Roberta March looked down upon her with her beautiful eyes andkissed her, Freddy Null departed this life so far as those two wereconcerned. 

Mrs Keswick had, apparently, made a very great miscalculation in regardto the probable time of arrival of her guest, for Miss March and Peggy, and even Sam and the horses, had been properly received and cared for, and Miss March had been sitting in the parlor for some time, and stillthe old lady did not come into the house. Her niece had grown veryanxious about this absence, and had begun to fear that her aunt hadtreated Miss March as she had treated her on her arrival, and had goneaway to stay. But Plez, whom she had sent to tell his mistress that hervisitor was in the house, returned with the information that "ole miss"was in one of the lower fields directing some men who were digging aditch, and that she would return to the house in a very short time. Thusassured that no permanent absence was intended, she went into the parlorto entertain Miss March, and to explain, as well as she could, the stateof affairs; when, as she entered the door, she saw that lady suddenlyarise and look steadfastly out of the window. 

"Can that be Mr Croft?" Miss March exclaimed. 

The younger girl made a dash forward and also looked out of the window. Yes, there was Mr Croft, riding across the yard toward the tree wherehorses were commonly tied. 

"Did you expect him?" asked Roberta, quickly. 

"No more than I expected the man in the moon, " was the impulsive andhonest answer of her companion. 

"I am very glad to see you, Mrs Null, " said Lawrence, when that lady methim on the porch. And when he was shown into the parlor, he greeted MissMarch with much cordiality, but no surprise. But when he inquired afterother members of the family, he was much surprised to find that MrKeswick had gone to Washington. "Was not this very unexpected, MrsNull?" he asked. 

"Why, no, " she answered. "Junius told us, almost as soon as he camehere, that he would have to be in Washington by the first of this week. "

Mr Croft did not pursue this subject further, but presently remarked:"Are you and I the first comers, Miss March?"

Roberta looked from one of her companions to the other, and remarked: "Ido not understand you. "

Lawrence now perceived that he was treading a very uncertain and, perhaps, dangerous path of conversation, and the sooner he got out of itthe better; but, before he could decide what answer to make, a silentand stealthy figure appeared at the door, beckoning and nodding in avery mysterious way. This proved to be the plump black maid, Letty, who, having attracted the attention of the company, whispered loudly, "MissAnnie!" whereupon that young lady immediately left the room. 

"What other comers did you expect?" then asked Roberta of Mr Croft. 

"I certainly supposed there would be a small company here, " he said, "probably neighborhood people, but if I was mistaken, of course I don'twish to say anything more about it to the family. "

"Were you invited yourself?" asked Roberta. 

Croft wished very much that he could say that he had accidentallydropped in. But this he could not do, and he answered that Mrs Keswickasked him to come about this time. He did not consider it necessary toadd that she had written to him at the Springs, renewing her invitationvery earnestly, and mentioning that Miss March had consented to make oneof the party. 

This was as far as Roberta saw fit to continue the subject, on thepresent occasion; and she began to talk about the charming weather, andthe pretty way in which the foliage was reddening on the side of a hillopposite the window. Mr Croft was delighted to enter into this newchannel of speech, and discussed with considerable fervor theattractiveness of autumn in Virginia. Miss Annie found Letty in a verydisturbed state of mind. The dinner had been postponed until the arrivalof Miss March, and now it had been still further delayed by thenon-arrival of the mistress of the house, and everything was becomingdried up, and unfit to eat. "This will never do!" exclaimed Miss Annie. "I will go myself and look for aunt. She must have forgotten the time ofday, and everything else. "

Putting on her hat she ran out of the back door, but she did not have togo very far, for she found the old lady in the garden, earnestlyregarding a bed of turnips. "Where have you been, my dear aunt?" criedthe girl. "Miss March has been here ever so long, and Mr Croft has come, and dinner has been waiting until it has all dried up. I was afraid thatyou had forgotten that company was coming to-day. "

"Forgotten!" said the old lady, glaring at the turnips. "It isn't aneasy thing to forget. I invited the girl, and I expected her to come, but I tell you, Annie, when I saw that carriage coming along the road, all the old feeling came back to me. I remembered what its owners haddone to me and mine, and what they are still trying to do, and I felt Icould not go into the house, and give her my hand. It would be liketaking hold of a snake. "

"A snake!" cried her niece, with much warmth. "She is a lovely woman!And her coming shows what kindly feelings she has for you. But, nomatter what you think about it, aunt, you have asked her here, and youmust come in and see her. Dinner is waiting, and I don't know what moreto say about your absence. "

"Go in and have dinner, " said Mrs Keswick. 

"Don't wait for me. I'll come in and see her after a while; but Ihaven't yet got to the point of sitting down to the table and eatingwith her. "

"Oh, aunt!" exclaimed Annie, "you ought never to have asked her if youare going to treat her in this way! And what am I to say to her? Whatexcuse am I to make? Are you not sick? Isn't something the matter withyou?"

"You can tell them I'm flustrated, " said the old lady, "and that is allthat's the matter with me. But I'm not coming in to dinner, and there isno use of saying anything more about it. "

Annie looked at her, the tears of mortification still standing in hereyes. "I suppose I must go and do the best I can, " she said, "but, aunt, please tell me one thing. Did you invite any other people here? Mr Croftspoke as if he expected to see other visitors, and if they ask anythingmore about it, I don't know what to say. "

"The only other people I invited, " said the old lady with a grim grin, "were the King of Norway, and the Prime Minister of Spain, and neitherof them could come. " Annie said no more, but hurrying back to thehouse, she ordered dinner to be served immediately. At first the mealwas not a very lively one. The young hostess _pro tempore_ explained theabsence of the mistress of the house by stating that she had had anervous attack--which was quite true--and that she begged them to excuseher until after dinner. The two guests expressed their regret at thisunfortunate indisposition, but each felt a degree of embarrassment atthe absence of Mrs Keswick. Roberta, who had heard many stories of theold woman, guessed at the true reason, and if the distance had not beenso great, she would have gone home that afternoon. Lawrence Croft, ofcourse, could imagine no reason for the old lady's absence, except theone that had been given them, but he suspected that there must be someother. He did his best, however, to make pleasant conversation; andRoberta, who began to have a tender feeling for the little lady at thehead of the table, who, she could easily see, had been placed in anunpleasant position, seconded his efforts with such effect that, whenthe little party had concluded their dinner with a course of hot poundcake and cream sauce, they were chatting together quite sociably. 

In about ten minutes after they had all gone into the parlor, Miss Annieexcused herself, and presently returned with a message to Miss Marchthat Mrs Keswick would be very glad to see her in another room. This wasa very natural message from an elderly lady, who was not well, butRoberta arose and walked out of the parlor with a feeling as if shewere about to enter the cage of an erratic tigress. But she met with nosuch creature. She saw in the back room, into which she was ushered, asmall old woman, dressed very plainly, who came forward to meet her, extending both hands, into one of which Roberta placed one of her own. 

"I may as well say at once, Roberta March, " said Mrs Keswick, "that thereason I didn't come to meet you when you first arrived was, that Icouldn't get over, all of a sudden, the feelings I have had against yourfamily for so many years. "

"Why then, Mrs Keswick, " said Roberta, very coldly, "did you ask me tocome?"

"Because I wanted you to come, " said Mrs Keswick, "and because I thoughtI was stronger than I turned out to be; but you must make allowances forthe stiffness which gets into old people's dispositions as well as theirbacks. I want you to understand, however, that I meant all I said inthat letter, and I am very glad to see you. If anything in my conducthas seemed to you out of the way, you must set it down to the fact thatI was making a very sudden turn, and starting out on a new track inwhich I hope we shall all keep for the rest of our lives. "

Roberta could not help thinking that the sudden turn in the new trackbegan with the visit of her uncle to this house, and that the old ladyneed not have inflicted upon her the disagreeable necessity ofwitnessing a hostess taking a very repulsive cold plunge; but all shesaid was that she hoped the families would now live together in friendlyrelations; and that she was sure that, if this were to be, it would giveher uncle a great deal of pleasure. She very much wanted to ask MrsKeswick how Mr Croft happened to be here at this time, but she felt thather very brief acquaintance with the lady would not warrant thediscussion of a subject like that. 

"She is very much the kind of woman I thought she was, " said Roberta toherself, when, after some further hospitable remarks from Mrs Keswick, the two went to the parlor together to find Mr Croft. But thatgentleman, having been deserted by all the ladies, was walking up anddown the greensward in front of the house, smoking a cigar. Mrs Keswickwent out to him, and greeted him very cordially, begging him to excuseher for not being able to see him as soon as he came. 

Lawrence set all this aside in his politest manner, but declared himselfvery much disappointed in not seeing Mr Keswick, and also remarked thatfrom what she had said to him on his last visit he had expected to findquite a little party here. 

"I am sorry, " said the old lady, "that Junius is away, for he would bevery glad to see you, and it never came into my mind to mention to youthat he was obliged to be in Washington at this time. And, as for theparty, I thought afterwards that it would be a great deal cosier just tohave a few persons here. "

"Oh, yes, " said Lawrence, "most certainly, a great deal cosier. "

Mrs Keswick ate supper with her guests, and behaved very well. Duringthe evening she sustained the main part of the conversation, giving thecompany a great many anecdotes and reminiscences of old times and oldfamilies, relating them in an odd and peculiar way that was veryinteresting, especially to Croft, to whom the subject matter was quitenew. But, although her three companions listened to the old lady withdeferential attention, interspersed with appropriate observations, eachone made her the object of severe mental scrutiny, and endeavored todiscover the present object of her scheming old mind. Roberta was quitesure that her invitation and that of Mr Croft was a piece of artfulmanagement on the part of the old lady, and imagined, though she was notquite sure about it, that it was intended as a bit of match-making. Toget her married to somebody else, would be, of course, the best possiblemethod of preventing her marrying Junius; and this, she had reason tobelieve, was the prime object of old Mrs Keswick's existence. But whyshould Mr Croft be chosen as the man with whom she was to be thrown. Shehad learned that the old lady had seen him before, but was quite certainthat her acquaintance with him was slight. Could Junius have told hisaunt about the friendship between herself and Mr Croft? It was not likehim, but a great many unlikely things take place. 

As for Lawrence, he knew very well there was a trick beneath hisinvitation, but he could not at all make out why it had been played. Hehad been given an admirable opportunity of offering himself to MissMarch, but there was no reason, apparent to him, why this should havebeen done. 

Miss Annie, watching her aunt very carefully, and speaking but seldom, quite promptly made up her mind in regard to the matter. She knew verywell the bitter opposition of the old woman to a marriage between Juniusand Miss March; and saw, as plainly as she saw the lamp on the table, that Roberta had been brought here on purpose to be sacrificed to MrCroft. Everything had been made ready, the altar cleared, and, as wellas the old lady's grindstone would act, the knife sharpened. "But, " saidMiss Annie to herself, "she needn't suppose that I am going to sit quietand see all this going on, with Junius away off there in Washington, knowing nothing about any of it. "

Miss Roberta retired quite early to her room, having been fatigued byher long drive, and she was just about to put out her light when sheheard a little knock at the door. Opening it slightly, she saw thereJunius Keswick's cousin, who also appeared quite ready for bed. 

"May I come in for a minute?" said Annie. 

"Certainly, " replied Miss March, admitting her, and closing the doorafter her. 

"I have something to tell you, " said the younger lady, admiring as shespoke, the length of her companion's braided hair. "I intended to keepit until to-morrow, but since I came up stairs I felt I could not letyou sleep a night under the same roof with me without knowing it. I amnot Mrs Null. "

"What!" exclaimed Roberta, in a tone which made Annie lift up her handsand implore her not to speak so loud, for fear that her aunt should hearher. "I know she hasn't come up stairs yet, for she sits up dreadfullylate, but she can hear things, almost anywhere. No, I am not Mrs Null. There is no such person as Mr Null, or, at least, he is a mere gaseousmyth, whom I married for the sake of the protection his name gave me. "

"This is the most extraordinary thing I ever heard, " said Roberta. "Youmust tell me all about it. "

"I don't want to keep you up, " said Annie, "you must be tired. "

"I am not tired, " said Roberta, "for every particle of fatigue has flownaway. " And with this she made Annie sit down beside her on the lounge. "Now you must tell me what this means, " she said. "Can it be that youraunt does not know about it?"

"Indeed, she does not, " said Annie. "I married Freddy Null in New York, for reasons which we need not talk of now, for that matter is all pastand gone; but when I came here, I found almost immediately, that hewould be more necessary to me in this house than anywhere else. "

"I cannot imagine, " said Roberta, "why a gaseous husband should benecessary to you here. "

"It is not a very easy thing to explain, " said the other, "that is, itis easy enough, but--"

"Oh, " said Roberta, catching the reason of her companion's hesitation, "I don't think you ought to object to tell me your reason. Does itrelate to your cousin Junius?"

"Well, " said Annie, "not altogether, and not so much to him as to myaunt. " "I think I see, " said Roberta. "A marriage between you two wouldsuit her very well. Are you afraid that she would try to force him onyou?"

"Oh, no;" said Annie, "that would be bad enough, but it would not be soembarrassing, and so dreadfully unpleasant, as forcing me on him, andthat is what aunt wants to do. And you can easily see that, in thatcase, I could not stay in this house at all. I scarcely know my cousinas a man, my strongest recollection of him being that of a big and verynice boy, who used to climb up in the apple-trees to get me apples, andthen come down to the very lowest branch where he could drop the ripestones right into my apron, and not bruise them. But, even if I had beenacquainted with him all these years, and liked him ever so much, Icouldn't stay here and have aunt make him take me, whether he wantedto, or not. And, unless you knew my aunt very well, you could notconceive how unscrupulously straightforward she is in carrying out herplans. "

"And so, " said Roberta, "you have quite baffled her by this little ruseof a marriage. "

"Not altogether, " said Annie with a smile, "for she vows she is going toget me divorced from Mr Null. "

"That is funnier than the rest of it, " said Roberta, laughing. And theyboth laughed together, but in a subdued way, so as not to attract theattention of the old lady below stairs. "And now, you see, " said Annie, "why I must be Mrs Null while I stay here. And you will promise me thatyou will never tell any one?"

"You may be sure I shall keep your queer secret. But have you not toldit to any one but me?"

"Yes, " said Annie, "but I have only told it to one other, Mr Croft. Butplease don't speak of it to him. "

"Mr Croft!" exclaimed Roberta. "How in the world did you come to tellhim? Do you know him so well as that?"

"Well, " said Annie, "it does seem out of the way, I admit, that I shouldtell him, but I can't give you the whole story of how I came to do it. It wouldn't interest you--at least, it would, but I oughtn't to tell it. It is a twisty sort of thing. "

"Twisty?" said Roberta, drawing herself up, and a little away from hercompanion. 

Annie looked up, and caught the glance by which this word wasaccompanied, and the tone in which it was spoken went straight to hersoul. "Now, " said she, "if you are going to look at me, and speak inthat way, I'll tell you every bit of it. " And she did tell the wholestory, from her first meeting with Mr Croft in the Information Shop, down to the present moment. 

"What is your name, anyway?" said Roberta, when the story had been told. 

"My name, " said the other, "is Annie Peyton. "

"And now, do you know, Annie Peyton, " said Roberta, passing her fingersgently among the short, light-brown curls on her companion's forehead, "that I think you must have a very, very kindly recollection of the boywho used to come down to the lowest branches of the tree to drop applesinto your apron. "

CHAPTER XVI. 

Shortly after Peggy arrived with her mistress at the Keswickresidence, her mind began to be a good deal disturbed. She had beensurprised, when the carriage drew up to the door, that "Mahs' Junius"had not rushed down to meet his intended bride, and when she found hewas not in the house, and had, indeed, gone away from home, she did notat all know what to make of it. If Miss Rob took the trouble to travelall the way to the home of the man that the Midbranch people had decidedshe should marry, it was a very wonderful thing, indeed, that he shouldnot be there to meet her. And while these thoughts were turningthemselves over in the mind of this meditative girl of color, and theoutgoing look in her eyes was extending itself farther and farther, asif in search of some solution of the mystery, up rode Mr Croft. 

"Dar _he!_" exclaimed Peggy, as she stood at the corner of the housewhere she had been pursuing her meditations. "He!" she continued in avoice that would have been quite audible to any one standing near. "Uponmy libin' soul, wot brung him h'yar? Miss Rob don' wan' him round, nohow. I done druv him off wunst. Upon my libin' soul, he's done brunghis bag behin' him on de saddle, an' I reckon he's gwine to stay. "

As Mr Croft dismounted and went into the house, Peggy glowered at him;sundry expressions, sounding very much like odds and ends ofimprecations which she had picked up in the course of a short butinvestigative existence, gurgling from her lips. "I wish dat ole MissKeswick kunjer him. Ef she knew how Miss Rob hate him, she curl he legsup, an' gib him mis'ry spranglin' down he back. "

The hope of seeing this intruder well "kunjered" by the old lady was theonly thing that gave a promise of peace to the mind of Peggy; and thoughher nature was by no means a social one, she determined to make theacquaintance of some one or other in the house; hoping to find out howMrs Keswick conducted her conjurations; at what time of day or nightthey were generally put into operation; and how persons could be broughtunder their influence. 

The breakfast hour in the Keswick house was a variable one. Sometimesthe mistress of the establishment rose early and wanted her morning mealbefore she went out of doors; at other times she would go off to somedistant point on the farm to see about something that was doing or oughtto be done, and breakfast would be kept waiting for her. The delays, however, were not all due to the old lady's irregular habits. Very oftenLetty would come up stairs with the information that the "bread ain'triz;" and as a Virginia breakfast without hot bread would be animpossibility, the meal would be postponed until the bread did concludeto rise, or until some substitute, such as "beaten biscuit" had beenprovided. 

On the morning after his arrival, Lawrence Croft came down stairs abouteight o'clock, and found the lower part of the house deserted; andglancing into the dining-room as he passed its open door, he saw nosigns of breakfast. The house was cool, but the sun appeared to beshining warmly outside, and he stepped out of the open back door into asmall flower garden, with a series of broad boards down the walk whichlay along the middle of it. Up and down this board walk Lawrence strode, breathing the fresh air, and thinking over matters. He was not at allsatisfied at being here during Keswick's absence, feeling that he wasenjoying an advantage which, although it was quite honorable, did notappear so. What he had to do was to get an interview with Miss March assoon as possible, and have that matter over. When he had been definitelyaccepted or rejected, he would go away. And, whatever the result mightbe, he would write to his rival as soon as he returned to the Springs, and inform him of it, and would also explain how he had happened to behere with Miss March. While he was engaged in planning these honorableintentions, there came from the house Mrs Keswick's niece, with a basketin one hand, and a pair of scissors in the other, and she immediatelyapplied herself to cutting some geraniums and chrysanthemums, which wereabout the last flowers left blooming at that season in the garden. "Goodmorning, " said Croft, from the other end of the walk. "I am glad to seeyou out so early. "

"Good morning, " she replied, with a look which indicated that she wasnot at all glad to see him, "but I don't think it is early. "

Croft had noticed on the preceding day that her coolness towards himstill continued, but it did not suit him to let her know that heperceived it. He went up to her, and in a very friendly way remarked:"There is something I wish very much you would tell me. What is yourname? It is very odd that during all the time I have been acquaintedwith you I have never known your name. "

"You must have taken an immense interest in it, " she said, as shesnipped some dried leaves off a twig of geranium she had cut. 

"It was not that I did not take any interest, " said Croft, "but at firstyour name never came forward, and I soon began to know you by the titlewhich your remarkable condition of wedlock gave you. "

"And that is the name, " said the lady, very decidedly, "by which I am tobe known in this house. I am very proud of my maiden name, but I am notgoing to tell it to you for fear that some time you will use it. "

"Oh!" ejaculated Mr Croft. "Then I suppose I am to continue even tothink of you as Mrs Null. "

"You needn't think of me at all, " said she, "but when you speak to me Imost certainly expect you to use that name. It was only by a sort ofaccident that you came to know it was not my name. " "I don't consider itan accident at all, " said Croft. "I look upon it as a piece of verykindly confidence. "

Miss Annie gave a little twist to her mouth, which seemed to indicatethat if she spoke she should express her contempt of such an opinion, and Croft continued:

"I am very sorry that upon that occasion I should have felt myselfobliged to refuse your request that I should make you acquainted with myreasons for desiring to know Mr Keswick's whereabouts. But I am sure, ifyou understood the matter, you would not be in the least degree--"

"Oh, you need not trouble yourself about that, " she interrupted. "Idon't want you to tell me anything at all. It is quite easy, now, to seewhy you wished to know where my cousin was. "

"It is impossible that you should know!" exclaimed Croft. 

"We will say no more about it, " replied Annie. "I am quite satisfied. "

"I would give a good deal, " said Lawrence, after looking steadily at herfor a few moments, "to know what you really do think. "

Annie had cut all the flowers she wanted, or, rather, all she could get;and she now stood up and looked her companion full in the face. "MrCroft, " she said, "it has been necessary, and it is necessary now for meto have some concealments, and I am sorry for it; but it isn't at allnecessary for me to conceal my opinion of your reasons for wanting toknow about Junius. You were really in pursuit of Miss March, and knowingthat he was in love with her, you wanted to make sure that when youwent to her, he wouldn't be there. It is my firm opinion that is allthere is about it; and the fact of your turning up here just after mycousin left, proves it. "

"Miss Annie, " exclaimed Croft--"I have heard you called by that name, and I vow I won't call you Mrs Null, when there is no need for it--youwere never more mistaken in your life, and I am very sorry that youshould have such a low opinion of me as to think I would wish to takeadvantage of your cousin during his absence. "

"Then why do you do it?" asked Miss Annie, with a little upward pitch ofher chin. 

At this moment the breakfast-bell rang, and Mrs Keswick appeared in theback door, evidently somewhat surprised to see these two conversing inthe garden. 

"I am very much vexed, " said Lawrence, as he followed his companion, whohad suddenly turned towards the house, "that you should think of me inthis way. "

But to this remark Miss Annie had no opportunity to reply. 

After breakfast, Mrs Keswick proved the truth of what her niece had saidabout her unscrupulous straightforwardness when carrying out herprojects. She had invited Mr Croft and Miss March to her house in orderthat the former might have the opportunity which she had discovered hewanted and could not get, of offering himself in marriage to the lady;and she now made it her business to see that Mr Croft's opportunityshould stand up very clear and definite before him; and that allinterfering circumstances should be carefully removed. She informed herniece that she wished her to go with her to a thicket on the other sideof the wheat field which that young lady had advised should be ploughedfor pickles, to look for a turkey-hen which she had reason to believehad been ridiculous enough to hatch out a brood of young at thisimproper season. Annie demurred, for she did not want to go to look forturkeys, nor did she want to give Mr Croft any opportunities; but theold lady insisted, and carried her off. Croft felt that there wassomething very bare and raw-boned about the position in which he wasleft with Miss March; and he thought that lady might readily supposethat Mrs Keswick's object was to leave them together. He imagined that, himself, though why she should be so kind to him he could not feel quitecertain. However, his path lay straight before him, and if the, old ladyhad whitewashed it to make it more distinct, he did not intend to refuseto walk in it. 

"I have been looking at that hill over yonder, " said he, "with a clusterof pine trees on the brow of it. I should think there would be a fineview from that hill. Would you not like to walk up there?"

Lawrence felt that this proposition was quite in keeping with thebareness of the previous proceedings, but he did not wish to stay in thehouse and be subject to the unexpected return of the old lady and herniece. 

"Certainly, " said Miss March; "nothing would please me better. " And sothey walked up Pine Top Hill. 

When they reached this elevated position, they sat down on the rock onwhich Mrs Null had once conversed with Freddy, and admired the view, which was, indeed, a very fine one. After about five minutes of this, which Lawrence thought was quite enough, he turned to his companion andsaid:

"Miss March, I do not wish you to suppose that I brought you up here forthe purpose of viewing those rolling hills and distant forests. "

"You didn't?" exclaimed Roberta, in a tone of surprise. 

"No, " said he; "I brought you here because it is a place where I couldspeak freely to you, and tell you I love you. "

"That was not at all necessary, " said Miss March. "We had the lowerfloor of the house entirely to ourselves, and I am sure that MrsKeswick would not have returned until you had waved a handkerchief, orgiven some signal from the back of the house that it was all over. "

Croft looked at her with a troubled expression. "Miss March, " said he, "do you not think I am in earnest? Do you not believe what I have said?""I have not the slightest doubt you are in earnest, " she answered. "The magnitude of the preparation proves it. " "I am glad you said that, for it gives me the opportunity for making an explanation, " saidLawrence. "Our meeting at this place may be a carefully contrivedstratagem, but it was not contrived by me. I am very well aware that MrKeswick also wishes to marry you--"

"Did you see that in the Richmond _Dispatch_ or in one of the New Yorkpapers?" interrupted Miss March. 

"That is a point, " said Lawrence, overlooking the ridicule, "which weneed not discuss. I am perfectly aware that Mr Keswick is my rival, butI wish you to understand that I am not voluntarily taking any undueadvantage of his absence. I believe him to be a very fair and generousman, and I would wish to be as open and generous as he is. When I came, I expected to find him here, and, standing on equal ground with him, Iintended to ask you to accept my love. "

"Well, then, " said Roberta, "would it not be more fair and generous foryou to go away now, and postpone this proposal until some time when youwould each have an equal chance?"

"No, it would not, " said Lawrence, vehemently. "I have now anopportunity of telling you that I love you ardently, passionately; andnothing shall cause me to postpone it. Will you not consider what Isay? Will you make no answer to this declaration of most true and honestlove?"

"I am considering what you have said, " she answered; "and I am very gladto hear that you did not know of this cunning little trap that MrsKeswick has laid for me. It is all very plain to me, but I do not knowwhy she should have selected you as one of the actors in the plot. Haveyou ever told her that you are a suitor for my hand?"

"Never!" exclaimed Lawrence. "She may have imagined it, for she heard Iwas a frequent visitor to Midbranch. But let us set all that aside. I amon fire with love for you. Will you tell me that you can return thatlove, or that I must give up all hope? This is the most importantquestion of my whole life. I beg you, from the bottom of my heart, todecide it. "

"Mr Croft, " said she, "when you used to come, nearly every day, to seeme at Midbranch, and we took those long walks in the woods, you nevertalked in this way. I considered you as a gentleman whose prudence andgood sense would not allow him to step outside of the path of perfectlyconventional social intercourse. This is not conventional and notprudent. "

"I loved you then, and I love you now;" exclaimed Lawrence. "You musthave known that I loved you, for my declaration does not in the leastsurprise you. "

"Once--it was the last time you visited Midbranch--I suspected, just alittle, that your mind might be affected somewhat in the way you speakof, but I supposed that attack of weakness had passed away. "

"I know what you mean, " said Lawrence, "but I can't endure to talk ofsuch trifles. I love you, Roberta--"

"Miss March, " she interrupted. 

"And I want you to tell me if you love me in return. "

Miss March rose from the rock where she had been sitting, and hercompanion rose with her. After a moment's silence, during which hewatched her with intense eagerness, she said: "Mr Croft, I am going togive you your choice. Would you prefer being refused under a cherrytree, or under a sycamore?"

There was a little smile on her lips as she said this, which Lawrencecould not interpret. 

"I decline being refused under any tree, " he said with vehemence. 

"I prefer the cherry tree, " said she, "there is a very pretty one overthere on the ridge of this hill, and its leaves are nearly all gone, which would make it quite appropriate--but what is the meaning of this?There comes Peggy. It isn't possible that she thinks it's time for me togive out something to Aunt Judy. "

Croft turned, and there was the wooden Peggy, marching steadily up thehill, and almost upon them. 

"What do you want, Peggy?" asked Miss Roberta. 

"Dar's a man down to de house dat wants him, " pointing to Mr Croft. 

Lawrence was very much surprised. "A man who wants me!" he exclaimed. "You must be mistaken. "

"No sah, " replied Peggy, "you's de one. "

For a moment Lawrence hesitated. His disposition was to let any man inthe world, be he president or king, wait until he had settled thismatter with Miss March. But with Peggy present it was impossible to goon with the love-making. He might, indeed, send her back with a message, but the thought came to him that it would be well to postpone for alittle the pressing of his suit, for the lady was certainly in a veryuntoward humor, and he was not altogether sorry to have an excuse forbreaking off the interview at this point. He had not yet been discarded, and he would like to think over the matter, and see if he could discoverany reason for the very disrespectful manner, to say the least of it, with which Miss March had received his amatory advances. "I suppose Imust go and see the man, " he said, "though I can't imagine who it canpossibly be. Will you return to the house?"

"No, " said Miss Roberta, "I will stay here a little longer, and enjoythe view. "

CHAPTER XVII. 

As Lawrence Croft walked down Pine Top Hill his mind was in a good dealof a hubbub. The mind of almost any lover would be stirred up if he camefresh from an interview, in which his lady had pinned him, to use acruel figure, in various places on the wall to see how he would spin andbuzz in different lights. But the disdainful pin had not yet gonethrough a vital part of Lawrence's hopes, and they had strength to spinand buzz a good deal yet. As soon as he should have an opportunity hewould rack his brains to find out what it was that had put Roberta Marchinto such a strange humor. No one who simply desired to decline theaddresses of a gentleman would treat her lover as Miss March had treatedhim. It was quite evident that she wished to punish him. But what hadbeen his crime?

But the immediate business on his hands was to go and see what man itwas who wished to see him. Ordinarily the fact that a man had calledupon him would not be considered by Lawrence a matter for cogitation, but as he walked toward the house it seemed to him very odd that any oneshould call upon him in such an out-of-the-way place as this, where sofew people knew him to be. He was not a business man, but a largeportion of his funds were invested in a business concern, and it mightbe that something had gone wrong, and that a message had been sent him. His address at the Green Sulphur Springs was known, and the man incharge there knew that he was visiting Mrs Keswick. 

These considerations made him a little anxious, and helped to keep hismind in the hubbub which has been mentioned. 

When he reached the front of the house, Lawrence saw a lean, gray horsetied to a tree, and a man sitting upon the porch; and as soon as he madehis appearance the latter came down the steps to meet him. 

"I didn't go into the house, sir, " he said, "because I thought you'djust as lief have a talk outside. "

"What is your business?" asked Croft. 

The man moved a few steps farther from the house, and Lawrence followedhim. 

"Is it anything secret you have to tell me?" he asked. 

"Well, yes, sir, I should think it was, " replied the other, a tall man, with sandy hair and beard, and dressed in a checkered business suit, which had lost a good deal of the freshness of its early youth. "I mayas well tell you at once who I am. I am an anti-detective. Never heardof that sort of person, I suppose?"

"Never, " said Lawrence, curtly. 

"Well, sir, the organization which I belong to is one which is filling along felt want. You know very well, sir, that this country is full ofdetective officers, not only those who belong to a regular police force, but lots of private ones, who, if anybody will pay them for it, will goto Jericho to hunt a man up. Now, sir, our object is to protect societyagainst these people. When we get information that a man is going to behounded down by any of these detectives--and we have private ways ofknowing these things--we just go to that man, and if he is willing tobecome one of our clients, we take him into our charge; and ourbusiness, after that, is to keep him informed of just what is being doneagainst him. He can stay at home in comfort with his wife, settle up hisaccounts, and do what he likes, and the day before he is to be swoopeddown on, he gets notice from us, and comfortably goes to Chicago, orJacksonville, where he can take his ease until we post him of the nextmove of the enemy. If he wants to take extra precautions, and writes aletter to anybody in the place where he lives, dated from London or HongKong, and sends that letter under cover to us, we'll see that it ismailed from the place it is dated from, and that it gets into the handsof the detectives. There have been cases where a gentleman has had sixmonths or a year of perfect comfort, by the detectives being thrown offby a letter like this. That is only one of the ways in which we helpand protect persons in difficulties who, if it wasn't for us, would bedragged off, hand-cuffed, from the bosom of their families; and who, even if they never got convicted, would have to pay a lot of money toget out of the scrape. Now, I have put myself a good deal out of theway, sir, to come to you, and offer you our assistance. "

"Me!" exclaimed Croft. "What are you talking about?"

The man smiled. "Of course, it's all right to know nothing about it, andit's just what we would advise; but I assure you we are thoroughlyposted in your affair, and to let you know that we are, I'll justmention that the case is that of Croft after Keswick, through Candy. "

"Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Lawrence, getting red in the face. "There is no such case!"

He was about to say more, when a few words from the anti-detectivestopped him suddenly. 

"Look here, Mr Keswick, " said the man, leveling a long fore-finger athim, and speaking very earnestly, "don't you go and flatter yourselfthat this thing has been dropped, because you haven't heard of it for amonth or two; and if you'll take my advice, you'll make up your mind onthe spot, either to let things go on and be nabbed, or to put yourselfunder our protection, and live in entire safety until this thing hasblown over, without any trouble, except a little travelling. " At themention of Keswick's name, Lawrence had seen through the whole affair ata single mental glance. The man was after Junius Keswick, and hisbusiness was to Lawrence more startling and repugnant than it couldpossibly be to any one else. It was necessary to be very careful. If heimmediately avowed who he was, the man might yet find Keswick, beforewarning and explanation could be got to him, and not only put thatgentleman in a very unpleasant state of mind, but do a lot of mischiefbesides. He did not believe that Mr Candy had recommenced hisinvestigations without consultation with him, but this person evidentlyknew that such an investigation had been set on foot, and that would besufficient for his purposes. Lawrence decided to be very wary, and hesaid to the man, "Did you ask for me here by name?"

"No, _sir_, " said the other, "I had information that you were here, andthat you were the only gentleman who lived here and although you are inyour own home, I did not know but this was one of those cases in whichnames were dropped and servants changed, to suit an emergency. I askedthe little darkey I saw at the front of the house if she lived here, andshe told me she had only just come. That put me on my guard, and so Imerely asked if the gentleman was in, and she went and got you. We'revery careful about calling names, and you needn't be afraid that any ofour people will ever give you away on that line. "

Lawrence reflected for a moment, and then he said: "What are your termsand arrangements for carrying on an affair of this kind?"

"They are very simple and moderate, " said the man, taking a wallet fromhis pocket. "There is one of our printed slips, which we show but don'tgive away. To become a client all you have to do is to send fifteendollars to the office, or to pay it to me, if you think no time shouldbe lost. That will entitle you to protection for a year. After that wemake the nominal charge of five dollars for each letter sent you, givingyou information of what is going on against you. For extra services, such as mailing letters from distant points, of course there will beextra charges. "

Lawrence glanced over the printed slip, which contained information verysimilar to that the man had given him, and as he did so, he came to theconclusion that there would be nothing dishonest in allowing the fellowto continue in his mistake, and to endeavor to find out what mischiefwas about to be done in his, Lawrence's, name, and under his apparentauthority. "I will become a subscriber, " said he, taking out hispocket-book, "and request that you give me all the information youpossess, here and immediately. "

"That is the best thing to do, " said the man, taking the money, "for, inmy opinion, no time is to be lost. I'll give you a receipt for this. "

"Don't trouble yourself about that, " said Lawrence; "let me have yourinformation. "

"You're very right, " said the man. "It's a great deal better not tohave your name on anything. And now for the points. Candy, who hascharge of Croft's job, is going more into the detective business than heused to be, and we have information that he has lately taken up youraffair in good, solid earnest. He found out that Croft had put somebodyelse on your track, without regularly taking the business out of hishands, and this made him mad; and I don't wonder at it, for Croft, as Iunderstand, has plenty of money, and if he concluded to throw Candyover, he ought to have done it fair and square, and paid him somethinghandsome in consideration for having taken the job away. But he didn'tdo anything of the kind, and Candy considers himself still in hisemployment, and vows he's going to get hold of you before the otherparty does; so, you see, you have got two sets of detectives after you, and they'll be mighty sharp, for the first one that gets you will makethe money. "

"Where are Candy's detectives now?" asked Lawrence. 

"That I can't tell you positively, as I am so far from our New Yorkoffice, to which all information comes. But now that you are asubscriber, I'll communicate with head-quarters and the necessary pointswill be immediately sent to you by telegraph, if necessary. All that youhave to do is to stay here until you hear from us. "

"From the way you spoke just now, " said Lawrence, "I supposed thedetective would be here to-day or to-morrow. "

"Oh no, " said the other, "Candy has not the facilities for findingpeople that we have. But it takes some time for me to communicate withhead-quarters and for you to hear from there; and so, as I said before, there isn't an hour to be lost. But you're all right now. "

"I expected you to give me more definite information than this, " saidLawrence, "but now, I suppose, I must wait until I hear from New York, at five dollars a message. "

"My business is to enlist subscribers, " said the other. "You couldn'texpect me to tell you anything definite when I am in an out-of-the-wayplace like this. "

"Did you come down to Virginia on purpose to find me?" asked Lawrence. 

"No, " said the man, "I am on my way to Mobile, and I only lose one trainby stopping here to attend to your business. "

"How did you know I was here?"

"Ah, " said the anti-detective, with a smile, "as I told you, we havefacilities. I knew you were at this house, and I came here, straight asa die. "

"It is truly wonderful, " said Lawrence, "how accurate your informationis. And now I will tell you something you can have, gratis. You havemade one of the most stupid blunders that I ever heard of. Mr Keswickwent away from here, nearly a week ago, and I am the Mr Croft whom yousupposed to be in pursuit of him. "

The man started, and gave vent to an unpleasant ejaculation. 

"To prove it, " said Lawrence, "there is my card, and, " putting his handinto his pocket, "here are several letters addressed to me. And I wantto let you know that I am not in pursuit of Mr Keswick; that he and Iare very good friends; and that I have frequently seen him of late; andso you can just drop this business at once. And as for Candy, he has noright to take a single step for which I have not authorized him. Imerely employed him to get Mr Keswick's address, which I wished for avery friendly motive. I shall write to Candy at once. "

The man's face was not an agreeable study. He looked angry; he lookedbaffled; and yet he looked incredulous. "Now, come, " said he, "if youare not Keswick, what did you pay me that money for?"

"I paid it to you, " said Lawrence, "because I wanted to find out whatdirty business you were doing in my name. I have had the worth of mymoney, and you can now go. "

The man did not go, but stood gazing at Lawrence in a very peculiar way. "If Mr Keswick isn't here, " he said, "I believe you are here waitingfor him, and I am going to stay and warn him. People don't set privatedetectives on other men's tracks just for friendly motives. "

Lawrence's face flushed and he made a step forward, but suddenlychecking himself, he looked at the man for a moment and then said: "Isuppose you want me to understand that if I become one of yoursubscribers in my own name, you will be willing to withhold theinformation you intended to give Mr Keswick. "

"Well, " said the man, relapsing into his former confidential tones, "business is business. If I could see Mr Keswick, I don't know whetherhe would employ me or not. I have no reason to work for one person morethan another, and, of course, if one man comes to me and anotherdoesn't, I'm bound to work for the man who comes. That's business!"

"You have said quite enough, " said Lawrence. "Now leave this placeinstantly!"

"No, I won't!" said the man, shutting his mouth very tightly, as he drewhimself up and folded his arms on his chest. 

Lawrence was young, well-made, and strong, but the other man was taller, heavier, and perhaps stronger. To engage in a personal contest to compela fellow like this to depart, would be a very unpleasant thing forLawrence to do, even if he succeeded. He was a visitor here, the ladieswould probably be witnesses of the conflict, and although the naturalimpulse of his heart, predominant over everything else at that moment, prompted him to spring upon the impudent fellow and endeavor to thrashhim, still his instincts as a gentleman forbade him to enter into such acontest, which would probably have no good effect, no matter how itresulted. Never before did he feel the weakness of the moral power of ajust cause when opposed to brutal obstinacy. Still he did not retreatfrom his position. "Did you hear what I said?" he cried. "Leave thisplace!"

"You are not master here, " said the other, still preserving his defiantattitude, "and you have no right to order me away. I am not going. "

Despite his inferiority in size, despite his gentlemanly instincts, anddespite his prudent desire not to make an exhibition of himself beforeMiss March and the household, it is probable that Lawrence's anger wouldhave assumed some form of physical manifestation, had not Mrs Keswickappeared suddenly on the porch. It was quite evident to her, from theaspect of the two men, that something was wrong, and she called out:"Who's that?"

"That, madam, " said Lawrence, stepping a little back, "is a veryimpertinent man who has no business here, and whom I've ordered off theplace, and, as he has refused to go, I propose--"

"Stop!" cried the old lady. And turning, she rushed into the house. Before either of the men could recover from their surprise at her suddenaction, she reappeared upon the porch, carrying a double-barreled gun. Taking her position on the top of the flight of steps, with a quickmovement of her thumb she cocked both barrels. Then, drawing herself upand resting firmly on her right leg, with the left advanced, she raisedthe gun; her right elbow well against her side, and with her extendedleft arm as steady as one of the beams of the roof above her. She hookedher forefinger around one of the triggers, her eagle eye glanced alongthe barrels straight at the head of the anti-detective, and, in aclarion voice she sang out "Go!"

The man stared at her. He saw the open muzzles of the gun barrels;beyond them, he saw the bright tops of the two percussion caps; andstill beyond them, he saw the bright and determined eye that was takingsight along the barrels. All this he took in at a glance, and, withoutword or comment, he made a quick dodge of his head, jumped to one side, made a dash for his horse, and, untying the bridle with a jerk, hemounted and galloped out of the open gate, turning as he did so to findhimself still covered by the muzzles of that gun. When he had nearlyreached the outer gate and felt himself out of range, he turned in hissaddle, and looking back at Lawrence, who was still standing where hehad left him, he violently shook his fist in the air. 

"Which means, " said Lawrence to himself, "that he intends to maketrouble with Keswick. "

"That settled him, " said the old lady, with a grim smile, as she loweredthe muzzle of the gun, and gently let down the hammers. "Madam, " saidLawrence, advancing toward her, "may I ask if that gun is loaded?"

"I should say so, " replied the old lady. "In each barrel are twothimblefuls of powder, and half-a-box of Windfall's Teaberry TonicPills, each one of them as big and as hard as a buckshot. They werebrought here by a travelling agent, who sold some of them to my people;and I tell you, sir, that those pills made them so sick that one manwasn't able to work for two days, and another for three. I vowed if thatagent ever came back, I'd shoot his abominable pills into him, and I'vekept the gun loaded for the purpose. Was this a pill man? I scarcelythink he was a fertilizer, because it is rather late in the season forthose bandits. "

"He is a man, " said Lawrence, coming up the steps, "who belongs to aclass much worse than those you have mentioned. He is what is called ablackmailer. "

"Is that so?" cried the old lady, her eyes flashing as she brought thebutt of the gun heavily upon the porch floor. "I'm very glad I did notknow it; very glad, indeed; for I might have been tempted to give himwhat belonged to another, without waiting for him to disobey my order togo. I am very much troubled, sir, that this annoyance should havehappened to you in my house. Pray do not allow it to interfere with theenjoyment of your visit here, which I hope may continue as long as youcan make it convenient. " The words and manner convinced Lawrence thatthat they did not merely indicate a conventional hospitality. The oldlady meant what she said. She wanted him to stay. 

That morning he had become convinced that he had been invited therebecause Mrs Keswick wished him to marry Miss March; and she had donethis, not out of any kind feeling toward him, because that would beimpossible, considering the shortness of their acquaintance, but becauseshe was opposed to her nephew's marriage with Miss March, and becausehe, Lawrence, was the only available person who could be brought forwardto supplant him. "But whatever her motive is, " thought Lawrence, "herinvitation comes in admirably for me, and I hope I shall get the properadvantage from it. "

Shortly after this, Lawrence sat in the parlor, by himself, writing aletter. It was to Junius Keswick; and in it he related the facts of hissearch for him in New York, and the reason why he desired to make hisacquaintance. He concealed nothing but the fact that Keswick's cousinhad had anything to do with the affair. "If she wants him to know that, "he thought, "she can tell him herself. It is not my business to make anyrevelations in that quarter. " He concluded the letter by informing MrKeswick of the visit of the anti-detective, and warning him against anyattempts which that individual might make upon his pocket, assuring himthat the man could tell him nothing in regard to the affair that he nowdid not know. 

After dinner, during which meal Miss March appeared in a very goodhumor, and talked rather more than she had yet done in the bosom of thatfamily, Lawrence had his horse saddled, and rode to the railroadstation, about six miles distant, where he posted his letter; and alsosent a telegram to Mr Junius Keswick, warning him to pay no attention toany man who might call upon him on business connected with Croft andKeswick, and stating that an explanatory letter had been sent. 

The anti-detective had left on a train an hour before, but Lawrence feltcertain that the telegram would reach Keswick before the man couldpossibly get to him, especially as the latter had probably not yet foundout his intended victim's address. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

As Lawrence Croft rode back to Mrs Keswick's house, after having postedto his rival the facts in the case of Croft after Keswick, he did notfeel in a very happy or triumphant mood. The visit of the anti-detectivehad compelled him to write to Keswick at a time when it was not at alldesirable that he should make any disclosures whatever in regard to hislove affair with Miss March, except that very important disclosure whichhe had made to the lady herself that morning. Of course there was nogreat danger that any intimation would reach Miss March of Mr Croft'srather eccentric search for his predecessor in the position which hewished to occupy in her affections. But the matter was particularlyunpleasant just now, and Lawrence wished to occupy his time here inbusiness very different from that of sending explanations to rivals andwarding off unfriendly entanglements threatened by a blackmailer. 

It was absolutely necessary for him to find out what he had done tooffend Miss March. Offended that lady certainly was, and he even feltthat she was glad of the opportunity his declaration gave her to inflictpunishment upon him. But still he did not despair. When she had made himpay the penalty she thought proper for whatever error he had committed, she might be willing to listen to him. He had not said anything to herin regard to his failure to make her the promised visit at Midbranch, for, during the only time he had been alone with her here, the subjectof an immediate statement of his feelings toward her had wholly occupiedhis mind. But it now occurred to him that she had reason to feelaggrieved at his failure to keep his promise to her, and she must haveshown that feeling, for, otherwise, her most devoted friend, Mr JuniusKeswick, would never have made that rather remarkable visit to him atthe Green Sulphur Springs. Of course he would not allude to that visit, nor to her wish to see him, for she had sent him no message, nor did heknow what object she had in desiring an interview. But it was quitepossible that she might have taken umbrage at his failure to come to herwhen expected, and that this was the reason for her present treatment ofhim. To this treatment Lawrence might have taken exception, but now hedid not wish to judge her in any way. His only desire in regard to herwas to possess her, and therefore, instead of condemning her for herunjust method of showing her resentment, he merely considered how heshould set himself right with her. Cruel or kind, just or unjust, hewanted her. 

And then, as he slowly trotted along the lonely and uneven road, itsuddenly flashed upon him, as if in mounting a hill, a far-reachinglandscape, hitherto unseen, had in a moment, spread itself out beforehim, that, perhaps, Miss March had divined the reason of his extremelydiscreet behavior toward her. Was it possible that she had seen hismotives, and knew the truth, and that she resented the prudence andcaution he had shown in his intercourse with her?

If she had read the truth, he felt that she had good reason for herresentment, and Lawrence did not trouble himself to consider if she hadshown too much of it or not. He remembered the story of the defeatedgeneral, and, feeling that so far he had been thoroughly defeated, hedetermined to admit the fact, and to sound a retreat from all thepositions he had held; but, at the same time, to make a bold dash intothe enemy's camp, and, if possible, capture the commander-in-chief andthe Minister of War. 

He would go to Roberta, tell her all that he had thought, and explainall that he had done. There should be no bit of truth which she couldhave reasoned out, which he would not plainly avow and set before her. Then he would declare to her that his love for her had become so great, that, rushing over every barrier, whether of prudence, doubt, orindecision, it had carried him with it and laid him at her feet. When hehad come to this bold conclusion, he cheered up his horse with a thumpof his heel and cantered rapidly over the rest of the road. 

Peggy, having nothing else to do, was standing by the yard gate when hecame in sight, and she watched his approach with feelings of surpriseand disgust. She had seen him ride away, and not considering the factthat he did not carry his valise with him, she supposed he had taken hisfinal departure. She had conceived a violent dislike to Mr Croft, looking upon him in the light of an interloper and a robber, who hadcome to break up that expected marriage between Master Junius and MissRob, which the servants at Midbranch looked forward to as necessary forthe prosperity of the family; and the preliminary stages of which shehad taken upon herself the responsibility of describing with so muchminuteness of detail. With the politeness natural to the Southern negro, she opened the gate for the gentleman, but as she closed it behind him, she cast after him a look of earnest malevolence. "Ef dot ole MissKeswick don' kunjer you, sah, " she said in an undertone, "I's gwine todo it myse'f. So, dar!" And she gave her foot a stamp on the ground. 

Lawrence, all ignorant of the malignant feeling he had excited in this, to him, very unimportant and uninteresting black girl, tied his horseand went into the house. As he passed the open door of the parlor hesaw a lady reading by a window in the farthest corner. Hanging up hishat, he entered, hoping that the reader, whose form was partiallyconcealed by the back of the large rocking chair in which she wassitting, was Miss March. But it was not; it was Mrs Keswick's niece, deeply engrossed by a large-paged novel. She turned her head as heentered, and said: "Good evening. "

"Good evening, Miss Annie, " said Lawrence, seating himself in a chairopposite her on the other side of the window. 

"Mr Croft, " said she, laying her book on her lap, and inclining herselfslightly toward him, "you have no right to call me Miss Annie, and Iwish you would not do it. The servants in the South call ladies by theirfirst names, whether they are married or not, but people would think itvery strange if you should imitate them. My name in this house is MrsNull, and I wish you would not forget it. "

"The trouble with me is, " said Lawrence, with a smile, "that I cannotforget it is not Mrs Null, but, of course, if you desire it, I will giveyou that name. "

"I told you before how much I desired it, " said she, "and why. When myaunt finds out the exact state of this affair, I shall wish to stay nolonger in this house; and I don't want my stay to come to an end atpresent. I am very happy here with the only relatives I have in theworld, who are ever so much nicer people than I supposed they were, andyou have no right to come here and drive me away. "

"My dear young lady, " said Croft, "I wouldn't do such a thing for theworld. I admit that I am very sorry that it is necessary, or appears toyou to be so, that you should be here under false colors, but--"

"_Appears_ to be, " said she, with much emphasis on the first word. "Why, can't you see that it would be impossible for me, as a young unmarriedwoman, to come to the house of a man, whose proprietor, as Aunt Keswickconsiders herself to be, has been trying to marry to me, even before Iwas grown up; for the letters that used to make my father most angrywere about this. I hate to talk of these family affairs, and I only doit so that you can be made understand things. "

"Mrs Null, " said Lawrence, "do not think I wish to blame you. You havehad a hard time of it, and I can see the peculiarities of your residencehere. Don't be afraid of me; I will not betray your secret. While I amhere, I will address you, and will try to think of you as a very graveyoung matron. But I wish very much that you were not quite so grave andsevere when you address me. When I was here last week your manner wasvery different. We were quite friendly then. "

"I see no particular reason, " said Annie, "why we should be friendly. "

"Mrs Null, " said Lawrence, after a little pause, during which helooked at her attentively, "I don't believe you approve of me. "

"No, " said she, "I don't. "

He could not help smiling at the earnest directness of her answer, though he did not like it. "I am sorry, " he said, "that you should haveso poor an opinion of me. And, now, let me tell you what I was going tosay this morning, that my only object in finding your cousin was to knowthe man who had been engaged to Miss March. "

"So that you could find out what she probably objected to in him, andcould then try and not let her see anything of that sort in you. "

"Mrs Null, " said Lawrence, "you are unjust. There is no reason why youshould speak to me in this way. "

"I would like to know, " she said, "what cause there could possibly befor your wanting to become acquainted with a man who had been engaged tothe lady you wished to marry, if you didn't intend to study him up, andtry to do better yourself. "

"My motive in desiring to become acquainted with Mr Keswick, " saidLawrence, "is one you could scarcely understand, and all I can say aboutit is, that I believed that if I knew the gentleman who had formerlybeen the accepted lover of a lady, I should better know the lady. "

"You must be awfully suspicious, " said she. 

"No, I am not, " he answered, "and I knew you would not understand me. Myonly desire in speaking to you upon this subject is that you may notunreasonably judge me. "

"But I am not unreasonable, " said Annie. "You are trying to get MissMarch away from my cousin; and I don't think it is fair, and I don'twant you to do it. When you were here before, I thought you two weregood friends, but now I don't believe it. "

How friendly might be the relations between himself and Keswick, whenthe latter should read his letter about the Candy affair, and shouldknow that he was in this house with Miss March, Lawrence could not say;but he did not allude to this point in his companion's remarks. "I donot think, " he said, "that you have any reason to object to myendeavoring to win Miss March. Even if she accepts me, it will be to theadvantage of your cousin, because if he still hopes to obtain her, thesooner he knows he cannot do so, the better it will be for him. Mycourse is perfectly fair. I am aware that the lady is not at presentengaged to any one, and I am endeavoring to induce her to engage herselfto me. If I fail, then I step aside. "

"Entirely aside, and out of the way?" asked Mrs Null. 

"Entirely, " answered Lawrence. 

"Well, " said Annie, leaning back in her chair, in which before she hadbeen sitting very upright, "you have, at last, given me a good deal ofyour confidence; almost as much as I gave you. Some of the things yousay I believe, others I don't. "

Lawrence was annoyed, but he would not allow himself to get angry. "I amnot accustomed to being disbelieved, " he said, gravely. "It is a veryunusual experience, I assure you. Which of my statements do you doubt?"

"I don't believe, " said Annie, "that you will give her up if she rejectsyou while you are here. You are too wilful. You will follow her, and tryagain. "

"Mrs Null, " said Lawrence, "I do not feel justified in speaking to athird person of these things, but this is a peculiar case, and, therefore, I assure you, and request you to believe me, that if MissMarch shall now positively refuse me, I shall feel convinced that heraffections are already occupied, and that I have no right to press mysuit any longer. "

"Would you like to begin now?" said Annie. "She is coming down stairs. "

"You are entirely too matter-of-fact, " said Lawrence, smiling in spiteof himself, and, in a moment, Roberta entered the room. 

If the young lady in the high-backed rocking-chair had any idea ofgiving Mr Croft and Miss March an opportunity of expressing theirsentiments toward each other, she took no immediate steps to do so; forshe gently rocked herself; she talked about the novel she had beenreading; she blamed Miss March for staying so long in her room on such abeautiful afternoon; and she was the primary cause of a conversationamong the three upon the differences between New York weather and thatof Virginia; and this continued until old Mrs Keswick joined the party, and changed the conversation to the consideration of the fact that afertilizer agent, a pill man, or a blackmailer would find out a person'swhereabouts, even if he were attending the funeral of his grandmother ona desert island. 

The next morning, about an hour after breakfast, Lawrence was walking upand down on the grass in front of the house, smoking a cigar, andtroubling his mind. He had had no opportunity on the previous evening tobe alone with Miss March, for the little party sat together in theparlor until they separated for bed; and so, of course, nothing was yetsettled. He was overstaying the time he had expected to spend here, andhe felt nervous about it. He had hoped to see Miss March afterbreakfast, but she seemed to have withdrawn herself entirely fromobservation. Perhaps she considered that she had sufficiently rejectedhim on the previous morning, and that she now intended, except when shewas sure of the company of the others, to remain in her room until heshould go away. But he had no such opinion in regard to their interviewon Pine Top Hill. He believed that he had been punished, not rejected, and that when he should be able to explain everything to her, he wouldbe forgiven. That, at least, was his earnest hope, and hope makes usbelieve almost anything. 

But, although there were so many difficulties in his way, Lawrence had afriend in that household who still remained true to him. Mrs Keswick, with sun-bonnet and umbrella, came out upon the porch, and saidcheerily: "I should think a gentleman like you would prefer to be withthe ladies than to be walking about here by yourself. They have gone totake a walk in the woods. I should have said that Miss March has gone onahead, with her little maid Peggy. My niece was going with her, but Icalled her back to attend to some housekeeping matters for me, and Ithink she will be kept longer than she expected, for I have just sentLetty to her to be shown how to cut out a frock. But you needn't wait;you can go right through the flower-garden, and take the path over thefields into the woods. " And, having concluded this bit of consciencelessand transparent management, the old lady remarked that she, herself, wasgoing for a walk, and left him. 

Lawrence lost no time in following her suggestions. Throwing away hiscigar, he hurried through the house and the little flower-garden, a gateat the back of which opened into a wide pasture-field. This field slopeddown gently to a branch, or little stream, which ran through the middleof it, and then the ground ascended until it reached the edge of thewoods. Following the well-defined path, he looked across the littlevalley before him, and could see, just inside the edge of the woods--thetrees and bushes being much more thinly attired than in the summertime--the form of a lady in a light-colored dress with a red scarf uponher shoulders, sometimes moving slowly, sometimes stopping. This wasRoberta, and those woods were a far better place than the exposed summitof Pine Top Hill, in which to plight his troth, if it should be so thathe should be able to do it, and there were doubtless paths in thosewoods through which they might afterwards wander, if things should turnout propitiously. At all events, in those woods would he settle thisaffair. 

His intention was still strong to make a very clean breast of it toRoberta. If she had blamed him for his prudent reserve, she should havefull opportunity to forgive him. All that he had been she should know, but far more important than that, he would try to make her know, betterthan he had done before, what he was now. Abandoning all his previouspositions, and mounted on these strong resolutions, thus would he dashinto her camp, and hope to capture her. 

Reaching the little ravine, at the bottom of which flowed the branch, now but two or three feet wide, he ran down the rather steep slope andstepped upon the stout plank which bridged the stream. The instant hedid so, the plank turned beneath him as if it had been hung on pivots, and he fell into the stony bed of the branch. It was an awkward fall, for the leg which was undermost came down at an angle, and his foot, striking a slippery stone, turned under him. In a moment he was on hisfeet, and scrambled up the side of the ravine, down which he had justcome. When he reached the top he sat down and put both his hands on hisright ankle, in which he felt considerable pain. In a few minutes hearose, and began to walk toward the house, but he had not taken a dozensteps before he sat down again. The pain in his ankle was very severe, and he felt quite sure that he had sprained it. He knew enough aboutsuch things to understand that if he walked upon this injured joint, hewould not only make the pain worse, but the consequences might beserious. He was very much annoyed, not only that this thing had happenedto him, but that it had happened at such an inauspicious moment. Ofcourse, he could not now go on to the woods, and he must get somebody tohelp him to the house. Looking about, he saw, at a distance, UncleIsham, and he called loudly to him. As soon as Lawrence was well awayfrom the edge of the ravine, there emerged from some thick bushes on theother side of it, and at a short distance from the crossing-place, anegro girl, who slipped noiselessly down to the branch; moved with quicksteps and crouching body to the plank; removed the two round stones onwhich it had been skilfully poised, and replaced it in its usual firmposition. This done, she slipped back into the bushes, and by the timeIsham had heard the call of Mr Croft, she was slowly walking down theopposite hill, as if she were coming from the woods to see why thegentleman was shouting. 

Miss March also heard the call, and came out of the woods, and when shesaw Lawrence sitting on the grass on the other side of the branch, withone hand upon his ankle, she knew that something had happened, and camedown toward him. Lawrence saw her approaching, and before she was evennear enough to hear him, he began to shout to her to be careful aboutcrossing the branch, as the board was unsafe. Peggy joined her, andwalked on in front of her; and when Miss March understood what Lawrencewas saying, she called back that she would be careful. When they reachedthe ravine, Peggy ran down, stepped upon the plank, jumped on the middleof it, walked over it, and then back again, and assured her mistressthat it was just as good as ever it was, and that she reckoned the citygentleman didn't know how to walk on planks, and that "he jes' done falloff. "

Miss March crossed, stepping a little cautiously, and reached Lawrencejust as Uncle Isham, with strong arms and many words of sympathy, hadassisted him to his feet. "What has happened to you, Mr Croft?" sheexclaimed. 

"I was coming to you, " he said; "and in crossing the stream the plankturned under me, and I am afraid I have sprained my ankle. I can't walkon it. "

"I am very sorry, " she said. 

"Because I was coming to you, " he said, grimly, "or because I hurtmyself?"

"You ought to be ashamed to speak in that way, " she answered, "but Iwon't find fault with you, now that you are in such pain. Is thereanything I can do for you?"

"No, thank you, " said Lawrence. "I will lean on this good man, and Ithink I can hop to the house. "

"Peggy, " said Miss Roberta, "walk on the other side of the gentleman, and let him lean upon your shoulder. I will go on and have somethingprepared to put on his ankle. "

With one side supported by the stout Isham, and his other hand restingon the shoulder of the good little Peggy, who bore up as strongly underit as if she had been a big walking-stick, Lawrence slowly made his wayto the house. Miss March got there sometime before he did, and was veryglad to find that Mrs Keswick had not yet gone out on the walk for whichshe was prepared. That circumspect old lady had found this and that tooccupy her, while she so managed her household matters, that one thingshould follow another, to detain her niece. But when she heard what hadhappened, all other impulses gave way to those which belonged to a headnurse and a mistress of emergencies. She set down her umbrella; shoutedan order to Letty to put a kettle of water on the fire; brought from herown room some flannel and two bottles of embrocation; and then stoppinga moment to reflect, ordered that the office should be prepared for MrCroft, for it would be a shame to make a gentleman, with a sprainedankle, clamber up stairs. 

The office was a small building in the wide front yard, not very farfrom the house, and opposite to the arbor, which has been beforementioned. It was one story high, and contained one large andcomfortable room. Such buildings are quite common on Virginian farms, and although called offices are seldom used in an official way, beinggenerally appropriated to the bachelors of the family or their gentlemanvisitors. This one was occupied by Junius Keswick, when he was at home, and a good many of his belongings were now in it; but as it was atpresent unoccupied, nothing could be more proper than that Mr Croftshould have it. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

About noon of the day of Mr Croft's accident, Uncle Isham had occasionto go to the cabin of the venerable Aunt Patsy, and, of course he toldher what had happened to the gentleman whom he and Aunt Patsy stillsupposed to be Miss Annie's husband. The news produced a very markedeffect upon the old woman. She put down the crazy quilt, upon theunfinished corner of which she was making a few feeble stitches, andlooked at Uncle Isham with a troubled frown. She was certain that thiswas the work of old Mrs Keswick, who had succeeded, at last, inconjuring the young husband; and the charm she had given him, and uponwhich she had relied to avert the ill will of "ole miss, " had provedunavailing. The conjuring had been accomplished so craftily and slyly, the bewitched plank in one place, and Mrs Keswick far off in another, that there had been no chance to use the counteracting charm. And yetAunt Patsy had thought it a good charm, a very good one indeed. 

Early in her married life Mrs Keswick had been the mother of a littlegirl. It had died when it was very small, and it was the only child sheever had. Of this infant she preserved, as a memento, a complete suit ofits clothes, which she regarded with a feeling almost religious. Yearsago, however, Aunt Patsy, in order to protect herself against theconjuring powers of the mistress of the house, in which she then servedas a sort of supervising cook, had possessed herself of the shoesbelonging to the cherished suit of clothes. She knew the sacred light inwhich they were regarded by their owner, and she felt quite sure that if"ole miss" ever attempted, in one of her fits of anger, to exercise herpower of limb twisting or back contortion upon her, that the sight ofthose little blue shoes would create a revulsion of feeling, and, as sheput it to herself, "stop her mighty short. " The shoes had never beenmissed, for the box containing the suit was only opened on one day ofthe year, and then all the old lady could endure was a peep at thelittle white frock which covered the rest of the contents; and AuntPatsy well knew that the sight of those little blue shoes would be toher mistress like two little feet coming back from the grave. 

Patsy had been much too old to act as nurse to the infant, Annie Peyton, then regarded as the daughter of the house, but she had always felt forthe child the deepest affection; and now that she herself was so nearthe end of her career that she had little fear of being bewitched, shewas willing to give up the safeguards she had so long possessed, inorder that they might protect the man whom Miss Annie had loved andmarried. But they had failed, or rather it had been impossible to usethem, and Miss Annie's husband had been stricken down. "It's pow'fulhard to git roun' ole miss, " she groaned. "She too much fur ole folkslike I is. "

At this remark Uncle Isham fired up. Although the conduct of hismistress troubled him at times very much he was intensely loyal to her, and he instantly caught the meaning of this aspersion against her. "Now, look h'yar, Aun' Patsy, " he exclaimed, "wot you talkin' 'bout? Wot olemiss got to do wid Mister Crof' sprainin' he ankle? Ole miss warn't dar;an' when I done fotch him up to de house, she cut roun' an' do more furhim dan anybody else. She got de hot water, an' she dipped de flannelsin it, an' she wrop up de ankle all herse'f, an' when she got him allfixed comfable in de offis, she says to me, says she, 'Now, Isham, youwait on Mister Crof', an' you gib him eberything he want, an' when decool ob de ebenin' comes on you make a fire in dat fireplace, an' staywhar he kin call you wheneber he wants you to wait on him. ' I didn'teben come down h'yar till I axed him would he want me fur half an hour. "

"Well, " said Aunt Patsy, her eyes softening a little, "p'raps she didn'tdo it dis time. It mout a been his own orkardness. I hopes to mussifulgoodness dat dat was so. But wot fur you call him Mister Crof'? Is dathe fus' name?"

"I reckon so, " said Isham. "He one ob de fam'ly now, an' I reckon deycalls him by he fus' name. An' now, look h'yar, Aun' Patsy, I wants younot to disremember dis h'yar. Don' you go imaginin' ebery time anythinghappens to folks, that ole miss done been kunjerin' 'em. Dat ain'tpious, an' 'taint suitable fur a ole pusson like you, Aun' Patsy, wot'sjus' settin' on de poach steps ob heaben, a waitin' till somebody findsout you's dar, an' let's you in. "

Aunt Patsy turned her great spectacles full upon him, and then she said:"You, Isham, ef eber you gits a call to preach to folks, you jus' singout: 'Oh, Lor', I aint fit!' And den you go crack your head wid amill-stone, fur fear you git called agin, fru mistake. "

Uncle Isham made no answer to this piece of advice, but taking up someclothes which Aunt Patsy's great granddaughter had washed and ironed forhim, he left the cabin. He was a man much given to attending to his ownbusiness, and paying very little attention to those affairs of hismistress's household, with which he had no personal concern. When MrCroft first came to the house he, as well as Aunt Patsy, had been toldthat it was Mr Null, the husband of Miss Annie; and although notthinking much about it, he had always supposed this to be the case. Butnow it struck him as a very strange thing that Miss Annie did not attendto her husband, but allowed his mistress and himself to do everythingthat was done for him. It was a question which his mind was totallyincapable of solving, but when he reached the house, he spoke to Lettyon the subject. "Bress your soul!" exclaimed that well-nourishedperson, "dat's not Mister Null, wot married Miss Annie. Dat's MisterCrof', an' he aint married to nobody. Mister Null he aint come yet, butI reckon he'll be along soon. "

"Well den, " exclaimed Isham, much surprised, "how come Aun' Patsy totake he for Miss Annie's husband?"

"Oh, git out!" contemptuously exclaimed Letty, "don' you go put no'count on dem fool notions wot Aun' Patsy got in she old head. Nobodyknows how dey come dar, no more'n how dey eber manage to git out. 'Taintno use splainin nothin' to Aun' Patsy, an' if she b'lieves dat's MissAnnie's husband, you can't make her b'lieve it's anybody else. Jes' youlef her alone. Nuffin she b'lieves aint gwine to hurt her. "

And Isham, remembering his frequent ill success in endeavoring to makeAunt Patsy think as she ought to think, concluded that this was goodadvice. 

At the time of the conversation just mentioned, Lawrence was sitting ina large easy chair in front of the open door of the room of which he hadbeen put in possession. His injured foot was resting upon a cushionedstool, a small table stood by him, on which were his cigar and matchcases; a pitcher of iced water and a glass, and a late copy of asemi-weekly paper. Through the doorway, which was but two steps higherthan the grass sward before it, his eyes fell upon a very pleasingscene. To the right was the house, with its vine-covered porch andseveral great oak trees overhanging it, which still retained their heavyfoliage, although it was beginning to lose something of its summergreen. In front of him, at the opposite end of the grassy yard, was thepretty little arbor in which he had told Mr Junius Keswick of thedifficulties in the way of his speaking his mind to Miss March. Beyondthe large garden, at the back of this arbor, stretched a wide field witha fringe of woods at its distant edge, gay with the colors of autumn. The sky was bright and blue, and fair white clouds moved slowly over itssurface; the air was sunny and warm, with bumble-bees humming about somelate-flowering shrubs; and, high in the air, floated two greatturkey-buzzards, with a beauty of motion surpassed by no other flyingthing, with never a movement of their wide-spread wings, except to givethem the necessary inclination as they rose with the wind, and thenturned and descended in a long sweep, only to rise again and completethe circle; sailing thus for hours, around and around, their shadowsmoving over the fields below them. 

Fearing that he had sustained some injury more than a mere sprain, Lawrence had had the Howlett's doctor summoned, and that generalpractitioner had come and gone, after having assured Mr Croft that nobones had been broken; that Mrs Keswick's treatment was exactly what itshould be, and that all that was necessary for him was to remain quietfor a few days, and be very careful not to use the injured ankle. Thushe had the prospect of but a short confinement; he felt no present pain;and there was nothing of the sick-room atmosphere in his surroundings, for his position close to the door almost gave him the advantage ofsitting in the open air of this bright autumnal day. 

But Lawrence's mind dwelt not at all on these amelioratingcircumstances; it dwelt only upon the fact that he was in one house andMiss March was in another. It was impossible for him to go to her, andhe had no reason to believe that she would come to him. Under ordinarycircumstances it would be natural enough for her to look in upon him andinquire into his condition, but now the case was very different. Sheknew that he desired to see her, that he had been coming to her when hemet with his accident, and she knew, too, exactly what he wanted to say;and it was not to be supposed that a lady would come to a man to bewooed, especially this lady, who had been in such an unfavorable humorwhen he had wooed her the day before. 

But it was quite impossible for Lawrence, at this most important crisisof his life, to sit without action for three or four days, during whichtime it was not unlikely that Miss March might go home. But what was heto do? It would be rediculous to think of sending for her, she knowingfor what purpose she was wanted; and as for writing a letter, that didnot suit him at all. There was too much to be explained, too much to beurged, too much to be avowed, and, probably, too many contingencies tobe met, for him to even consider the subject of writing a letter. Aproposal on paper would most certainly bring a rejection on paper. Hecould think of no plan; he must trust to chance. If his lucky star, andit had shone a good deal in his life, should give him an opportunity ofspeaking to her, he would lose not an instant in broaching the importantsubject. He was happy to think he had a friend in the old lady. Perhapsshe might bring about the desired interview. But although this thoughtwas encouraging, he could not but tremble when he remembered the veryplain and unvarnished way she had of doing such things. 

While these thoughts were passing through his mind, a lady came out uponthe porch, and descended the steps. At the first sight of her throughthe vines, Lawrence had thought it might be Miss March, and his hearthad given a jump. But it was not; it was Mrs Null, and she came over thegrass toward him, and stopped in front of his door. "How are you feelingnow?" she asked. "Does your foot still hurt you?"

"Oh, no, " said Lawrence, "I am in no pain. The only thing that troublesme is that I have to stay just here. "

"It might have been better on some accounts, " said she, "if you had beentaken into the house; but it would have hurt you dreadfully to go upstairs, unless Uncle Isham carried you on his back, which I don'tbelieve he could do. "

"Of course it's a great deal better out here, " said Lawrence. "In factthis is a perfectly charming place to be laid up in, but I want to getabout. I want to see people. " "Many people?" asked she, with asignificant little smile. 

Lawrence smiled in return. "You must know, Mrs Null, from what I havetold you, " he said, "that there is one person I want to see very much, and that is why I am so annoyed at being kept here in this chair. "

"You must be of an uncommonly impatient turn of mind, " she said, "foryou haven't been here three hours, altogether, and hundreds of personssit still that long, just because they want to. "

"I don't want to sit still a minute, " said Lawrence. "I very much wishto speak to Miss March. Couldn't you contrive an opportunity for me todo so?"

"It is possible that I might, " she said, "but I won't. Haven't I toldyou that I don't approve of this affair of yours? My cousin is in lovewith Miss March, and all I should do for you would be directly againsthim. Aunt so managed things this morning that I was actually obliged togive you an opportunity to be with her, but I had intended going withRoberta to the woods, as she had asked me to do. "

"You are very cruel, " said Lawrence. 

"No, I am not, " said she, "I am only just. " "I explained to youyesterday, " said he, "that your course of thinking and acting is notjust, and is of no possible advantage to anybody. How can it injure yourcousin if Miss March refuses me and I go away and never see her again?And, if she accepts me, then you should be glad that I had put an end toyour cousin's pursuit of a woman who does not love him. "

"That is nonsense, " said she. "I shouldn't be glad at all to see himdisappointed. I should feel like a traitor if I helped you. But I didnot come to talk about these things. I came to ask you what you wouldhave for dinner. "

"I had an idea, " said Lawrence, not regarding this remark, "that youwere a young lady of a kindly disposition. "

"And you don't think so, now?" she said. 

"No, " answered Lawrence, "I cannot. I cannot think a woman kind who willrefuse to assist a man, situated as I am, to settle the most importantquestion of his life, especially as I have told you, before, that it isreally to the interest of the one you are acting for, that it should besettled. "

Miss Annie, still standing in front of the door, now regarded Lawrencewith a certain degree of thoughtfullness on her countenance, whichpresently changed to a half smile. "If I were perfectly sure, " she said, "that she would reject you, I would try to get her here, and have thematter settled, but I don't know her very well yet, and can't feel atall certain as to what she might do. "

"I like your frankness, " said Lawrence, "but, as I said before, you arevery cruel. "

"Not at all, " said she, "I am very kind, only--"

"You don't show it, " interrupted Lawrence. 

At this Miss Annie laughed. "Kindness isn't of much use, if it is shutup, is it?" she said. "I suppose you think it is one of those virtuesthat we ought to act out, as well as feel, if we want any credit. Andnow, isn't there something I can do for you besides bringing anotherman's sweetheart to you?"

Lawrence smiled. "I don't believe she is his sweetheart, " he said, "andI want to find out if I am right. "

"It is my opinion, " said Miss Annie, "that you ought to think more aboutyour sprained ankle and your general health, than about having your mindsettled by Miss March. I should think that keeping your blood boiling, in this way, would inflame your joints. "

"The doctor didn't tell me what to think about, " said Lawrence. "He onlysaid I must not walk. "

"I haven't heard yet, " said Miss Annie, "what you would like to have toeat. " "I don't wish to give the slightest trouble, " answered Lawrence. "What do you generally give people in such scrapes as this? Tea andtoast?"

Annie laughed. "Nonsense, " said she. "What you want is the best meal youcan get. Aunt said if there was anything you particularly liked shewould have it made for you. "

"Do not think of such a thing, " said Lawrence. "Give me just what thefamily has. "

"Would you like Miss March to bring it out to you?" she asked. 

"The word cruel cannot express your disposition, " said Lawrence. "I pityMr Null. " "Poor man, " said she; "but it would be a good thing for you ifyou could keep your mind as quiet as his is. " And with that she wentinto the house. 

After dinner, Miss March did come out to inquire into Mr Croft'scondition, but she was accompanied by Mrs Keswick. Lawrence invited theladies to come in and be seated, but Roberta stood on the grass in frontof the door, as Miss Annie had done, while Mrs Keswick entered the room, looked into the ice-water pitcher, and examined things generally, to seeif Uncle Isham had been guilty of any sins of omission. 

"Do you feel quite at ease now?" said Miss March. 

"My ankle don't trouble me, " said Lawrence, "but I never felt souncomfortable and dissatisfied in my life. " And with these latter wordshe gave the lady a look which was intended to be, and which probablywas, full of meaning to her. 

"Wouldn't you like some books?" said Mrs Keswick, now appearing from theback of the room. "You haven't anything to read. There are plenty ofbooks in the house, but they are all old. "

"I think those are the most delightful of books, " said Miss March. "Ihave been looking over the volumes on your shelves, Mrs Keswick. I amsure there are a good many of them Mr Croft would like to read, even ifhe has read them before. There are lots of queer old-time histories andbiographies, and sets of bound magazines, some of them over a hundredyears old. Would you like me to select some for you, Mr Croft? Or shallI write some of the titles on a slip of paper, and let you select foryourself?"

"I shall be delighted, " said Lawrence, "to have you make a choice forme; and I think the list would be the better plan, because books wouldbe so heavy to carry about. "

"I will do it immediately, " said Miss March, and she walked rapidly tothe house. 

"Now then, " said Mrs Keswick, "I'll put a chair out here on the grass, close to the door. It's shady there, and I should think it would bepleasant for both of you, if she would sit there and read to you out ofthose books. She is a fine woman, that Miss March--a much finer womanthan I thought she could be, before I knew her. "

"She is, indeed, " said Lawrence. 

"I suppose you think she is the finest woman in the world?" said the oldlady, with a genial grin. 

"What makes you suppose so?" asked Lawrence. 

"Haven't I eyes?" said Mrs Keswick. "But you needn't make any excuses. You have made an excellent choice, and I hope you may succeed in gettingher. Perhaps you have succeeded?" she added, giving Lawrence an earnestlook, with a question in it. 

Lawrence did not immediately reply. It was not in his nature to confidehis affairs to other people, and yet he had done so much of it, of late, that he did not see why he should make an exception against Mrs Keswick, who was, indeed, the only person who seemed inclined to be friendly tohis suit. He might as well let her know how matters stood. "No, " hesaid, "I have not yet succeeded, and I am very sorry that this accidenthas interfered with my efforts to do so. "

"Don't let it interfere, " said the old lady, her eyes sparkling, whileher purple sun-bonnet was suddenly and severely bobbed. "You have justas good a chance now as you ever had, and all you have to do is to makethe most of it. When she comes out here to read to you, you can talk toher just as well as if you were in the woods, or on top of a hill. Nobody'll come here to disturb you; I'll take care of that. "

"You are very kind, " said Lawrence, somewhat wondering at herenthusiasm. 

"I intended to go away and leave her here with you, " continued MrsKeswick, "if I could find a good opportunity to do so, but she hit onthe best plan herself. And now I'll be off and leave the coast clear. Iwill come again before dark and put some more of that stuff on yourankle. If you want anything, ring this bell, and if Isham doesn't hearyou, somebody will call him. He has orders to keep about the house. "

"You are putting me under very great obligations to you, madam, " saidLawrence. 

But the old lady did not stop to hear any thanks, and hastened to clearthe coast. 

Lawrence had to wait a long time for his list of books, but at last itcame; and, much to his surprise and chagrin, Mrs Null brought it. "MissMarch asked me to give you this, " she said, "so that you can pick outjust what books you want. "

Lawrence took the paper, but did not look at it. He was deeplydisappointed and hurt. His whole appearance showed it. 

"You don't seem glad to get it, " said Miss Annie. Lawrence looked ather, his face darkening. "Did you persuade Miss March, " he said, "tostay in the house and let you bring this?"

"Now, Mr Croft, " said the young lady, a very decided flush coming intoher face, "that is going too far. You have no right to accuse me of sucha thing. I am not going to help in your love affairs, but I don't intendto be mean about it, either. Miss March asked me to bring that list, andat first I wouldn't do it, for I knew, just as well as I know anything, that you expected her to come to you with it, and I was very sure youwanted to see her more than the paper. I refused two or three times, butshe said, at last, that if I didn't take it, she'd send it by some onein the house; so I just picked it up and brought it right along. I don'tlike her as much as I did. "

"Why not?" asked Lawrence. 

"You needn't accept a man if you don't want him, " said Miss Annie, "butthere is no need of being cruel to him, especially when he is laid up. If she didn't intend to come out to you again, she ought not to havemade you believe so. You did expect her to come, didn't you?"

"Most certainly, " said Lawrence, in rather a doleful tone. "Yes, andthere is the chair she was to sit in, " said Miss Annie, "while you saidseven words about the books and ten thousand about the way your heartwas throbbing. I see Aunt Keswick's hand in that, as plain as can be. Idon't say I'd put her in that chair if I could do it, but I certainlyam sorry she disappointed you so. Would you like to have any of thosebooks? If you would, I'll get them for you. "

"I am much obliged, Mrs Null, " said Lawrence, "but I don't think I carefor any books. And let me say that I am very sorry for the way I spoketo you, just now. "

"Oh, don't mention that, " said she. "If I'd been in your place, I shouldhave been mad enough to say anything. But it's no use to sit here and begrumpy. You'd better let me go and get you a book. The "CriticalMagazine" for 1767 and 1768, is on that list, and I know there are lotsof queer, interesting things in it, but it takes a good while to huntthem out from the other things for which you would not care at all. Andthen there are all the "Spectators, " and "Ramblers, " and "The WorldDisplayed" in eight volumes, which, from what I saw when I lookedthrough it, seems to be a different kind of world from the one I livein; and there are others that you will see on your list. But there isone book which I have been reading lately which I think you will findodder and funnier than any of the rest. It is the "Geographical Grammar"by Mr Salmon. Suppose I bring you that. It is a description of the wholeworld, written more than a hundred years ago, by an Irish gentleman who, I think, never went anywhere. "

"Thank you, " said Lawrence, "I shall be obliged to you if you will bekind enough to bring me that one. " He was glad for her to go away, evenfor a little time, that he might think. The smart of the disappointmentcaused by the non-appearance of Miss March was beginning to subside alittle. Looking at it more quietly and reasonably, he could see that, inher position, it would be actually unmaidenly for her to come to him byherself. It was altogether another thing for this other girl, and, therefore, perhaps it was quite proper to send her. But, in spite ofwhatever reasonableness there might have been in it, he chafed underthis propriety. It would have been far better, he thought, if she hadcome and told him that she could not possibly accept him, and thatnothing more must be said about it. But then he did not believe, if shehad given him time to say the words he wished to say, that she wouldhave come to such a decision; and as he called up her lovely face andfigure, as it stood framed in the open doorway, with a background of thesunlit arbor and fields, the gorgeous distant foliage, with the blue skyand its white clouds and circling birds, he thought of the rapture andecstasy which would have come to him, if she had listened to his words, and had given him but a smile of encouragement. 

But here came Mrs Null, with a fat brown book in her hand. "One of thefunniest things, " she said, as she came to the door, "is Mr Salmon'schapter on paradoxes. He thinks it would be quite improper to issue abook of this kind without alluding to geographical paradoxes. Listen tothis one. " And then she read to him the elucidation of the apparentparadox that there is a certain place in this world where the windalways blows from the south; and another explaining the statement thatin certain cannibal islands the people eat themselves. "There issomething he says about Virginia, " said she, turning over the pages, "which I want you to be sure to read. "

"Won't you sit down, " said Lawrence, "and read to me some of thoseextracts? You know just where to find them. "

"That chair wasn't put there for me, " said Miss Annie, with a smile. 

"Nonsense, " said Lawrence. "Won't you please sit down? I ought to haveasked you before. Perhaps it is too cool for you, out there. "

"Oh, not at all, " said she. "The air is still quite warm. " And she tookher seat on the chair which was placed close to the door-step, and sheread to him some of the surprising and interesting facts which Mr Salmonhad heard, in a Dublin coffee-house, about Virginia and the othercolonies, and also some of those relating to the kindly way in whichslave-holders in South America, when they killed a slave to feed theirhounds, would send a quarter to a neighbor, expecting some day toreceive a similar favor in return. When they had laughed over these, sheread some very odd and surprising statements about Southern Europe, andthe people of far-away lands; and so she went on, from one thing toanother, talking a good deal about what she had read, and always on thepoint of stopping and giving the book to Lawrence, until the shortautumnal afternoon began to draw to its close, and he told her that itwas growing too chilly for her to sit out on the grass any longer. 

"Very well, " said she, closing the book, and handing it to him, "you canread the rest of it yourself, and if you want any other books on thelist, just let me know by Uncle Isham, and I will send them to you. Heis coming now to see after you. I wonder, " she said, stopping for amoment as she turned to leave, "if Miss March had been sitting in thatchair, if you would have had the heart to tell her to go away; or if youwould have let her sit still, and take cold. "

Lawrence smiled, but very slightly. "That subject, " said he, "is one onwhich I don't joke. "

"Goodness!" exclaimed Miss Annie, clasping her hands and gazing with anair of comical commiseration at Mr Croft's serious face. "I should thinknot!" and away she went. 

Just before supper time, when Lawrence's door had been closed, and hislamp lighted, there came a knock, and Mrs Keswick appeared. "That planof mine didn't work, " she said, "but I will bring Miss March out here, and manage it so that she'll have to stay till I come back. I have anidea about that. All that you have to do is to be ready when you getyour chance. "

Lawrence thanked her, and assured her he would be very glad to have achance, although he hoped, without much ground for it, that Robertawould not see through the old lady's schemes. 

Mrs Keswick lotioned and rebandaged the sprained ankle, and then shesaid. "I think it would be pleasant if we were all to come out hereafter supper, and have a game of whist. I used to play whist, andshouldn't mind taking a hand. You could have the table drawn up to yourchair, and, --let me see--yes, there are three more chairs. It won't belike having her alone with you, " she said, with the cordial grin inwhich she sometimes indulged, "but you will have her opposite to you foran hour, and that will be something. "

Lawrence approved heartily of the whist party, and assured Mrs Keswickthat she was his guardian angel. 

"Not much of that, " she said, "but I have been told often enough thatI'm a regular old matchmaker, and I expect I am. "

"If you make this match, " said Lawrence, "you will have my eternalgratitude. "

The supper sent out to Lawrence was a very good one, and theanticipation of what was to follow made him enjoy it still more, for hispassion had now reached such a point that even to look at his love, although he could only speak to her of trumps and of tricks, would be arefreshing solace which would go down deep into his thirsty soul. 

But bedtime and old Isham came, and the whist players came not. Itneeded no one to tell Lawrence whose disinclination it was that hadprevented their coming. 

"I reckon, " said Uncle Isham, as he looked in at Letty's cabin on hisway to his own, "dat dat ar Mister Crof' aint much use to gittin'hisse'f hurt. All de time I was helpin' him to go to bed he was agrowlin' like de bery debbil. "

CHAPTER XX. 

Although October in Southern Virginia can generally be counted upon as avery charming month, it must not be expected that her face will wear onecontinuous smile. On the day after Lawrence Croft's misadventure the skywas gray with low-hanging clouds, there was a disagreeable wind from thenorth-east, and the air was filled with the slight drizzle of rain. Themorning was so cool that Lawrence was obliged to keep his door shut, andUncle Isham had made him a small wood fire on the hearth. As he satbefore this fire, after breakfast, his foot still upon a stool, andvigorously puffed at a cigar, he said to himself that it mattered verylittle to him whether the sun shone, or all the rains of heavendescended, so long as Roberta March would not come out to him; and thatshe did not intend to come, rain or shine, was just as plain as themarks on the sides of the fireplace, probably made by the heels of MrJunius Keswick during many a long, reflective smoke. 

On second thoughts, however, Lawrence concluded that a rainy day wasworse for his prospects than a bright one. If the sun shone, andeverything was fair, Miss March might come across the grassy yard andmight possibly stop before his open door to bid him good morning, and totell him that she was sorry that a headache had prevented her fromcoming to play whist the evening before. But this last, he presentlyadmitted, was rather too much to expect, for he did not think she wassubject to headaches, or to making excuses. At any rate he might havecaught sight of her, and if he had, he certainly would have called toher, and would have had his say with her, even had she persisted instanding six feet from the door-step. But now this dreary day had shuthis door and put an interdict upon strolls across the grass. Thereforeit was that he must resign any opportunity, for that day, at least, ofsoothing the harrowing perturbations of his passion by either thecomforting warmth of hope, or by the deadening frigidity of aconsummated despair. This last, in truth, he did not expect, but still, if it came, it would be better than perturbations; they must be soothedat any cost. But how to incur this cost was a difficult questionaltogether. So, puffing, gazing into the fire, and knitting his brows, he sat and thought. 

As a good-looking young man, as a well-dressed young man, as an educatedand cultured man, as a man of the clubs, and of society, and, whenoccasion required, as a very sensible man of business, Mr Croft mightbe looked upon as essentially a commonplace personage, and in our walksabroad we meet a great many like him. But there dwelt within him acertain disposition, which, at times, removed him to quite a distancefrom the arena in which commonplace people go through their prescribedperformances. He would come to a determination, generally quitesuddenly, to attain a desired end in his own way, without any referenceto traditionary or conventional methods; and the more original andstartling these plans the better he liked it. 

This disposition it was which made Lawrence read with so much interestthe account of the defeated general who made the cavalry charge into thecamp of his victorious enemy. Defeat had been his, all through his shortcampaign, and it now seemed that the time had come to make another boldeffort to get the better of his bad luck. As he could not woo Miss Marchhimself, he must get some one else to do it for him, or, if not actuallyto woo the lady, to get her at least into such a frame of mind that shewould allow him to woo her, even in spite of his present disadvantages. This would be a very bold stroke, but Lawrence put a good deal of faithin it. 

If Miss March were properly talked to by one of her own sex, she mightsee, as perhaps she did not now see, how cruel was her line of conducttoward him, and might be persuaded to relent, at least enough to allowhis voice to reach her; and that was all he asked for. He had not theslightest doubt that the widow Keswick would gladly consent to carry anymessage he chose to send to Miss March, and, more than that, to throwall the force of her peculiar style of persuasion into the support ofhis cause. But this, he knew very well, would finish the affair, and notat all in the way he desired. The person he wanted to act as his envoywas Mrs Null. To be sure, she had refused to act for him, but he thoughthe could persuade her. She was quiet, she was sensible, and could talkvery gently and confidingly when she chose; she would say just what hetold her to say, and if a contingency demanded that she should addanything, she would probably do it very prudently. But then it would bealmost as difficult to communicate with her as with Miss March. 

While he was thus thinking, in came the old lady, very cross. "Youdidn't get any rubber of whist last night, did you?" said she, withoutsalutatory preface. "But I can tell you it wasn't my fault. I did allthat I could, and more than I ought, to make her come, but she just puther foot down and wouldn't stir an inch, and at last I got mad and wentto bed. I don't know whether she saw it or not, but I was as mad ashops; and I am that way yet. I had a plan that would have given you achance to talk to her, but that ain't any good, now that it is raining. Let me look at your ankle; I hope that is getting along all right, anyway. "

While the old lady was engaged in ministering to his needs, he told herof his plan. He said he wished to send a message to Miss March by someone, and if he could get the message properly delivered, it would helphim very much. 

"I'll take it, " said she, looking up suddenly from the piece of soft, old linen she was folding; "I'll go to her this very minute, and tellher just what you want me to. "

"Mrs Keswick, " said Lawrence, "you are as kind as you can possibly be, but I do not think it would be right for you to go on an errand likethis. Miss March might not receive you well, and that would annoy mevery much. And, besides, to speak frankly, you have taken up my cause sowarmly, and have been such a good friend to me, that I am afraid yourearnest desire to assist me might perhaps carry you a little too far. Please do not misunderstand me. I don't mean that you would say anythingimprudent, but as you are kind enough to say that you really desire thismatch, it will be very natural for you to show your interest in it to adegree that would arouse Miss March's opposition. "

"Yes, I see, " said the old lady, reflectively, "she'd suspect what wasat the bottom of my interest. She's a sharp one. I've found that out. Ireckon it will be better for me not to meddle with her. I came very nearquarreling with her last night, and that wouldn't do at all. "

"You see, madam, " said Lawrence, well satisfied that he had succeeded inwarding off the old lady's offer without offending her, "that I do notwant any one to go to Miss March and make a proposal for me. I could dothat in a letter. But I very much object to a letter. In fact itwouldn't do at all. All I wish is, that some one, by the exercise of alittle female diplomacy, should induce her to let me speak to her. Now, I think that Mrs Null might do this, very well. "

"That is so, " said the old lady, who, having now finished her bandaging, was seated on a chair by the fireplace. "My niece is smart and quick, and could do this thing for you just as well as not. But she has herquips and her cranks, like the rest of us. I called her out of the roomlast night to know why she didn't back me up better about the whistparty, and she said she couldn't see why a gentleman, who hadn't beenconfined to the house for quite a whole day, should be so desperatelylonely that people must go to his room to play whist with him. It seemedto me exactly as if she thought that Mr Null wouldn't like it. Mr Nullindeed! As if his wishes and desires were to be considered in my house!I never mention that man now, and Annie does not speak of him either. What I want is that he shall stay away just as long as he will; and ifhe will only stay away long enough to make his absence what the lawcalls desertion, I'll have those two divorced before they know it. Canyou tell me, sir, how long a man must stay away from his wife before hecan be legally charged with desertion?"

"No, madam, I can not, " said Lawrence. "The laws, I believe, differ inthe various States. "

"Well, I'm going to make it my business to find out all about it, " saidMrs Keswick. "Mr Brandon has promised to attend to this matter for me, and I must write to him, to know what he has been doing. Well, Mrs Nulland Miss March seem to be very good friends, and I dare say my niececould manage things so as to give you the chance you want. I'll go tothe house now, and send her over to you, so that you can tell her whatyou want her to say or do. "

"Do you think she will come, madam?" asked Lawrence. 

The old lady rose to her feet, and knitted her brows until somethinglike a perpendicular mouth appeared on her forehead. "No, " said she, "now I come to think of it I don't believe she will. In fact I know shewon't. Bother take it all, sir! What these young women want is a goodwhipping. Nothing else will ever bring them to their senses. Whatpossible difference could it make to Mr Null whether she came to you andtook a message for you, or whether she didn't come; especially in a caselike this, when you can't walk, or go to anybody?"

"I don't think it ought to make any difference whatever, " said Lawrence. "In fact I don't believe it would. "

"It's no use talking about it, Mr Croft, " said the old lady, movingtoward the door. "I can go to my niece and talk to her, but the firstthing I'd know I'd blaze out at her, and then, as like as not, she'dblaze back again, and then the next thing would be that she'd pack upher things and go off to hunt up her fertilizer agent. And that mustn'tbe. I don't want to get myself in any snarls, just now. There is nothingfor you to do, Mr Croft, but to wait till it clears off, so that daintyyoung woman can come out of doors, and then I think I can manage it sothat you can get a chance to speak to her. "

"I am very much obliged to you, " said Lawrence. "I suppose I must wait. "

"I'll see that Isham brings you a lot of dry hickory, so that you canhave a cheerful fire, even if you can't have cheerful company, " said MrsKeswick, as she closed the door after her. 

Lawrence looked through the window at the sky, which gave no promise ofclearing. And then he gazed into the fire, and considered his case. Hehad spent a large portion of his life in considering his case, and, therefore, the operation was a familiar one to him. This time the casewas not a satisfactory one. Everything in this love affair with MissMarch had gone on in a manner in which he had not intended, and of whichhe greatly disapproved. No one in the world could have planned theaffair more prudently than he had planned it. He had been so careful notto do anything rash, that he had, at first, concealed, even from thelady herself, the fact that he was in love with her, and nothing couldbe farther from his thoughts and desires than that any one else shouldknow of it. And yet, how had it all turned out? He had taken into hisconfidence Mr Junius Keswick, Mr Brandon, old Mrs Keswick, Mrs Null, asshe wished to be called, and almost lastly, the lady herself. "If Ishould lay bare my heart to the colored man, Isham, " he said to himself, "and the old centenarian in the cabin down there, I believe there wouldbe no one else to tell. Oh, yes, there is Candy, and the anti-detective. By rights, they ought to know. " He did not include the good little Peggyin this category, because he was not aware that there was such a person. 

After about an hour of these doleful cogitations, he again turned tolook out of his front window, which commanded a view of the largerhouse, when he saw, coming down the steps of the porch, a not very tallfigure, wrapped in a waterproof cloak, with the hood drawn over itshead. He did not see the face of the figure, but he thought from thelight way in which it moved that it was Mrs Null; and when it steppedupon the grass and turned its head, he saw that he was right. 

"Can her aunt have induced her to come to me?" was Lawrence's firstthought. But his second was very different, for she began to walk towardthe large gate which led out of the yard. Instantly Lawrence rose, andhopped on one foot to the window, where he tapped loudly on the glass. The lady turned, and then he threw up the sash. 

"Won't you step here, please?" he called out. 

Without answering, she immediately came over the wet grass to thewindow. 

"I have something to say to you, " he said, "and I don't want to keep youstanding in the rain. Won't you come inside for a few minutes?"

"No, thank you, " said she. "I don't mind a slight rain like this. Ihave lived so long in the city that I can't imagine how country peoplecan bear to shut themselves in, when it happens to be a little wet. Ican't stand it, and I am going out for a walk. " "It is a very sensiblething to do, " said Lawrence, "and I wish I could go with you and have agood long talk. "

"What about?" said she. 

"About Miss March. "

"Well, I am rather tired of that subject, " she said, "and so I reckon itis just as well that you should stay here by your fire--I see you haveone there--and that I should take my walk by myself. "

"Mrs Null, " said Lawrence, "I want to implore you to do a favor for me. I don't see how it can be disagreeable to you, and I am sure it willconfer the greatest possible obligation upon me. "

"What is it?" she asked. 

"I want you to go to Miss March, and endeavor, in some way--you willknow how, better than I can tell you--to induce her to let me have a fewwords with her. If it is only here at this open window it will do. "

Mrs Null laughed. "Imagine, " she said, "a woman putting on a waterproofand overshoes, and coming out in the rain, to stand with an umbrellaover her head, to be proposed to! That would be the funniest proceedingI ever heard of!"

Lawrence could not help smiling, though he was not in the mood for it. "It may seem amusing to you, " he said, "but I am very much in earnest. Iam in constant fear that she will go away while I am confined to thishouse. Do you know how long she intends to stay?"

"She has not told me, " was the answer. 

"If you will carry it, " he said, "I will give you a message for her. "

"Why don't you write it?" said Miss Annie. 

"I don't want to write anything, " he said. "I should not know how it hadbeen received, nor would it be likely to get me any satisfaction. I wanta live, sympathetic medium, such as you are. Won't you do this favor forme?"

"No, I won't, " said Miss Annie, her very decided tone appearing to givea shade of paleness to her features. "How often must I tell you that Iwill not help you in this thing?"

"I would not ask you, " said Lawrence, "if I could help myself. "

"It is not right that you should ask me any more, " she said. "I am notin favor of your coming here to court Miss March, while my cousin isaway, and I should feel like a traitor if I helped you at all, especially if I were to carry messages to her. Of course, I am verysorry for you, shut up here, and I will do anything I can to make youmore comfortable and contented; but what you ask is too hard for me. "And, as she said this, a little air of trouble came into the large eyeswith which she was steadfastly regarding him. "I don't want to seemunkind to you, and I wish you would ask me something that I can do foryou. I'll walk down to Howlett's and get you anything you may like tohave. I'll bring you a lot of novels which I found in the house, andwhich I expect, anyway, you will like better than those old-time books. And I'll cook you anything that is in the cook-book. But I really cannotgo wooing for you, and if you ask me to do that, every time I come nearyou, I really must--"

"My dear Mrs Null, " interrupted Lawrence, "I promise not to say any moreto you on this subject. I see it is distasteful to you, and I beg yourpardon for having mentioned it so often. You have been very kind to me, indeed, and I should be exceedingly sorry to do anything to offend you. It would be very bad for me to lose one of my friends, now that I amshut up in this box, and feel so very dependent. "

"Oh, indeed, " said Miss Annie. "But I suppose if you were able to steparound, as you used to do, it wouldn't matter whether you offended me ornot. "

"Mrs Null, " said Lawrence, "you know I did not mean anything like that. Do you intend to be angry with me, no matter what I say?"

"Not a bit of it, " she answered, with a little smile that brought backto her face that warm brightness which had grown upon it since she hadcome down here. "I haven't the least wish in the world to be angry withyou, and I promise you I won't be, provided you'll stop everlastinglyasking me to go about helping you to make love to people. "

Lawrence laughed. "Very good, " said he. "I have promised to ask nothingmore of that sort. Let us shake hands on it. "

He stretched his hand from the window, and Miss Annie withdrew from thefolds of her waterproof a very soft and white little hand, and put itinto his. "And now I must be off, " she said. "Are you certain you don'twant anything from the store at Howlett's?"

"Surely, you are not going as far as that, " he said. 

"Not if you don't want anything, " she answered. "Have you tobacco enoughto last through your imprisonment? They keep it. "

"Now, miss, " said Lawrence; "do you want to make me angry by supposing Iwould smoke any tobacco that they sell in that country store?"

"It ought to be better than any other, " said Miss Annie. "They grow itin the fields all about here, and the storekeepers can get it perfectlyfresh and pure, and a great deal better for you, no doubt, than thestuff they manufacture in the cities. "

"When you learn to smoke, " said Lawrence, "your opinion concerningtobacco will be more valuable. "

"Thank you, " she said, "and I will wait till then before I give you anymore of it. Good morning. " And away she went. 

Lawrence shut down the window, and hopped back to the fire. "There is mylast chance gone, " said he to himself. "I suppose I may as well take oldMrs Keswick's advice, and wait for fair weather. But, even then, who cansay what sort of sky Roberta March will show?" And, not being able toanswer this question, he put two fresh sticks on the fire, and thensedately sat and watched their gradual annihilation. As for Miss Annie, she took her walk, and stepped along the road as lightly and blithely asif the skies had been blue, and the sun shining; and almost before sheknew it, she had reached the store at Howlett's. Ascending the highsteps to the porch, quite deserted on this damp, unpleasant morning, sheentered the store, the proprietor of which immediately jumped up fromthe mackerel kit at the extreme end of the room, where he had beensitting in converse with some of his neighbors, and hurried behind thecounter. 

"Have you any tea, " said Miss Annie, "better than the kind which youusually sell to Mrs Keswick?"

"No, ma'am, " said he. "We send her the very best tea we have. "

"I am not finding fault with it, " she said, "but I thought you mighthave some extra kind, more expensive than people usually buy for commonuse. "

"No, ma'am, " said he, "there is fancy teas of that kind, but you'd haveto send to Philadelphia or New York for them. "

"How long would that take?" she asked. 

"I reckon it would be four or five days before you'd get it, ma'am, "said the storekeeper. 

"I am afraid, " said Miss Annie, looking reflectively along the counter, "that that would be too long. " And then she turned to go, but suddenlystopped. "Have you any guava jelly?" she asked. 

The man smiled. "We don't have no call for anything as fancy as that, ma'am, " he said. "Is there anything else?"

"Not to-day, " answered Miss Annie, after throwing a despairing glanceupon the rolls of calicoes, the coils of clothes-lines, the battered tinboxes of tea and sugar, the dusty and chimneyless kerosene lamps, andthe long rows of canned goods with their gaudy labels; and then shedeparted. 

When she had gone, the storekeeper returned to his seat on the mackerelkit, and was accosted by a pensive neighbor in high boots who sat uponthe upturned end of a case of brogans. "You didn't make no sale thattime, Peckett, " said he. 

"No, " said the storekeeper, "her idees is a little too fancy for ourstock of goods. "

"Whar's her husband, anyway?" asked a stout, elderly man in linentrousers and faded alpaca coat, who was seated on two boxes of pearlstarch, one on top of the other. "I've heard that he was a member of thelegislatur'. Is that so?"

"He's not that, you can take my word for it, " said Tom Peckett. "OldMiss Keswick give me to understand that he was in the fertilizingbusiness. "

"That ought to be a good thing for the old lady, " said the man on thestarch boxes. "She'll git a discount off her gwarner. "

"I never did see, " said the pensive neighbor on the brogan case, "howsuch things do git twisted. It was only yesterday that I met a man atTyson's Mill, who'd just come over from the Valley, and he said he'dseen this Mr Noles over thar. He's a hoss doctor, and he's going upthrough all the farms along thar. "

"I reckon when he gits up as fur as he wants to go, " said the man on thestarch boxes, "he'll come here and settle fur awhile. "

"That won't be so much help to the old lady, " said the storekeeper, "for it wouldn't pay to keep a neffy-in-law just to doctor one sorrelhorse and a pa'r o' oxen. "

"I reckon his wife must be 'spectin' him, " said the man on the brogancase, "from her comin' after fancy vittles. "

"If he do come, " said the stout, elderly neighbor, "I wish you'd let meknow, Tom Peckett, fur my black mar has got a hitch in her shoulder Ican't understand, and I'd like him to look at her. "

The storekeeper smiled at the pensive man, and the pensive man smiledback at the storekeeper. "You needn't trouble yourself about that youngwoman's husband, " said Mr Peckett. "There'll be a horse doctor comingalong afore you know it, and he'll attend to that old mar of yournwithout chargin' you a cent. "

CHAPTER XXI. 

The second afternoon of Lawrence Croft's confinement in the littlebuilding in Mrs Keswick's yard, passed drearily enough. The sky retainedits sombre covering of clouds, and the rain came down in a melancholy, capricious way, as if it were tears shed by a child who was cryingbecause it was bad. The monotony of the slowly moving hours was brokenonly by a very brief visit from the old lady, who was going somewhere inthe covered spring wagon, and who looked in, before she started, to seeif her patient wanted anything; and by the arrival of a bundle of oldnovels sent by Mrs Null. These books Lawrence looked over withindifferent interest, hoping to find one among them that was not a lovestory, but he was disappointed. They were all based upon, and most ofthem permeated with, the tender passion, and Lawrence was not in themood for reading about that sort of thing. A person afflicted with adisease is not apt to find agreeable occupation in reading hospitalreports upon his particular ailment. 

The novels were put aside, and although Lawrence felt that he had smokedalmost too much during that day, he was about to light another cigar, when he heard a carriage drive into the yard. Turning to the window hesaw a barouche, evidently a hired one, drawn by a pair of horses, verylean and bony, but with their heads reined up so high that they had anappearance of considerable spirit, and driven by a colored man, sittingupon a very elevated seat, with a jaunty air and a well-worn whip. Thecarriage drove over the grass to the front of the house--there was noroadway in the yard, the short, crisp, tough grass having long resistedthe occasional action of wheels and hoofs--and there stopping, agentleman, with a valise, got out. He paid the driver, who immediatelyturned the vehicle about, and drove away. The gentleman put his footupon the bottom step as if he were about to ascend, and then, apparentlychanging his mind, he picked up his valise, and came directly toward theoffice, drawing a key from his pocket as he walked. It was JuniusKeswick, and in a few minutes his key was heard in the lock. As it wasnot locked the key merely rattled, and Lawrence called out: "Come in. "The door opened, and Junius looked in, evidently surprised. "I beg yourpardon, " said he, "I didn't know you were in here. "

"Please walk in, " said Lawrence. "I know I am occupying your room, andit is I who should ask your pardon. But you see the reason why it wasthought well that I should not have stairs to ascend. " And he pointed tohis bandaged foot. 

"Have you hurt yourself?" asked Junius, with an air of concern. 

And then Lawrence gave an account of his accident, expressing at thesame time his regret that he found himself occupying the room whichbelonged to the other. 

"Oh, don't mention that, " said Junius, who had taken a seat near thewindow. "There are rooms enough in the house, and I shall be perfectlycomfortable. It was quite right in my aunt to have you brought in here, and I should have insisted upon it, myself, if I had been at home. Iexpected to be away for a week or more, but I have now come back onaccount of your letter. "

"Does that need explanation?" asked Lawrence. 

"Not at all, " said Junius. "I had no difficulty in understanding it, although I must say that it surprised me. But I came because I am notsatisfied with the condition of things here, and I wish to be on thespot. I do not understand why you and Miss March should be invited hereduring my absence. "

"That I do not understand either, " said Lawrence, quickly, "and I wishto impress it on your mind, Mr Keswick, that when I came here, I notonly expected to find you, but a party of invited guests. I will say, however, that I came with the express intention of meeting Miss March, and having that interview with her which I could not have in her uncle'shouse. "

"I was not entirely correct, " said Junius, "when I said that I did notknow why these rather peculiar arrangements had been made. My aunt is avery managing person, and I think I perceive her purpose in this pieceof management. " "She is opposed to a marriage between you and MissMarch?"

"Most decidedly, " said Junius. "Has she told you so?"

"No, " said Lawrence, "but it has gradually dawned upon me that such isthe case. I believe she would be glad to have Miss March married, andout of your way. "

Junius made no answer to this remark, but sat silent for a few moments. Then he said: "Well, have you settled it with Miss March?"

"No, I have not, " said Lawrence. "If the matter had been decided, oneway or the other, I should not be here. I have no right to trespass onyour aunt's hospitality, and I should have departed as soon as I haddiscovered Miss March's sentiments in regard to me. But I have not beenable to settle the matter, at all. I had one opportunity of seeing thelady, and that was not a satisfactory interview. Yesterday morning, Imade another attempt, but before I could get to her I sprained my ankle. And here I am; I can not go to her, and, of course, she will not come tome. You cannot imagine how I chafe under this harassing restraint. "

"I can imagine it very easily, " said Junius. 

"The only thing I have to hope for, " said Lawrence, "is that to-morrowmay be a fine day, and that the lady may come outside and give me thechance of speaking to her at this open door. "

Junius smiled grimly. "It appears to me, " he said, "as if it were likelyto rain for several days. But now I must go into the house and see thefamily. I hope you believe me, sir, when I say I am sorry to find you inyour present predicament. "

"Yes, " said Lawrence, smiling, although he did not feel at all gay, "for, otherwise, I might have been finally rejected and far away. "

"If you had been rejected, " said Junius, "I should have been very glad, indeed, to have you stay with us. "

"Thank you, " said Lawrence. 

"I will look in upon you again, " said Junius, as he left the room. 

Lawrence's mind, which had been in a very unpleasant state of troubledrestiveness for some days, was now thrown into a sad turmoil by thisarrival of Junius Keswick. As he saw that tall and good-looking youngman going up the steps of the house porch, with his valise in his hand, he clinched both his fists as they rested on the arm of his chair, andobjurgated the anti-detective. 

"If it had not been for that rascal, " he said to himself, "I should nothave written to Keswick, and he would not have thought of coming back atthis untimely moment. The only advantage I had was a clear coast, andnow that is gone. Of course Keswick was frightened when he found I wasstaying in the same house with Roberta March, and hurried back to attendto his own interests. The first thing he will do now will be to proposeto her himself; and, as they have been engaged once, it is as like asnot she will take him again. If I could use this foot, I would go intothe house, this minute, and have the first word with her. " At this herose to his feet and made a step with his sprained ankle, but the suddenpain occasioned by this action caused him to sit down again with agroan. Lawrence Croft was not a man to do himself a physical injurywhich might be permanent, if such doing could possibly be avoided, andhe gave up the idea of trying to go into the house. 

"I tell you what it is, Letty, " said Uncle Isham, when he returned tothe kitchen after having carried Lawrence's supper to him, "dat arMister Croft in de offis is a gittin wuss an' wuss in he min', eberyday. I neber seed a man more pow'ful glowerin' dan he is dis ebenin. "

"I reckin' he j'ints is healin' up, " said Letty. "Dey tells me dat dehealin' pains mos' gen'rally runs into de min'. "

About nine o'clock in the evening Junius Keswick paid Lawrence a visit;and, taking a seat by one side of the fireplace, accepted the offer of acigar. 

"How are things going on in the house?" asked Lawrence. 

"Well, " said Keswick, speaking slowly, "as you know so much of ourfamily affairs, I might as well tell you that they are in a somewhatupset condition. When I went in, I saw, at first, no one but my cousin, and she seemed so extraordinarily glad to see me that I thoughtsomething must be wrong, somewhere; and when my aunt returned--she wasnot at home when I arrived--she was thrown into such a state of mind onseeing me, that I didn't know whether she was going to order me out ofthe house or go herself. But she restrained herself, wonderfully, considering her provocation, for, of course, I have entirely disorderedher plans by appearing here, when she had arranged everything for you tohave Miss March to yourself. But, so far, the peace has been keptbetween us, although she scarcely speaks to me. "

"And Miss March?" said Lawrence. "You have seen her?"

"Yes, " said Junius, "I saw her at supper, and for a short timeafterwards, but she soon retired to her room. "

"Do you think she was disturbed by your return?" asked Lawrence. 

"I won't say that, " said Junius, "but she was certainly not herself. MrsNull tells me that she expects to go home to-morrow morning, havingwritten to her uncle to send for her. "

"That is bad, bad, very bad, " said Lawrence. 

After that there was a pause in the conversation, during which Mr Croft, with brows very much knit, gazed steadfastly into the fire. "MrKeswick, " he said presently, "what you tell me fills me withconsternation. It is quite plain that I shall have no chance to see MissMarch, and, as there is no one else in the world who will do it for me, I am going to ask you to go to her, to-morrow morning, and speak to herin my behalf. "

When this had been said, Junius Keswick dropped his cigar upon thefloor, and sat up very straight in his chair, gazing fixedly atLawrence. "Upon my word!" he said, "I knew you were a cool man, but thatrequest freezes my imagination. I cannot conceive how any man can askanother to try to win for him a lady whom he knows the other mandesires to win for himself. You have made some requests before thatwere rather astounding, but this one overshadows them all. "

"I admit, " said Lawrence, "that what I ask is somewhat out of the way, but you must consider the circumstances. Suppose I had met you in mortalcombat, and I had dropped my sword where you could reach it and I couldnot; would you pick it up and give it to me? or would you run methrough?"

"I don't think that comparison is altogether a good one, " said Junius. 

"Yes, it is, " said Lawrence, "and covers the case entirely. I am here, disabled, and if you pick up my sword, as I have just asked you to do, it is not to be assumed that your action gives me the victory. It merelygives me an equal chance with yourself. "

"Do you mean, " said Junius, "that you want me to go to Miss March, anddeliberately ask her if she will marry you?"

"No, " said Lawrence, "I have done that myself. But there are certainpoints in regard to which I want to be set right with Miss March. Andnow I wish you to understand me, Mr Keswick. I speak to you, not only asa generous and honorable man, which I have found you to be, but as arival. I cannot believe that you would be willing to profit by mypresent disadvantages, and, as I have said two or three times before, itwould certainly be for your interest, as a suitor for the lady, to havethis matter settled. "

"Wouldn't it be better, then, " said Junius, "if I were to goimmediately, and speak to her for myself?"

"No, " said Lawrence, "I don't think that would settle the affair at all. From what I understand of your relations with Miss March, she knows youare her lover, and yet she neither accepts nor declines you. If you wereto go to her now, it is not likely she would give you any definiteanswer. But in regard to me, it would be different. She would say yes orno. And if she made the latter answer I think you could walk over thecourse. I am not vain enough to say that I have been an obstacle to yoursuccess, but I assure you that I have tried very hard to make myselfsuch an obstacle. "

"It seems to me, " said Junius, imitating his companion in the matter ofknitting his brows and gazing into the fire, "that this affair could bemanaged very simply. Miss March is not going at the break of day. Whydon't you contrive to see her before she starts, and say for yourselfwhat you have to say?"

"Nothing would please me better than that, " said Croft, "but I don'tbelieve she would give me any chance to speak with her. Since myaccident, she has persistently and pointedly refused to grant me eventhe shortest interview. "

"That ought to prove to you, " said Keswick, "that she does not desireyour attentions. You should consider it as a positive answer. "

"Not at all, " said Lawrence, "not at all. And I don't think you wouldconsider it a positive answer if you were in my place. I think she hastaken some offence which is entirely groundless, and if you will consentto act for me it will enable me to set straight this misunderstanding. "

"Confound it!" exclaimed Keswick. "Can't you write to her? or get someone else to take your love messages?"

"No, " said Lawrence, "I cannot write to her, for I am not sure thatunder the circumstances she would answer my letter. And I have alreadyasked Mrs Null, the only other person I could ask, to speak for me, butshe has declined. "

"By the Lord Harry!" exclaimed Junius, "you are the rarest wooer I everheard of. "

"I assure you, " said Lawrence, his face flushing somewhat, "that it isnot my desire to carry on my wooing in this fashion. My whole soul isopposed to it, but circumstances will have it so. And as I don't intend, if I can help it, to have my life determined by circumstances, I must goahead in despite of them, although I admit that it makes the road veryrough. "

"I should think it would, " said Junius. And then there was a pause inthe conversation. 

"Well, Mr Keswick, " said Lawrence, presently, "Will you do this thingfor me?"

"Am I to understand, " said Junius, "that if I don't do it, it won't bedone?"

"Yes, " said Lawrence, "you are positively my last chance. I have rackedmy brains to think of some other way of presenting my case to MissMarch, but there is no other way. I might stand at my door, and call toher as she entered the carriage, but that would be the height ofabsurdity. I might hop on one foot into the house, but, even if I wishedto present myself in that way, I don't believe I could get up that longflight of steps. It would be worse than useless to write, for I shouldnot know what was thought of my letter, or even if it had been read. MrsKeswick cannot carry my message; Mrs Null will not; and I have only youto call upon. I know it is a great deal to ask, but it means so much tome--to both of us, in fact--that I ask it. "

"You were kind enough to say a little while ago, " said Junius, "that youconsidered me an honorable man. I try to be such, and, therefore, willfrankly state to you that I can think of but three motives, satisfactoryto myself, for undertaking this business for you, and not one of them isa generous one. In the first place, I might care to do it in order tohave this matter settled, for you are such an extraordinary suitor, thatI don't know in what form you may turn up, the next time. Secondly, fromwhat you tell me of Miss March's repugnance to meet you, I don't believemy mission will have an issue favorable to you, and the moreunfavorable it is, the better I shall like it. My third reason foracting for you is, that the whole affair is such an original one that itwill rather interest me to be engaged in it. This last reason would nothold, however, if I had the least expectation of being successful. "

"You consent then?" said Lawrence, quickly, turning towards the other. "You'll go to Miss March for me?"

"Yes, I think I will, " said Junius, "if you will accept the services ofa man who is decidedly opposed to your interests. "

"Of course I never expected you to favor them, " said Lawrence, "nor isit necessary that you should. All I ask is, that you carry a message toMiss March, and if she needs any explanation of it, that you willexplain in the way that I shall indicate; that you shall tell me how shereceived my message; and that you shall bring me back her answer. Thereis no need of your making any proposition to her; that has already beendone; what I want is, that she should not go away from here with amisunderstanding between us, and that she shall give me at least thepromise of a hearing. "

"Very good, " said Junius, "now, what is it that you want me to say?"

This was not an easy question for Lawrence to answer. He knew very wellwhat he wanted to say, if he had a chance of saying it himself. Hewanted to pour his whole heart out to Roberta March, and, showing herits present passion, to ask her to forgive those days in which his mindonly had appeared to be engaged. He believed he could say things thatwould force from her the pardon of his previous short-comings, if sheconsidered them as such. She had been very gracious to him in time past, and he did not see why she should not be still more gracious now, if hecould remove the feelings of resentment, which he believed wereoccasioned by her womanly insight into the motives of his conduct towardher, during those delightful summer days at Midbranch. 

But to get another person to say all this was a very different thing. Hewas sure, however, that if it were not said now, it would never be said. It would be death to all his hopes if Miss March went away, feelingtowards him as she now felt; therefore he stiffened his purpose whichwas quite used to being stiffened; hardened his sensibilities; and tookhis plunge. Gazing steadfastly at the back of the fireplace while hespoke, he endeavored to make Junius Keswick understand the nature, andthe probable force of the objections to his line of action as a suitor, which had grown up in the mind of Miss March; and he also endeavored toshow how completely and absolutely he had been changed by the vigor andardor of his present affection; and how he was entitled to be consideredby Miss March as a lover who had but one thought and purpose, and thatwas to win her; and, as such, he asked her to give him an opportunity torenew his proposal to her. "Now, then, " said Lawrence, "I have placedthe case before you, and I beg you will present it, as nearly aspossible, in the form in which I have given it to you. "

"Mr Croft, " said Junius, "this case of yours is worse than I thought itwas. What woman of spirit would accept a man who admitted, that duringthe whole of his acquaintance with her he had had his doubts in regardto suitability, etc. , but who, when a crisis arrived, and another manturned up, had determined to overlook all his objections and take her, anyway. "

"That is a very cold-blooded way of putting it, " said Lawrence, "and Idon't believe at all that she will look upon it in that light. If youwill set the matter before her as I have put it to you, I believe shewill see it as I wish her to see it. "

"Very well, " said Junius, rising, and taking out his watch, "I will makeyour statement as accurately as I can, and without any interpretationsof my own. And now I must bid you good-night. I had no idea it was aftertwelve o'clock. "

"And you will observe her moods?" asked Lawrence. 

"Yes, " said Junius as he opened the door, "I will carefully observe hermoods. "

When Junius had gone, Lawrence turned his face again toward thefireplace, where the last smouldering stick had just broken apart in themiddle, and the two ends had wearily fallen over the andirons as if theywished it understood that they could do no more burning that night. Taking this as a hint, Lawrence prepared to retire. "Old Isham must havegone to bed long ago, " he said, "but as I have asked for so muchassistance to-day, I think it is well that I should try to do somethings for myself. "

It was, indeed, very late, but behind the partially closed shutters of alower room of the house sat old Mrs Keswick, gazing at the light thatwas streaming from the window of the office, and wondering what thosetwo men were saying to each other that was keeping them sitting uptogether until after midnight. 

Annie Peyton, too, had not gone to bed, and looking through her chamberwindow at the office, she hoped that cousin Junius would come awaybefore he lost his temper. Of course she thought he must have been veryangry when he came home and found Mr Croft here at the only time thatRoberta March had ever visited the house, and it was quite natural thathe should go to his rival, and tell him what he thought about it. But hehad been there a long, long time, and she did hope they would not getvery angry with each other, and that nothing would happen. One thoughtcomforted her very much. Mr Croft was disabled, and Junius would scornto take advantage of a man in that condition. 

At an upper window, at the other end of the house, sat Roberta March, ready for bed, but with no intention of going there until Junius Keswickhad come out of the office. Knowing the two men as she did, she had nofear that any harm would come to either of them during this longconference, whatever its subject might be. That she, herself, was thatsubject she had not the slightest doubt, and although it was of noearthly use for her to sit there and gaze upon that light streaming intothe darkness of the yard, but revealing to her no more of what was goingon inside the room than if it had been the light of a distant star, still she sat and speculated. At last the office door opened, and Juniuscame out, turning to speak to the occupant of the room as he did so. Thebrief vision of him which the watchers caught, as he stood for a momentin the lighted doorway before stepping out into the darkness, showedthat his demeanor was as quiet and composed as usual; and one of thethree women went to bed very much relieved. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

From breakfast time the next morning until ten o'clock in theforenoon, at which hour the Midbranch carriage arrived, Junius Keswickhad been vainly endeavoring to get an opportunity to speak with MissMarch. That lady had remained in her own room nearly all the morning, where his cousin had been with her; and his aunt, who had her ownpeculiar ways of speeding the parting guest, had retired to somedistant spot on the estate, either to plan out some farming operationfor the ensuing season, or to prevent her pent-up passion from boilingover in her own house. 

Thus Junius had the lower floor to himself, and he strode about inmuch disquietude, debating whether he ought to send a message toRoberta, or whether he should wait till she had finished her packing, or whatever it was, that was keeping her up-stairs. His last privateinterview with her had not been a pleasant one, and if he had intendedto speak to her for himself, he would not have felt much encouragedby her manner of the preceding evening; but he was now engaged on theaffairs of another, and he believed that a failure to attend to themwould be regarded as a breach of faith. 

When Mr Brandon's carriage drove into the yard he began to despair, but now Roberta came running down stairs to speak to Sam, the driver, and ask him how long it would be necessary to rest his horses. Samthought an hour would be long enough, as they would have a good restwhen they got home; and this matter having been settled, Junius cameforward, and requested Roberta to step in the parlor, as he hadsomething to say to her. Without reply, she followed him into theroom, and he closed the door. They sat down, one on one side ofthe round centre table, and one on the other, and Junius began hisstatement. 

He was by profession a lawyer, and he had given a great deal ofattention to the art of putting things plainly, and with a view to ajust effect. He had carefully prepared in his mind what he shouldsay to Roberta. He wished to present this man's message without theslightest exhibition of desire for its success, and yet without anytendency to that cold-blooded way of stating it, to which Croft hadobjected. He had, indeed, picked up his adversary's sword, and whilehe did not wish, in handing it to him, to prick him with it, or do himsome such underhand injury, he did not think it at all necessary tosharpen the weapon before giving it back. 

What Junius had to say occupied a good deal of time. He expressedhimself carefully and deliberately; and as nearly as a skilfullystuffed and prepared animal in a museum resembles its wild original ofthe forest, so did his remarks resemble those that Lawrence would havemade had he been there. Roberta listened to him in silence until hehad finished, and then she rose to her feet, and her manner wassuch that Junius rose also. "Junius Keswick, " she said, "you havedeliberately come to me, and offered me the hand of another man inmarriage. "

"Not that, " said Junius, "I merely came to explain----. "

"Do not split hairs, " she interrupted, "you did exactly that. You cameto me because he could not come himself, and offered him to me. Now goto him from me, and tell him that I accept him. " And, with that, sheswept out of the room, and came down stairs no more until bonneted, and accompanied by Miss Annie, she hurried to the front door, andentered the carriage which was there waiting for her, with Peggy bythe driver. With some quick good-byes and kisses to Annie, but never aword to Junius, or anybody else, she drove away. 

If Junius Keswick had been nervous and anxious that morning, as hestrode about the house, waiting for an opportunity to speak to MissMarch, it may well be supposed that Lawrence Croft, shut up in hislittle room at the end of the yard, would be more so. He had sat athis window, waiting, and waiting. He had occasionally seen Mr Keswickcome out on the porch, and with long strides pace backward andforward, and he knew by that sign that he had yet no message to bringhim. He had seen the Midbranch carriage drive into the yard; he hadseen Miss March come out on the porch, and speak to the driver, andthen go in again; he had seen the carriage driven under a large tree, where the horses were taken out and led away to be refreshed; in anhour or more, he saw them brought back and harnessed to the vehicle, which was turned and driven up again to the door, when some baggagewas brought down and strapped on a little platform behind. Shortlyafterwards Peggy came round the end of the house, with a hat on, anda little bundle under her arm, and approached the carriage, making, however, a wide turn toward the office, at which, and a mile or twobeyond, her far-off gaze was steadily directed. 

Lawrence threw up the sash and called to her, and his guardian impapproached the window. "Are you Miss March's maid? I think I have seenyou at Midbranch. "

"Yaas, sah, you's done seen me, offen, " said Peggy. 

"Does Miss March intend to start immediately?" he asked. 

"Yaas, sah, " said the good Peggy, "she'll be out in a minute, soonas she done kissin' Mah's Junius good-bye in de parlor. " And then, noticing a look of astonishment on the gentleman's face, she added:"Dey's gwine to be mar'ed, Chris'mus. "

"What!" exclaimed Lawrence. 

"Good-bye, Mister Crof, '" said Peggy, "I's got to hurry up. "

Lawrence made no answer, but mechanically tossed her a coin, which, picking up, she gave him a farewell grin, and hastened to take herseat by the driver. 

Very soon afterward Lawrence saw Roberta come out, accompanied only byMrs Null, and hurry down the steps. Forgetting his injured ankle, hesprang to his feet, and stepping quickly to the door, opened it, andstood on the threshold. But Miss March did not even look his way. Hegazed at her with wide-open eyes as she hastily kissed Mrs Null, andsprang into the carriage, which was immediately driven off. As MrsNull turned to go into the house, she looked toward the office andnodded to him. He believed that she would have come to him if he hadcalled her, but he did not call. His mind was in such a condition thathe would not have been capable of framing a question, had she come. Hefelt that he could speak to no one until he had seen Keswick. Closingthe door he went back to his chair; and as he did so, his ankle painedhim sadly, but of this he scarcely thought. 

He did not have to wait long for Junius Keswick, for in about tenminutes that individual entered. Lawrence turned, as his visitoropened the door; and he saw a countenance which had undergone a verynoticeable change. It was not dark or lowering; it was not pale; butit was gray and hard; and the eyes looked larger than Lawrence hadremembered them. 

Without preface or greeting Junius approached him, and said: "I havetaken your message to Miss March, and have brought you one in return. You are accepted. "

Lawrence pushed back his chair, and stared blankly at the other. "Whatdo you mean?" he presently asked. 

"I mean what I say, " said Keswick. "Miss March has accepted you. "

A crowd of emotions rushed through the brain of Lawrence Croft; joywas among them, but it was a joy that was jostled and shaken andpushed, this way and that. "I do not understand, " he said. "I did notexpect such a decisive message. I supposed she might send me someencouragement, some--. Why didn't she see me before she left?"

"I am not here to explain her actions if I could, " said Junius, whohad not sat down. "She said: 'Tell him I accept him. ' That is all. Good morning. "

"But, stop!" cried Lawrence, on his feet again. "You must tell me morethan that. Did you say to her only what I said to you? How did itaffect her?"

"Oh, " said Junius, turning suddenly at the door, "I forgot that youasked me to observe her mood. Well, she was very angry. "

"With me?" cried Lawrence. 

"With me, " said Junius. And closing the door behind him, he strodeaway. 

The accepted lover sat down. He had never spoken more truly than whenhe said he did not understand it. "Is she really mine?" he exclaimed. And with his eyes fixed on the blank wall over the mantel-piece, herepeated over and over again: "Is she mine? Is she really mine?" Hehad well developed mental powers, but the work of setting this matterstraight and plain was too difficult for him. 

If she had sent him some such message as this: "I am very angry withyou, but some day you can come and explain yourself to me;" his heartwould have leaped for joy. He would have believed that his peace hadbeen made, and that he had only to go to her to call her his own. Nowhis heart desired to leap with joy, but it did not seem to know how todo it. The situation was such an anomalous one. After such a messageas this, why had she not let him see her? Why had she been angry withKeswick? Was that pique? And then a dark thought crossed his mind. Hadhe been accepted to punish the other? No, he could not believe that;no woman such as Roberta March would give herself away from such amotive. Had Keswick been joking with him? No, he could not believethat; no man could joke with such a face. 

Even the fact that Mrs Keswick had not bid Miss March farewell, troubled the mind of Lawrence. It was true that she might not yet knowthat the match, which she had so much encouraged, had been finallymade, but something must be very wrong, or she would not have beenabsent at the moment of her guest's departure. And what did thatbeastly little negro mean by telling him that Keswick and Miss Marchwere to be married at Christmas, and that the two were kissing eachother good-bye in the parlor? Why, the man had not even come out toput her in the carriage, and the omission of this courtesy was veryremarkable. These questions were entirely too difficult for him toresolve by himself. It was absolutely necessary that more should betold to him, and explained to him. Seeing the negro boy Plez crossingthe yard, he called him and asked him to tell Mr Keswick that Mr Croftwished to see him immediately. 

"Mahs' Junius, " said the boy, "he done gone to de railroad to takede kyars. He done took he knapsack on he back, an' walk 'cross defiel's. "

When, about an hour or two afterwards, Uncle Isham brought Mr Crofthis dinner, the old negro appeared to have lost that air of attentivegeniality which he usually put on while waiting on the gentleman. Lawrence, however, took no notice of this, but before the man reachedthe table, on which he was to place the tray he carried, he asked: "Isit true that Mr Keswick has gone away by train?"

"Yaas, sah, " answered Isham. 

"And where is Mrs Keswick?" asked Lawrence. "Isn't she in the house?"

"No, sah, done gwine vis'tin, I 'spec. "

"When will she return?"

"Dunno, " said Isham. "She nebber comes to me an' tells me whar shegwine, an' when she comin' back. "

And then, after satisfying himself that nothing more was needed of himfor the present, Isham left the room; and when he reached the kitchen, he addressed himself to its plump mistress: "Letty, " said he, "whendat ar Mister Crof has got froo wid his dinner, you go an' fotch backde plates an' dishes. He axes too many questions to suit me, dis day. "

"You is poh'ly to-day, Uncle Isham, " said Letty. 

"Yaas, " said the old man, "I's right much on the careen. "

Uncle Isham, perhaps, was not more loyal to the widow Keswick thanmany old servants were and are to their former mistresses, but hisloyalty was peculiar in that it related principally to his regard forher character. This regard he wished to be very high, and it alwaystroubled and unsettled his mind, when the old lady herself or anybodyelse interfered with his efforts to keep it high. For years he hadbeen hoping that the time would come when she would cease to "rar andchawge, " but she had continued, at intervals, to indulge in that mostunsuitable exercise; and now that it appeared that she had reared andcharged again, her old servant was much depressed. She had gone awayfrom the house, and, for all he knew, she might stay away for days orweeks, as she had done before, and Uncle Isham was never so much "onthe careen" as when he found himself forced to believe that his oldmistress was still a woman who could do a thing like that. 

Letty had no objections to answering questions, but much to herdisappointment, Lawrence asked her none. He had had enough ofcatechising negroes. But he requested her to ask Mrs Null if she wouldbe kind enough to step out, for a few minutes, and speak to him. When, very shortly thereafter, that lady appeared, Lawrence was seated athis open door ready to receive her. 

"How are you?" she said. "And how is your ankle to-day? You have hadnobody to attend to it. "

"It has hurt me a good deal, " he answered. "I think I must have givenit a wrench this morning, but I put on it some of the lotion MrsKeswick left with me, and it feels better. "

"It is too bad, " said Mrs Null, "that you have to attend to ityourself. "

"Not at all, " said Lawrence. "Now that I know how, I can do it, perfectly well, and I don't care a snap about my ankle, except that itinterferes with more important affairs. Why do you suppose Miss Marchwent away without speaking to me, or taking leave of me in any way?"

"I thought that would trouble you, " said she, "and, to speak honestly, I don't think it was right. But Roberta was in a very agitatedcondition, when she left here, and I don't believe she ever thought oftaking leave of you, or any one, except me. She and I are very goodfriends, but she don't confide much in me. But one thing I am prettysure of, and that is that she is dreadfully angry with my cousinJunius, and I am very sorry for that. "

"How did he anger her?" asked Lawrence, wishing to find out how muchthis young woman knew. "I haven't the least idea, " said Miss Annie. "All I know is, she had quite a long talk with him, in the parlor, andafter that she came flying up-stairs, just as indignant as she couldbe. She didn't say much, but I could see how her soul raged withinher. " And now the young lady stopped speaking, and looked straightinto Lawrence's face. "It isn't possible, " she said, "that you havebeen sending my cousin to propose to her for you?"

This was not a pleasant question to answer, and, besides, Lawrence hadmade up his mind that the period had passed for making confidants ofother persons, in regard to his love affairs. "Do you suppose I woulddo that?" he said. 

"No, I don't, " Miss Annie answered. "Cousin Junius would never haveundertaken such a thing, and I don't believe you would be cruel enoughto ask him. "

"Thank you for your good opinion, " said Lawrence. "And now can youtell me when Mr Keswick is expected to return?"

"He has gone back to Washington, and he told me he should stay theresome time. "

"And why has not Mrs Keswick been out to see me?" asked Lawrence. 

"You are dreadfully inquisitive, " said Miss Annie, "but to tell youthe simple truth, Mr Croft, I don't believe Aunt Keswick takes anyfurther interest in you, now that Roberta has gone. She had set herheart on making a match between you two, and doing it here withoutdelay; and I think that everything going wrong about this has put herinto the state of mind she is in now. "

"Has she really gone away?" asked Lawrence. 

"Oh, that don't amount to anything, " said Miss Annie. "She went overthe fields to Howlett's, to see the postmistress, who is an oldfriend, to whom she often goes for comfort, when things are not rightat home. But I am going after her this afternoon in the spring wagon. I'll take Plez along with me to open the gates. I am sure I shallbring her back. "

"I must admit, Mrs Null, " said Lawrence, "that I am very inquisitive, but you can easily understand how much I am troubled and perplexed. "

"I expect Miss March's going away troubled you more than anythingelse, " said she. 

"That is true, " he answered, "but then there are other things whichgive me a great deal of anxiety. I came here to be, for a day or two, the guest of a lady on whom I have no manner of claim for prolongedhospitality. And now here I am, compelled to stay in this room anddepend on her kindness or forbearance for everything I have. I wouldgo away, immediately, but I know it would injure me to travel. The fewsteps I took yesterday have probably set me back for several days. "

"Oh, it would never do for you to travel, " said she, "with such asprained ankle as you have. It would certainly injure you very much tobe driven all the way to the Green Sulphur Springs. I am told the roadis very rough, between here and there, but perhaps you didn't noticeit, having come over on horseback. "

"Yes, I did notice it, and I could not stand that drive. And, even ifI could be got to the train, to go North, I should have to walk a gooddeal at the stations. "

"You simply must not think of it, " said Miss Annie. "And now let megive you a piece of advice. I am a practical person, as you may know, and I like to do things in a practical way. The very best thing thatyou can do, is to arrange with Aunt Keswick to stay here as a boarder, until your ankle is well. She has taken boarders, and in this caseI don't think she would refuse. As I told you before, you must notexpect her to take the same interest in you, that she did when youfirst came, but she is really a kind woman, though she has suchdreadfully funny ways, and she wouldn't have neglected you to-day, ifit hadn't been that her mind is entirely wrapped up in other things. If you like, I'll propose such an arrangement to her, this afternoon. "

"You are very kind, indeed, " said Lawrence, "but is there not dangerof offending her by such a proposition?"

"Yes, I think there is, " answered Miss Annie, "and I have no doubt shewill fly out into a passion when she hears that the gentleman, whomshe invited here as a guest, proposes to stay as a boarder, but Ithink I can pacify her, and make her look at the matter in the properway. " "But why mention it at all, and put yourself to all that troubleabout it?" said Lawrence. 

"Why, of course, because I think you will be so much better satisfied, and content to keep quiet and get well, if you feel that you have aright to stay here. If Aunt Keswick wasn't so very different fromother people, I wouldn't have mentioned this matter for, really, thereis no necessity for it; but I know very well that if you were to dropout of her mind for two or three days, and shouldn't see anything ofher, that you would become dreadfully nervous about staying here. "

"You are certainly very practical, Mrs Null, and very sensible, and very, very kind; and nothing could suit me better under thecircumstances than the plan you propose. But I am extremely anxiousnot to give offence to your aunt. She has treated me with the utmostkindness and hospitality. "

"Oh, don't trouble yourself about that, " said Miss Annie, with alittle laugh. "I am getting to know her so well that I think I canmanage an affair like this, very easily. And now I must be off, or itwill be too late for me to go to Howlett's, this afternoon, and I am avery slow driver. Are you sure there is nothing you want? I shall godirectly past the store, and can stop as well as not. "

"Thank you very much, " said Lawrence, "but I do not believe thatHowlett's possesses an article that I need. One thing I will ask youto do for me before you go. I want to write a letter, and I find thatI am out of paper; therefore I shall be very much obliged to you, ifyou will let me have some, and some envelopes. "

"Why, certainly, " said Miss Annie, and she went into the house. 

She looked over the stock of paper which her aunt kept in a desk inthe dining-room, but she did not like it. "I don't believe he willwant to write on such ordinary paper as this, " she said to herself. Whereupon she went up-stairs and got some of her own paper andenvelopes, which were much finer in material and more correct instyle. "I don't like it a bit, " she thought, "to give this to him towrite that letter on, but I suppose it's bound to be written, anyway, so he might as well have the satisfaction of good paper. "

"You must excuse these little sheets, " she said, when she took it tohim, "but you couldn't expect anything else, in an Amazonian householdlike ours. Cousin Junius has manly stationery, of course, but Isuppose it is all locked up in that secretary in your room. "

"Oh, this will do very well indeed, " said Lawrence; "and I wish Icould come out and help you into your vehicle, " regarding the springwagon which now stood at the door, with Plez at the head of the solemnsorrel. 

"Thank you, " said Miss Annie, "that is not at all necessary. " And shetripped over to the spring wagon, and mounting into its altitudeswithout the least trouble in the world, she took up the reins. Withthese firmly grasped in her little hands, which were stretched veryfar out, and held very wide apart, she gave the horse a great jerk andtold him to "Get up!" As she moved off, Lawrence from his open doorcalled out: "_Bon voyage_" and in a full, clear voice she thankedhim, but did not dare to look around, so intent was she upon hercharioteering. 

Slowly turning the horse toward the yard gate, which Plez stoodholding open, her whole soul was absorbed in the act of guiding theequipage through the gateway. Quickly glancing from side to side, andthen at the horse's back, which ought to occupy a medium positionbetween the two gateposts, she safely steered the front wheels throughthe dangerous pass, although a grin of delight covered the face ofPlez as he noticed that the hub of one of the hind wheels almostgrazed a post. Then the observant boy ran on to open the other gate, and with many jerks and clucks, Miss Annie induced the sorrel to breakinto a gentle trot. 

As Lawrence looked after her, a little pang made itself noticeable inhis conscience. This girl was certainly very kind to him, and mostremarkably considerate of him in the plan she had proposed. And yet hefelt that he had prevaricated to her, and, in fact, deceived her, inthe answer he had made when she asked him if he had sent her cousinto speak for him to Miss March. Would she have such friendly feelingstoward him, and be so willing to oblige him, if she knew that he hadin effect done the thing which she considered so wrong and so cruel?But it could not be helped; the time had passed for confidences. Hemust now work out this affair for himself, without regard to personswho really had nothing whatever to do with it. 

Closing his door, he hopped back to his table, and, seating himself atit, he opened his travelling inkstand and prepared to write to MissMarch. It was absolutely necessary that he should write this letter, immediately, for, after the message he had received from the lady ofhis love, no time should be lost in putting himself in communicationwith her. But, before beginning to write, he must decide upon thespirit of his letter. 

Under the very peculiar circumstances of his acceptance, he did notfeel that he ought to indulge in those rapturous expressions ofecstacy in which he most certainly would have indulged, if the ladyhad personally delivered her decision to him. He did not doubt her, for what woman would play a joke like that on a man--upon two men, infact? Even if there were no other reason she would not dare to do it. Nor did he doubt Keswick. It would have been impossible for him tocome with such a message, if it had not been delivered to him. Andyet Lawrence could not bring himself to be rapturous. If he had beenaccepted in cold blood, and a hand, and not a heart, had been given tohim, he would gladly take that hand and trust to himself to so warmthe heart that it, also, would soon be his. But he did not know whatRoberta March had given him. 

On the other hand, he knew very well if, in his first letter as anaccepted lover, he should exhibit any of that caution and prudencewhich, in the course of his courtship, had proved to be shoals onwhich he had very nearly run aground, that Roberta's resentment, whichhad shown itself very marked in this regard, would probably be rousedto such an extent that the affair would be brought to a very speedyand abrupt termination. If she had been obliged to forgive him, once, for this line of conduct, he could not expect her to do it again. Towrite a letter, which should err in neither of these respects, was avery difficult thing to do, and required so much preparatory thought, that when, toward the close of the afternoon, Miss Annie drove in atthe yard gate, with Mrs Keswick on the seat beside her, not a line hadbeen written. 

Mrs Keswick descended from the spring wagon and went into the house, but Miss Annie remained at the bottom of the steps, for the apparentpurpose of speaking to Plez; perhaps to give him some instructions inregard to the leading of a horse to its stable, or to instil into hismind some moral principle or other; but the moment the vehicle movedaway, she ran over to the office and tapped at the window, which wasquickly opened by Lawrence. 

"I have spoken to her about it, " she said, "and although she blazedup at first, so that I thought I should be burned alive, I made herunderstand just how matters really are, and she has agreed to let youstay here as a boarder. "

"You are extremely good, " said Lawrence, "and must be a most admirablemanager. This arrangement makes me feel much better satisfied than Icould have been, otherwise. " Then leaning a little further out of thewindow, he asked: "But what am I to do for company, while I am shut uphere?"

"Oh, you will have Uncle Isham, and Aunt Keswick, and sometimes me. But I hope that you will soon be able to come into the house, and takeyour meals, and spend your evenings with us. "

"You have nothing but good wishes for me, " he said, "and I believe, ifyou could manage it, you would have me cured by magic, and sent off, well and whole, to-morrow. "

"Of course, " said Miss Annie, very promptly. "Good night. "

Just before supper, Mrs Keswick came in to see Lawrence. She was verygrave, almost severe, and her conversation was confined to inquiriesas to the state of his ankle, and his general comfort. But Lawrencetook no offence at her manner, and was very gracious, saying someexceedingly neat things about the way he had been treated; and, aftera little, her manner slightly mollified, and she remarked: "And so youlet Miss March go away, without settling anything. "

Now Lawrence considered this a very incorrect statement, but he had nowish to set the old lady right. He knew it would joy her heart, andmake her more his friend than, ever if he should tell her that MissMarch had accepted him, but this would be a very dangerous piece ofinformation to put in her hands. He did not know what use she wouldmake of it, or what damage she might unwittingly do to his prospects. And so he merely answered: "I had no idea she would leave so soon. "

"Well, " said the old lady, "I suppose, after all, that you needn'tgive it up yet. I understand that she is not going to New York beforethe end of the month, and you may be well enough before that to rideover to Midbranch. "

"I hope so, most assuredly, " said he. 

Lawrence devoted that evening to his letter. It was a long one, andwas written with a most earnest desire to embrace all the merits ofeach of the two kinds of letters, which have before been alluded to, and to avoid all their faults. When it was finished, he read it, toreit up, and threw it in the fire. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

The next day opened bright and clear, and before ten o'clock, thethermometer had risen to seventy degrees. Instead of sitting in frontof the fireplace, Lawrence had his chair and table brought close tohis open doorway, where he could look out on the same beautiful scenewhich had greeted his eyes a few days before. "But what is the good, "he thought, "of this green grass, this sunny air, that blue sky, thosewhite clouds, and the distant tinted foliage, without that figure, which a few days ago stood in the foreground of the picture?" But, as the woman to whom, in his soul's sight, the whole world was but abackground, was not there, he turned his eyes from the warm autumnalscene, and prepared again to write to her. He had scarcely taken uphis pen, however, when he was interrupted by the arrival of MissAnnie, who came to bring him a book she had just finished reading, alate English novel which she thought might be more interesting thanthose she had sent him. The book was one which Lawrence had not seenand wanted to see, but in talking about it, to the young lady, hediscovered that she had not read all of it. 

"Don't let me deprive you of the book, " said Lawrence. "If you havebegun it, you ought to go on with it. "

"Oh, don't trouble your mind about that, " she said, with a laugh. "Ihave finished it, but I have not read a word of the beginning. I onlylooked at the end of it, to see how the story turned out. I always dothat, before I read a novel. "

This remark much amused Lawrence. "Do you know, " said he, "that Iwould rather not read novels at all, than to read them in that way. Imust begin at the beginning, and go regularly through, as the authorwishes his readers to do. "

"And perhaps, when you get to the end, " said Miss Annie, "you'll findthat the wrong man got her, and then you'll wish you had not read thestory. "

"As you appear to be satisfied with this novel, " said Lawrence, "Iwish you would read it to me, and then I would feel that I was nottaking an uncourteous precedence of you. "

"I'll read it to you, " said she, "or, at least, as much as you wantme to, for I feel quite sure that after you get interested in it, you will want to take it, yourself, and read straight on till it isfinished, instead of waiting for some one to come and give you achapter or two at a time. That would be the way with me, I know. "

"I shall be delighted to have you read to me, " said Lawrence. "Whencan you begin?"

"Now, " she said, "if you choose. But perhaps you wish to write. "

"Not at this moment, " said Lawrence, turning from the table. "Unfortunately I have plenty of leisure. Where will you sit?" And hereached out his hand for a chair. 

"Oh, I don't want a chair, " said Annie, taking her seat on the broaddoor-step. "This is exactly what I like. I am devoted to sitting onsteps. Don't you think there is something dreadfully stiff aboutalways being perched up in a chair?"

"Yes, " said Lawrence, "on some occasions. "

And, forthwith, she began upon the first chapter; and having readfive lines of this, she went back and read the title page, suddenlyremembering that Mr Croft liked to begin a book at the very beginning. Miss Annie had been accustomed to read to her father, and she readaloud very well, and liked it. As she sat there, shaded by a greatlocust tree, which had dropped so many yellow leaves upon the grass, that, now and then, it could not help letting a little fleck ofsunshine come down upon her, sometimes gilding for a moment herlight-brown hair, sometimes touching the end of a crimson ribbon shewore, and again resting for a brief space on the toe of a very smallboot just visible at the edge of her dress, Lawrence looked at her, and said to himself: "Is it possible that this is the rather paleyoung girl in black, who gave me change from behind the desk of MrCandy's Information Shop? I don't believe it. That young person sprangup, temporarily, and is defunct. This is some one else. "

She read three chapters before she considered it time to go into thehouse to see if it was necessary for her to do anything about dinner. When she left him, Lawrence turned again to his writing. 

That afternoon, he sent Mrs Null a little note on the back of a card, asking her if she could let him have a few more sheets of paper. Lawrence found this request necessary, as he had used up that dayall the paper she had sent him, and the small torn pieces of it nowlittered the fireplace. 

"He must be writing a diary letter, " said Miss Annie to herself when, she received this message, "such as we girls used to write when wewere at school. " And, bringing down a little the corners of her mouth, she took from her stationery box what she thought would be quite paperenough to send to a man for such a purpose. 

But, although the means were thus made abundant, the letter to MissMarch was not then written. Lawrence finally determined that it wassimply impossible for him to write to the lady, until he knew more. What Keswick had told him had been absurdly little, and he had hurriedaway before there had been time to ask further questions. Instead ofsending a letter to Miss March, he would write to Keswick, and wouldput to him a series of interrogations, the answers to which would makehim understand better the position in which he stood. Then he wouldwrite to Miss March. 

The next day Miss Annie could not read to him in the morning, because, as she came and told him, she was going to Howlett's, on an errand forher aunt. But there would be time to give him a chapter or two beforedinner, when she came back. 

"Would it be any trouble, " said Lawrence, "for you to mail a letterfor me?"

"Oh, no, " said Miss Annie, but not precisely in the same tone in whichshe would have told him that it would be no trouble to read to him twoor three chapters of a novel. And yet she would pass directly by theresidence of Miss Harriet Corvey, the post-mistress. 

As Miss Annie walked along the narrow path which ran by the roadsideto Howlett's, with the blue sky above her, and the pleasant Octobersunshine all about her, and followed at a little distance by the boyPlez, carrying a basket, she did not seem to be taking that enjoymentin her walk which was her wont. Her brows were slightly contractedand she looked straight in front of her, without seeing anything inparticular, after the manner of persons whose attention is entirelyoccupied in looking into their own minds, at something they do notlike. "It is too much!" she said, almost loud, her brows contractinga little more as she spoke. "It was bad enough to have to furnish thepaper, but for me to have to carry the letter, is entirely too much!"And, at this, she involuntarily glanced at the thick and doublestamped missive, which, having no pocket, she carried in her hand. Shehad not looked at it before, and as her eyes fell upon the address, she stopped so suddenly that Plez, who was dozing as he walked, nearlyran into her. "What!" she exclaimed, "'Junius Keswick, five Q street, Washington, District of Columbia!' Is it possible that Mr Croft hasbeen writing to him, all this time?" She now walked on; and althoughshe still seemed to notice not the material objects around her, thefrown disappeared from her brow, and her mental vision seemed to befixed upon something more pleasant than that which had occupied itbefore. As it will be remembered, she had refused positively to haveanything to do with Lawrence's suit to Miss March, and it was a reliefto her to know that the letter she was carrying was not for that lady. "But why, " thought she, "should he be writing, for two whole evenings, to Junius. I expected that he would write to her, to find out why shewent off and left him in that way, but I did not suppose he would wantto write to Junius. It seems to me they had time enough, that nightthey were together, to talk over everything they had to say. "

And then she began to wonder what they had to say, and, gradually, theconviction grew upon her that Mr Croft was a very, very honorable man. Of course it was wrong that he should have come here to try to win alady who, if one looked at it in the proper light, really belonged toanother. But it now came into her mind that Mr Croft must, by degrees, have seen this, for himself, and that it was the subject of his longconference with Junius, and also, most probably, of this letter. The conference certainly ended amicably, and, in that case, it wasscarcely possible that Junius had given up his claim. He was not thatkind of a man. 

If Mr Croft had become convinced that he ought to retire from thiscontest, and had done so, and Roberta had been informed of it, thatwould explain everything that had happened. Roberta's state of mind, after she had had the talk in the parlor with Junius, and her hurrieddeparture, without taking the slightest notice of either of thegentlemen, was quite natural. What woman would like to know that shehad been bargained about, and that her two lovers had agreed which ofthem should have her? It was quite to be expected that she would bevery angry, at first, though there was no doubt she would get over it, so far as Junius was concerned. 

Having thus decided, entirely to her own satisfaction, that this wasthe state of affairs, she thought it was a grand thing that there weretwo such young men in the world, as her cousin and Mr Croft, who couldarrange such an affair in so kindly and honorable a manner, withoutfeeling that they were obliged to fight--that horribly stupid way inwhich such things used to be settled. 

This vision of masculine high-mindedness, which Miss Annie had calledup, seemed very pleasant to her, and her mental satisfaction wasdenoted by a pretty little glow which came into her face, and by acertain increase of sprightliness in her walk. "Now then, --" she saidto herself; and although she did not finish the sentence, even in herown mind, the sky increased the intensity of its beautiful blue; thesun began to shine with a more golden radiance; the little birds whohad not yet gone South, chirped to each other as merrily as if it hadbeen early summer; the yellow and purple wild flowers of autumn threwinto their blossoms a richer coloring; and even the blades of grassseemed to stretch themselves upward, green, tender, and promising;and when the young lady skipped up the step of the post-office, shedropped the letter into Miss Harriet Corvey's little box, with the airof a mother-bird feeding a young one with the first ripe cherry of theyear. 

A day or two after this, Lawrence found himself able, by the aid of acane and a rude crutch, which Uncle Isham had made for him and the topof which Mrs Keswick had carefully padded, to make his way from theoffice to the house; and, after that, he took his meals, and passedthe greater part of his time in the larger edifice. Sometimes, heransacked the old library; sometimes, Miss Annie read to him; andsometimes, he read to her. In the evening, there were games of cards, in which the old lady would occasionally take a hand, although morefrequently Miss Annie and Mr Croft were obliged to content themselveswith some game at which two could play. But the pleasantest hours, perhaps, were those which were spent in talking, for Lawrence hadtravelled a good deal, and had seen so many of the things in foreignlands which Miss Annie had always wished, that she could see. Lawrencewas waiting until he should hear from Mr Keswick; so that, with someconfidence in his position, he could write to Miss March. His trunkhad been sent over from the Green Sulphur Springs, and he was muchbetter satisfied to wait here than at that deserted watering-place. Itwas, indeed, a very agreeable spot in which to wait, and quite nearenough to Midbranch for him to carry on his desired operations, whenthe time should arrive. He was a little annoyed that Keswick's answershould be so long in coming, but he resolved not to worry himselfabout it. The answer was, probably, a difficult letter to write, andone which Keswick would not be likely to dash off in a hurry. Heremembered, too, that the mail was sent and received only twice a weekat Howlett's. 

Old Mrs Keswick was kind to him, but grave, and rather silent. Onceshe passed the open door of the parlor, by the window of which satMiss Annie and Lawrence, deeply engaged, their heads together, instudying out something on a map, and as she went up-stairs she grimlygrinned, and said to herself: "If that Null could look in and see themnow, I reckon our young man would wish he had the use of all his armsand legs. "

But if Mr Null should disapprove of his wife and that gentleman fromNew York spending so much of their time together, old Mrs Keswick hadnot the least objection in the world. She was well satisfied that MrCroft should find it interesting enough to stay here until the timecame when he should be able to go to Midbranch. When that periodarrived she would not be slow to urge him to his duty, in spite of anyobstacles Mr Brandon might put in his way. So, for the present, shepossessed her soul in as much peace as the soul of a headstrong andvery wilful old lady is capable of being possessed. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

The letter which Lawrence Croft had written to Junius Keswick was notanswered for more than a week, and when the answer arrived, it did notcome through the Howlett's post-office, but was brought from a mailstation on the railway by a special messenger. In this epistle MrKeswick stated that he would have written much sooner but for the factthat he had been away from Washington, and having just returned, hadfound Mr Croft's letter waiting for him. The answer was written in atone which Lawrence did not at all expect. It breathed the spirit of aman who was determined, and almost defiant. It told Mr Croft that thewriter did not now believe that Miss March's acceptance of the said MrCroft, should be considered of any value, whatever. It was the resultof a very peculiar condition of things, in which he regretted havingtaken a part, and it was given in a moment of pique and indignation, which gave Miss March a right to reconsider her hasty decision, if shechose to do so. It would not be fair for either of them to accept, asconclusive, words said under the extraordinary circumstances whichsurrounded Miss March when she said those words. "You asked me todo you a favor, " wrote Junius Keswick, "and, very much against myinclination, and against what is now my judgment, I did it. I now askyou to do me a favor, and I do not think you should refuse it. I askyou not to communicate with Miss March until I have seen her, and haveobtained from her an explanation of the acceptance in question. I havea right to this explanation, and I feel confident that it will begiven to me. You ask me what I truly believe Miss March meant by hermessage to you. I answer that I do not know, but I intend to find outwhat she meant, and as soon as I do so, I will write to you. I think, therefore, considering what you have asked me to do, and what youhave written to me, about what I have done, that you cannot refuse toabstain from any further action in the matter, until I am enabled toanswer you. I cannot leave Washington immediately, but I shall go toMidbranch in a very few days. "

This letter was very far from being a categorical answer to Lawrence'squestions, and it disappointed and somewhat annoyed that gentleman;but after he had read it for the second time, and carefully consideredit, he put it in his pocket and said to himself, "This ends alldiscussion of this subject. Mr Keswick may be right in the positionhe takes, or he may be wrong. He may go to Midbranch; he may get hisexplanation; and he may send it to me. But, without any regard to whathe does, or says, or writes, I shall go to Miss March as soon as I amable to use my ankle, and, whether she be at her uncle's house, orwhether she has gone to New York, or to any other place, I shall seeher, and, myself, obtain from her an explanation of this acceptance. This is due to me as well as to Mr Keswick, and if he thinks he oughtto get it, for himself, I also think I ought to get it, for myself. "

The good results of Lawrence's great care in regard to his injuredankle soon began to show themselves. The joint had slowly but steadilyregained its strength and usual healthy condition; and Lawrence nowfound that he could walk about without the assistance of his rudecrutch. He was still prudent, however, and took but very short walks, and in these he leaned upon his trusty cane. The charming autumn days, which often come to Virginia in late October and early November, werenow at their best. Day after day, the sun shone brightly, but therewas in the air an invigorating coolness, which made its radiancesomething to be sought for and not avoided. 

It was just after dinner, and it was Saturday afternoon, when MissAnnie announced that she was going to see old Aunt Patsy, whom she hadsomewhat neglected of late. 

"May I go with you?" said Lawrence. 

Miss Annie shook her head doubtfully. "I should be very glad to haveyour company, " she said, "but I am afraid it will be entirely too muchof a walk for you. The days are so short that the sun will be lowbefore we could get back, and if you should be tired, it would not dofor you to sit down and rest, at that time of day. "

"I believe, " said Lawrence, "that my ankle is quite strong enough forme to walk to Aunt Patsy's and back, without sitting down to rest. Iwould be very glad to go with you, and I would like, too, to see thatvenerable colored woman again. "

"Well, " said Miss Annie, "if you really think you can walk so far, itwill be very nice indeed to have you go, but you ought to feel verysure that it will not hurt you. "

"Come along, " said Lawrence, taking up his hat and cane. 

After a man has been shut up, as Lawrence had been, a pleasant ramblelike this is a most delightful change, and he did not hesitate tomanifest his pleasure. This touched the very sensitive soul ofhis companion, and with such a sparkle of talk did she evince hergratification, that almost any one would have been able to see thatshe was a young lady who had an earnest sympathy with those who hadundergone afflictions, but were now freed from them. 

Aunt Patsy was glad to see her visitors, particularly glad, it seemed, to see Mr Croft. She was quite loquacious, considering the greatlength of her days, and the proverbial shortness of her tongue. 

"Why, Aunt Patsy, " said Miss Annie, "you seem to have grown youngersince I last saw you! I do believe you are getting old backwards! Whatare you going to do with that dress-body?" "I's lookin' at dis h'yar, "said Aunt Patsy, turning over the well-worn body of a black woollendress which lay in her lap, instead of the crazy quilt on which shewas usually occupied, "to see if it's done gib way in any ob de seams, or de elbers. 'Twas a right smart good frock once, an' I's gwine towear it ter-morrer. "

"To-morrow!" exclaimed Annie. "You don't mean to say you are going tochurch!"

"Dat's jus' wot I's gwine to do, Miss Annie. I's gwine to chu'chter-morrer mawnin'. Dar's gwine to be a big preachin'. Brudder EnickHines is to be dar, an' dey tell me dey allus has pow'ful wakenin'swhen Brudder Enick preaches. I ain't ever heered Brudder Enick yit, coz he was a little boy when I use to go to chu'ch. "

"Will it be in the old church, in the woods just beyond Howlett's?"asked Annie. 

"Right dar, " replied Aunt Patsy, with an approving glance towards theyoung lady. "You 'members dem ar places fus' rate, Miss Annie. Why youdidn't tole me, when you fus' come h'yar, dat you was dat little MissAnnie dat I use to tote roun' afore I gin up walkin'?"

"Oh, that's too long a story, " said Miss Annie, with a laugh. "Youknow I hadn't seen Aunt Keswick, then. I couldn't go about introducingmyself to other people before I had seen her. "

Aunt Patsy gave a sagacious nod of her head. "I reckon you thoughtshe'd be right much disgruntled when she heered you was mar'ed, an'you wanted to tell her youse'f. But I's pow'ful glad dat it's allright now. You all don' know how pow'ful glad I is. " And she lookedat Mr Croft and Miss Annie with a glance as benignant as her time-setcountenance was capable of. 

"But Aunt Patsy, " said Annie, quite willing to change theconversation, although she did not know the import of the old woman'slast remark, "I thought you were not able to go out. "

The old woman gave a little chuckle. "Dat's wot eberybody thought, an'to tell you de truf, Miss Annie, I thought so too. But ef I was strong'nuf to go to de pos' offis, --an' I did dat, Miss Annie, an' not longago nuther, --I reckon I's strong 'nuf to go to chu'ch, an' Uncle Ishamis a comin' wid de oxcart to take me ter-morrer mawnin'. Dar'll bepow'ful wakenin's, an' I ain't seen de Jerus'lum Jump in a mighty longtime. "

"Are they going to have the Jerusalem Jump?" asked Miss Annie. 

"Oh, yaas, Miss Annie, " said the old woman, "dey's sartin shuh to habdat, when dey gits waken'd. "

"I should so like to see the Jerusalem Jump again, " said Miss Annie. "I saw it once, when I was a little girl. Did you ever see it?" shesaid, turning to Mr Croft. 

"I have not, " he answered. "I never even heard of it. "

"Suppose we go to-morrow, and hear Brother Enoch, " she said. "I shouldlike it very much, " answered Lawrence. 

"Aunt Patsy, " said Miss Annie, "would there be any objection to ourgoing to your church to-morrow?"

The old woman gave her head a little shake. "Dunno, " she said. "As agin'ral rule we don't like white folks at our preachin's. Dey's gotdar chu'ches, an' dar ways, an' we's got our chu'ches, an' our ways. But den it's dif'rent wid you all. An' you all's not like white folksin gin'ral, an' 'specially strawngers. You all isn't strawngers now. Idon't reckon dar'll be no 'jections to your comin', ef you set sollum, an' I know you'll do dat, Miss Annie, coz you did it when you was alittle gal. An' I reckon it'll be de same wid him?" looking at MrCroft. 

Miss Annie assured her that she and her companion would be certain to"sit solemn, " and that they would not think of such a thing as goingto church and behaving indecorously. 

"Dar is white folks, " said Aunt Patsy, "wot comes to a culled chu'chfur nothin' else but to larf. De debbil gits dem folks, but dat don'do us no good, Miss Annie, an' we'd rudder dey stay away. But youall's not dat kine. I knows dat, sartin shuh. "

When the two had taken leave of the old woman, and Miss Annie had goneout of the door, Aunt Patsy leaned very far forward, and stretchingout her long arm, seized Mr Croft by the skirt of his coat. He steppedback, quite surprised, and then she said to him, in a low but veryearnest voice: "I reckon dat dat ar sprain ankle was nuffin but aacciden'; but you look out, sah, you look out! Hab you got dem littleshoes handy?"

"Oh, yes, " said Lawrence. "I have them in my trunk. "

"Keep 'em whar you kin put your han' on 'em, " said Aunt Patsy, impressively. "You may want 'em yit. You min' my wuds. "

"I shall be sure to remember, " said Lawrence, as he hastened out torejoin Annie. 

"What in the world had Aunt Patsy to say to you?" asked that somewhatsurprised young lady. 

Then Lawrence told her how some time before Aunt Patsy had given him apair of blue shoes, which she said would act as a preventive charm, incase Mrs Keswick should ever wish to do him harm, and that she had nowcalled him back to remind him not to neglect this means of personalprotection. "I can't imagine, " said Lawrence, "that your aunt wouldever think of such a thing as doing me a harm, or how those littleshoes would prevent her, if she wanted to, but I suppose Aunt Patsy iscrack-brained on some subjects, and so I thought it best to humor her, and took the shoes. "

"Do you know, " said Miss Annie, after walking a little distance insilence, "that I am afraid Aunt Patsy has done a dreadful thing, andone I never should have suspected her of. Aunt Keswick had a littlebaby once, and it died very young. She keeps its clothes in a box, andI remember when I was a little girl that she once showed them to me, and told me I was to take the place of that little girl, and thatfrightened me dreadfully, because I thought that I would have to die, and have my clothes put in a box. I recollect perfectly that there wasa pair of little blue shoes among these clothes, and Aunt Patsy musthave stolen them. "

"That surprises me, " said Lawrence. "I supposed, from what I had heardof the old woman, that she was perfectly honest. "

"So she is, " said Annie. "She has been a trusted servant in our familynearly all her life. But some negroes have very queer ideas abouttaking certain things, and I suppose Aunt Patsy had some particularreason for taking those shoes, for, of course, they could be of novalue to her. "

"I am very sorry, " said Lawrence, "that such sacred relics should havecome into my possession, but I must admit that I would not like togive them back to your aunt. "

"Oh, no, " said Annie, "that would never do; and I wouldn't dare to tryto find her box, and put them in it. It would seem like a desecrationfor any hand but her own to touch those things. "

"That is true, " said Lawrence, "and you might get yourself into a lotof trouble by endeavoring to repair the mischief. Before I leave here, we may think of some plan of disposing of the little trotters. Itmight be well to give them back to Aunt Patsy and tell her to restorethem. "

"I don't know, " said Miss Annie, with a slowness of reply, and anirrelevance of demeanor, which indicated she was not thinking of thewords she was speaking. 

The sun was now very near the horizon, and that evening coolnesswhich, in the autumn, comes on so quickly after the sunshine fades outof the air, made Lawrence give a little shrug with his shoulders. Heproposed that they should quicken their pace, and as his companionmade no objection, they soon reached the house. 

The next day being Sunday, breakfast was rather later than usual, andas Lawrence looked out on the bright morning, with the mists justdisengaging themselves from the many-hued foliage which crowned thetops of the surrounding hills; and on the recently risen sun, hangingin an atmosphere of grey and lilac, with the smile of Indian summer onits face; he thought he would like to take a stroll, before that meal;but either the length of his walk on the previous day, or the rapidityof the latter portion of it, had been rather too much for thenewly-recovered strength of his ankle, which now felt somewhat stiffand sore. When he mentioned this at the breakfast table, he received agood deal of condolence from the two ladies, especially Mrs Keswick. And, at first, it was thought that it might be well for him to giveup his proposed attendance at the negro church. But to this Lawrencestrongly objected, for he very much desired to see some of thepeculiar religious services of the negroes. He had been talking on thesubject the evening before with Mrs Keswick, who had told him that inthis part of the country, which lay in the "black belt" of Virginia, where the negro population had always been thickest, these ceremonieswere more characteristic of the religious disposition of the African, than in those sections of the State where the white race exerted agreater influence upon the manners and customs of the colored people. 

"But it will not be necessary to walk much, " said Miss Annie. "We cantake the spring-wagon, and you can go with us, aunt. "

The old lady permitted herself a little grin. "When I go to church, "she said, "I go to a white folks' church, and try to see what I can ofwhite folks' Christianity, though I must say that Christianity ofthe other color is often just as good, as far as works go. But it isnatural that a stranger should want to see what kind of servicesthe colored people have, so you two might as well get into thespring-wagon and go along. "

"But shall we not deprive you of the vehicle?" said Lawrence. 

"I never go to church in the spring-wagon, " said the old lady, "solong as I am able to walk. And, besides, this is not our Sunday forpreaching. "

It seemed to Lawrence that an elderly person who went about in apurple calico sun-bonnet, and with an umbrella of the same material, might go to church in a wheelbarrow, so far as appearances wereconcerned, but he had long ceased to wonder at Mrs Keswick'sidiosyncrasies. "I remember very well, " said Miss Annie, after theold lady had left the table, which she always did as soon as she hadfinished a meal, "when Aunt Keswick used to go to church in a bigfamily carriage, which is now sleeping itself to pieces out there inthe barn. But then she had a pair of big gray horses, one of themnamed Doctor and the other Colonel. But now she has only one horse, and I am going to tell Uncle Isham to harness that one up before hegoes to church himself. You know he is to take Aunt Patsy in theox-cart, so he will have to go early. "

They went to the negro church in the spring-wagon, Lawrence drivingthe jogging sorrel, and Miss Annie on the seat beside him. When theyreached the old frame edifice in the woods beyond Howlett's, theyfound gathered there quite a large assemblage, for this was one ofthose very attractive occasions called a "big preaching. " Horses andmules, and wagons of various kinds, many of the latter containingbaskets of refreshments, were standing about under the trees; and MrsKeswick's cart and oxen, tethered to a little pine tree, gave proofthat Aunt Patsy had arrived. The inside of the church was nearly full, and outside, around the door, stood a large number of men and boys. The white visitors were looked upon with some surprise, but way wasmade for them to approach the door, and as soon as they entered thebuilding two of the officers of the church came forward to show themto one of the uppermost seats; but this honor Miss Annie strenuouslydeclined. She preferred a seat near the open door, and therefore sheand Mr Croft were given a bench in that vicinity, of which they hadsole possession. 

To Lawrence, who had never seen anything of the sort, the serviceswhich now began were exceedingly interesting; and as Annie had notbeen to a negro church since she was a little girl, and very seldomthen, she gave very earnest and animated attention to what was goingon. The singing, as it always is among the negroes, was powerful andmelodious, and the long prayer of Brother Enoch Hines was one of thosespirited and emotional statements of personal condition, and wild andardent supplication, which generally pave the way for a most powerfulawakening in an assemblage of this kind. Another hymn, sung in morevigorous tones than the first one, warmed up the congregation tosuch a degree that when Brother Hines opened the Bible, and madepreparations for his discourse, he looked out upon an audience asanxious to be moved and stirred as he was to move and stir it. Thesermon was intended to be a long one, for, had it been otherwise, Brother Hines had lost his reputation; and, therefore, the preacher, after a few prefatory statements, delivered in a grave and solemnmanner, plunged boldly into the midst of his exhortations, knowingthat he could go either backward or forward, presenting, with equalacceptance, fresh subject matter, or that already used, so long as hisstrength held out. He had not preached half an hour before his hearerswere so stirred and moved, that a majority of them found it utterlyimpossible to merely sit still and listen. In different ways theirawakening was manifested; some began to sing in a low voice; othersgently rocked their bodies; while fervent ejaculations of variouskinds were heard from all parts of the church. From this beginning, arose gradually a scene of religious activity, such as Lawrence hadnever imagined. Each individual allowed his or her fervor to expressitself according to the method which best pleased the worshipper. Some kept to their seats, and listened to the words of the preacher, interrupting him occasionally by fervent ejaculations; others sangand shouted, sometimes standing up, clapping their hands and stampingtheir feet; while a large proportion of the able-bodied members lefttheir seats, and pushed their way forward to the wide, open spacewhich surrounded the preacher's desk, and prepared to engage in theexhilarating ceremony of the "Jerusalem Jump. "

Two concentric rings were formed around the preacher, the inner onecomposed of women, the outer one of men, the faces of those formingthe inner ring being turned towards those in the outer. As soon as allwere in place, each brother reached forth his hand, and took the handof the sister opposite to him, and then each couple began to jump upand down violently, shaking hands and singing at the top of theirvoices. After about a minute of this, the two circles moved, one, oneway and one another, so that each brother found himself oppositea different sister. Hands were again immediately seized, and thejumping, hand-shaking, and singing went on. Minute by minute theexcitement increased; faster the worshippers jumped, and louder theysang. Through it all Brother Enoch Hines kept on with his sermon. It was very difficult now to make himself heard, and the time forexplanation or elucidation had long since passed; all he could do wasto shout forth certain important and moving facts, and this he didover and over again, holding his hand at the side of his mouth, as ifhe were hailing a vessel in the wind. Much of what he said was lostin the din of the jumpers, but ever and anon could be heard ringingthrough the church the announcement: "De wheel ob time is a turnin'roun'!"

In a group by themselves, in an upper corner of the congregation, werefour or five very old women, who were able to manifest their piousenthusiasm in no other way than by rocking their bodies backwardsand forwards, and singing with their cracked voices a gruesomeand monotonous chant. This rude song had something of a wild anduncivilized nature, as if it had come down to these old people fromthe savage rites of their African ancestors. They did not sing inunison, but each squeaked or piped out her, "Yi, wiho, yi, hoo!"according to the strength of her lungs, and the degree of herexaltation. Prominent among these was old Aunt Patsy; her little blackeyes sparkling through her great iron-bound spectacles; her head andbody moving in unison with the wild air of the unintelligible chantshe sang; her long, skinny hands clapping up and down upon herknees; while her feet, encased in their great green baize slippers, unceasingly beat time upon the floor. 

So many persons being absent from their seats, the group of old womenwas clearly visible to Annie and Lawrence, and Aunt Patsy also couldeasily see them. Whenever her head, in its ceaseless moving from sideto side, allowed her eyes to fall upon the two white visitors, herardor and fervency increased, and she seemed to be expressing a piousgratitude that Miss Annie and he, whom she supposed to be her husband, were still together in peace and safety. 

Annie was much affected by all she saw and heard. Her face wasslightly pale, and occasionally she was moved by a little nervoustremor. Mr Croft, too, was very attentive. His soul was not moved toenthusiasm, and he did not feel, as his companion did, now andthen, that he would like to jump up and join in the dancing and theshouting; but the scene made a very strong impression upon him. 

Around and around went the two rings of men and women, jumping, singing, and hand-shaking. Out from the centre of them came thestentorian shout: "De wheel ob time is a turnin' roun'!" From allparts of the church rose snatches of hymns, exultant shouts, groans, and prayers; and, in the corner, the shrill chants of the old womenwere fitfully heard through the storm of discordant worship. 

In the midst of all the wild din and hubbub, the soul of Aunt Patsylooked out from the habitation where it had dwelt so long, and, without giving the slightest notice to any one, or attracting theleast attention by its movements, it silently slipped away. 

The old habitation of the soul still sat in its chair, but no onenoticed that it no longer sang, or beat time with its hands and feet. 

Not long after this, Lawrence looked round at his companion, andnoticed that she was slightly trembling. "Don't you think we have hadenough of this?" he whispered. 

"Yes, " she answered. And they rose and went out. They thought theywere the first who had left. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

When Mr Croft and Miss Annie got into the spring-wagon, and the headof the sorrel was turned away from the church, Lawrence looked at hiswatch, and remarked that, as it was still quite early, there might betime for a little drive before going back to the house for dinner. Theface of the young lady beside him was still slightly pale, and thethought came to him that it would be very well for her if her mindcould be diverted from the abnormally inspiriting scene she had justwitnessed. 

"Dinner will be late to-day, " she said, "for I saw Letty doing herbest among the Jerusalem Jumpers. "

"Very well, " said he, "we will drive. And now, where shall we go?"

"If we take the cross-road at the store, " said Miss Annie, "and go onfor about half a mile, we can turn into the woods, and then there is abeautiful road through the trees, which will bring us out on the otherside of Aunt Keswick's house. Junius took me that way not long ago. "

So they turned at the store, much to the disgust of the ploddingsorrel, who thought he was going directly home, and they soon reachedthe road that led through the woods. This was hard and sandy, as aremany of the roads through the forests in that part of the country, andit would have been a very good driving road, had it not been for theoccasional protrusion of tree roots, which gave the wheels a littlebump, and for the branches which, now and then, hung down somewhat toolow for the comfort of a lady and gentleman, riding in a rather highspring-wagon without a cover. But Lawrence drove slowly, and so theroot bumps were not noticed; and when the low-hanging boughs were onhis side, he lifted them so that his companion's head could pass underand, when they happened to be on her side, Annie ducked her head, and her hat was never brushed off. But, at times, they drove quite adistance without overhanging boughs, and the pine trees, surrounded bytheir smooth carpet of brown spines, gave forth a spicy fragrance inthe warm, but sparkling air; the oak trees stood up still dark andgreen; while the chestnuts were all dressed in rich yellow, with thechinquepin bushes by the roadside imitating them in color, as theytried to do in fruit. Sometimes a spray of purple flowers could beseen among the trees, and great patches of sunlight which, hereand there, came through the thinning foliage, fell, now upon thebrilliantly scarlet leaves of a sweet-gum, and now upon the polishedand brown-red dress of a neighboring black-gum. 

The woods were very quiet. There was no sound of bird or insect, andthe occasional hare, or "Molly Cotton-tail, " as Annie delightedlycalled it, who hopped across the road, made no noise at all. A gentlewind among the tops of the taller trees made a sound as of a distantsea; but, besides this, little was heard but the low, crunching noiseof the wheels, and the voices of Lawrence and Miss Annie. 

Reaching a place where the road branched, Lawrence stopped the horse, and looked up each leafy lane. They were completely deserted. Whitepeople seldom walked abroad at this hour on Sunday, and the negroesof the neighborhood were at church. "Is not this a frightfully lonelyplace?" he said. "One might imagine himself in a desert. "

"I like it, " replied Annie. "It is so different from the wild, exciting tumult of that church. I am glad you took me away. At first Iwould not have missed it for the world, but there seemed to come intothe stormy scene something oppressive, and almost terrifying. "

"I am glad I took you away, " said Lawrence, "but it seems to me thatyour impression was not altogether natural. I thought that, amid allthat mad enthusiasm, you were over-excited, not depressed. A solemnsolitude like this would, to my thinking, be much more likely to loweryour spirits. I don't like solitude, myself, and therefore, I supposeit is that I thought an impressible nature, like yours, would findsomething sad in the loneliness of these silent woods. "

Annie turned, and fixed on him her large blue eyes. "But I am notalone, " she said. 

As Lawrence looked into her eyes he saw that they were as clear as thepurest crystal, and that he could look through them straight into hersoul, and there he saw that this woman loved him. The vision wasas sudden as if it had been a night scene lighted up by a flash oflightning, but it was as clear and plain as if it had been that samescene under the noonday sun. 

There are times in the life of a man, when the goddess of ReasonableImpulse raises her arms above her head, and allows herself a littleyawn. Then she takes off her crown and hangs it on the back of herthrone; after which she rests her sceptre on the floor, and, rising, stretches herself to her full height, and goes forth to take a long, refreshing walk by the waters of Unreflection. Then her minister, Prudence, stretches himself upon a bench, and, with his handkerchiefover his eyes, composes himself for a nap. Discretion, Worldly Wisdom, and other trusted officers of her court, and even, sometimes, thatagile page called Memory, no sooner see their royal mistress departthan, by various doors, they leave the palace and wander far away. Then, silently, with sparkling eyes, and parted lips, comes that fairbeing, Unthinking Love. She puts one foot upon the lower step ofthe throne; she looks about her; and, with a quick bound, she seatsherself. Upon her tumbled curls she hastily puts the crown; with hersmall white hand she grasps the sceptre; and then, rising, waves it, and issues her commands. The crowd of emotions which serve as hersatellites, seize the great seal from the sleeping Prudence, and thenew Queen reigns!

All this now happened to Lawrence. Never before had he looked into theeyes of a woman who loved him; and, leaning over towards this one, heput his arm around her and drew her towards him. "And never shall yoube alone, " he said. 

She looked up at him with tears starting to her eyes, and then she puther head against his breast. She was too happy to say anything, andshe did not try. 

It was about a minute after this, that the sober sorrel, who took nointerest in what had occurred behind him, and a great deal of interestin his stable at home, started in an uncertain and hesitating way;and, finding that he was not checked, began to move onward. Lawrencelooked up from the little head upon his breast, and called out, "Whoa!" To this, however, the sorrel paid no attention. Lawrencethen put forth his right hand to grasp the reins, but having latelyforgotten all about them, they had fallen out of the spring-wagon, andwere now dragging upon the ground. It was impossible for him to reachthem, and so, seizing the whip, he endeavored with its aid to hookthem up. Failing in this, he was about to jump out and run to thehorse's head; but, perceiving his intention, Annie seized his arm. "Don't you do it!" she exclaimed. "You'll ruin your ankle!"

Lawrence could not but admit to himself that he was not in conditionto execute any feats of agility, and he also felt that Annie had avery charming way of holding fast to his arm, as if she had a rightto keep him out of danger. And now the sorrel broke into the jog-trotwhich was his usual pace. "It is very provoking, " said Lawrence, "Idon't think I ever allowed myself to drop the reins before. "

"It doesn't make the slightest difference, " said Annie, comfortingly. "This old horse knows the road perfectly well, and he doesn't need abit of driving. He will take us home just as safely as if you heldthe reins, and now don't you try to get them, for you will only hurtyourself. "

"Very well, " said Lawrence, putting his arm around her again, "I amresigned. But I think you are very brave to sit so quiet and composed, under the circumstances. "

She looked at him with a smile. "Such a little circumstance don'tcount, just now, " she said. "You must stop that, " she added, presently, "when we get to the edge of the woods. "

Before long, they came out into the open country and found themselvesin a lane which led by a wide circuit to the road passing MrsKeswick's house. The old sorrel certainly behaved admirably; he heldback when he descended a declivity; he walked over the rough places;and he trotted steadily where the road was smooth. 

"It seems like our Fate, " said Annie, who now sat up without an armaround her, the protecting woods having been left behind, "he justtakes us along without our having anything to do with it. "

"He is not much of a horse, " said Lawrence, clasping, in anunobservable way, the little hand which lay by his side, "but the Fateis charming. "

Fortunately there was no one upon the road to notice the reinlessplight in which these two young people found themselves, and they werequite as well satisfied as if they had been doing their own driving. After a little period of thought, Annie turned an earnest face toLawrence, and she said: "Do you know that I never believed that youwere really in love with Roberta March. "

Lawrence squeezed her hand, but did not reply. He knew very well thathe had loved Roberta March, and he was not going to lie about it. 

"I thought so, " she continued, "because I did not believe that anyone, who was truly in love, would want to send other people about, topropose for him, as you did. "

"That is not exactly the state of the case, " he said, "but we must nottalk of those things now. That is all passed and gone. "

"But if there ever was any love, " she persisted, "are you sure that itis all gone?"

"Gone, " he answered, earnestly, "as utterly and completely as the daysof last summer. "

And now the sorrel, of his own accord, stopped at Mrs Keswick's outergate; and Lawrence, getting down, took up the reins, opened the gate, and drove to the house in quite a proper way. 

When Mr Croft helped Annie to descend from the spring-wagon, he didnot squeeze her hand, nor exchange with her any tender glances, forold Mrs Keswick was standing at the top of the steps. "Have you seenLetty?" she asked. 

"Letty?" said Miss Annie. "Oh, yes, " she added, as if she suddenlyremembered that such a person existed, "Letty was at church, and shewas very active. "

"Well, " said the old lady, "she must have taken more interest in theexercises than you did, for it is long past the time when I told hershe must be home. "

"I do not believe, madam, " said Lawrence, "that any one could havetaken more interest in the exercises of this morning, than we have. "

At this, Annie could not help giving him a little look which wouldhave provoked reflection in the mind of the old lady, had she not beenvery earnestly engaged in gazing out into the road, in the hope ofseeing Letty. 

When Lawrence had gone into the office, and had closed the door behindhim, he stood in a meditative mood before the empty fireplace. He wasmaking inquiries of himself in regard to what he had just done. Hewas not accusing himself, nor indulging in regrets; he was simplyinvestigating the matter. Here he stood, a man accepted by two women. If he had ever heard of any other man in a like condition, he wouldhave called that man a scoundrel, and yet he did not deem himself ascoundrel. 

The facts in the case were easy enough to understand. For the firsttime in his life he had looked into the eyes of a woman who loved him, and he had discovered to his utter surprise that he loved her. Therehad been no plan; no prudent outlook into her nature and feelings;no cautious insight into his own. He had taken part in a mostunpremeditated act of pure and simple love; and that it was real andpure love on each side, he no more doubted than he doubted that helived. And yet, had he been an impostor when, on that hill over there, he told Roberta March he loved her? No, he had been honest, he hadloved her; and, since the time that he had been roused to action bythe discovery of Junius Keswick's intentions to renew his suit, it hadbeen a love full of a rare and alluring beauty. But its charm, itsfascination, its very existence, had disappeared in the first flash ofhis knowledge that Annie Peyton loved him. Had his love for Robertabeen a perfect one, had he been sure that she returned it, then itcould not have been overthrown; but it had gone, and a love, completeand perfect, stood in its place. He had seen that he was loved, and heloved. That was all, but it would stand forever. 

This was the state of the case, and now Lawrence set himself todiscover if, in all ways, he had acted truly and honestly. He had beenaccepted by Miss March, but what sort of acceptance was it? Should he, as a man true to himself, accept such an acceptance? What was he tothink of a woman who, very angry as he had been informed, had sent hima message, which meant everything in the world to him, if it meantanything, and had then dashed away without allowing him a chance tospeak to her, or even giving him a nod of farewell. The last thing shehad really said to him in this connection were those cruel words onPine Top Hill, with which she had asked him to choose a spot in whichto be rejected. Could he consider himself engaged? Would a woman whocared for him act towards him in such a manner? After all, was thatacceptance anything more than the result of pique? And could he not, quite as justly, accept the rejection which she had professed herselfanxious to give him. 

A short time before, Lawrence had done his best to explain to hisadvantage these peculiarities of his status in regard to Miss March. He had said to himself that she had threatened to reject him becauseshe wished to punish him, and he had intended to implore her pardon, and expected to receive it. Over and over again, had he argued withhimself in this strain, and yet, in spite of it all, he had not beenable to bring himself into a state of mind in which he could sit downand write to her a letter, which, in his estimation, would be certainto seal and complete the engagement. "How very glad I am, " he now saidto himself, "that I never wrote that letter!" And this was the onlydecision at which he had arrived, when he heard Mrs Keswick calling tohim from the yard. 

He immediately went to the door, when the old lady informed him, thatas Letty had not come back, and did not appear to be intending to comeback, and that as none of the other servants on the place had madetheir appearance, he might as well come into the house, and try tosatisfy his hunger on what cold food she and Mrs Null had managed tocollect. 

The most biting and spicy condiments of the little meal, to which thethree sat down, were supplied by Mrs Keswick, who reviled withoutstint those utterly thoughtless and heedless colored people, who, oncein the midst of their crazy religious exercises, totally forgot thatthey owed any duty whatever to those who employed them. Lawrence andAnnie did not say much, but there was something peculiarly piquant inthe way in which Annie brought and poured out the tea she had made, and which, with the exception of the old lady's remarks, was the onlywarm part of the repast; and there was an element of buoyancy in themanner of Mr Croft, as he took his cup to drink the tea. Although hesaid little at this meal, he thought a great deal, listening not atall to Mrs Keswick's tirades. "What a charmingly inconsiderate affairthis has been!" he said to himself. "Nothing planned, nothing providedfor, or against; all spontaneous, and from our very hearts. I neverthought to tell her that she must say nothing to her aunt, until wehad agreed how everything should, be explained, and I don't believethe idea that it is necessary to say anything to anybody, has enteredher mind. But I must keep my eyes away from her if I don't want tobring on a premature explosion. "

Whatever might be the result of the reasoning which this young manhad to do with himself, it was quite plain that he was abundantlysatisfied with things as they were. 

It was beginning to be dark, when Letty and Uncle Isham returned andexplained why they had been so late in returning. 

Old Aunt Patsy had died in church. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

"Lawrence, " said Annie, on the forenoon of the next day, as they weresitting together in the parlor with the house to themselves, MrsKeswick having gone to Aunt Patsy's cabin to supervise proceedingsthere, "Lawrence, don't you feel glad that we did not have a chance tospeak to dear old Aunt Patsy about those little shoes? Perhaps she hadforgotten that she had stolen them, and so went to heaven without thatsin on her soul. "

"That is a very comfortable way of looking at it, " said Lawrence, "butwouldn't it be better to assume that she did not steal them?"

"I am very sorry, " said Annie, "but that is not easy to do. But don'tlet us think anything more about that. And, don't you feel very gladthat the poor old creature, who looked so happy as she sat singing andclapping her hands on her knees, didn't die until after we had leftthe church? If it had happened while we were there, I don't believe--"

"Don't believe what?" asked Lawrence. 

"Well, that you now would be sitting with your arm on the back of mychair. "

Lawrence was quite sure, from what had been told him, that AuntPatsy's demise had taken place before they left the church, but hedid not say so to Annie. He merely took his arm from the back of herchair, and placed it around her. 

"And do you know, " said she, "that Letty told me something, thismorning, that is so funny and yet in a certain way so pathetic, thatit made me laugh and cry both. She said that Aunt Patsy always thoughtthat you were Mr Null. "

At this, Lawrence burst out laughing, but Annie checked him and wenton; "And she told Letty in church, when she saw us two come in, thatshe believed she could die happy now, since she had seen Miss Anniemarried to such a peart gentleman, and that it looked as if old misshad got over her grudge against him. "

"And didn't Letty undeceive her?" asked Lawrence. 

"No, she said it would be a pity to upset the mind of such an oldwoman, and she didn't do it. "

"Then the good Aunt Patsy died, " said Lawrence, "thinking I was thatwretched tramp of a bone-dust pedler, which the fancy of your aunt hasconjured up. That explains the interest the venerable colored womantook in me. It is now quite easy to understand; for, if your auntabused your mythical husband to everybody, as she did to me, I don'twonder Aunt Patsy thought I was in danger. "

"Poor old woman, " said Annie, looking down at the floor, "I am so gladthat we helped her to die happy. "

"As she was obliged to anticipate the truth, " said Lawrence, "in orderto derive any comfort from it, I am glad she did it. But although I amdelighted, more than my words can tell you, to take the place of yourMr Null, you must not expect me to have any of his attributes. "

"Now just listen to me, sir, " said Annie. "I don't want you to say oneword against Mr Null. If it had not been for that good Freddy, thingswould have been very different from what they are now. If you care forme at all, you owe me entirely to Freddy Null. "

"Entirely?" asked Lawrence. 

"Of course I mean in regard to opportunities of finding out things andsaying them. If Aunt Keswick had supposed I was only Annie Peyton, shewould not have allowed Mr Croft to interfere with her plans for Juniusand me. I expected Mr Null to be of service to me, but no one couldhave imagined that he would have brought about anything like this. "

"Blessed be Null!" exclaimed Lawrence. 

Annie asked him to please to be more careful, for how did he know thatone of the servants might not be sweeping the front porch, and ofcourse, they would look in at the windows. 

"But, my dear child, " said Lawrence, pushing back his chair to aprudent distance, "we must seriously consider this Null business. Weshall have to inform your aunt of the present state of affairs, andbefore we do that, we must explain what sort of person Frederick Null, Esquire, really was--I am not willing to admit that he exists, even asa myth. "

"Oh dear! oh dear!" exclaimed Annie. "We shall have a dreadful time!When Aunt Keswick knows that there never was any Mr Null, and thenhears that you and I are engaged, it will throw her into the mostdreadful state of mind that she has ever been in, in her life; andfather has told me of some of the awful family earthquakes that AuntKeswick has brought about, when things went wrong with her. "

"We must be very cautious, " said Lawrence, "and neither of us must saya word, or do anything that may arouse her suspicions, until we havesettled upon the best possible method of making the facts known toher. The case is indeed a complicated one. "

"And what makes it more so, " said Annie, "is Aunt Keswick's beliefthat you are in love with Miss March, and that you want to get achance to propose to her. She does think that, doesn't she?"

"Yes, " said Lawrence, "I must admit that she does. "

"And she must be made to understand that that is entirely at an end, "continued Annie. "All this will be a very difficult task, Lawrence, and I don't see how it is to be done. "

"But we shall do it, " he answered, "and we must not forget to be veryprudent, until it is fully settled how we shall do it. "

When Lawrence retired to his room, and sat down to hold that peculiarcourt in which he was judge, jury, lawyers, and witnesses, as well asthe prisoner at the bar, he had to do with a case, a great deal morecomplicated and difficult than that which perplexed the mind of MissAnnie Peyton. He began by the very unjudicial act of pledging himself, to himself, that nothing should interfere with this new, this truelove. In spite of all that might be said, done, or thought, AnniePeyton should be his wife. There was no indecision, whatever, inregard to the new love; the only question was: "What is to be doneabout the old one?"

Lawrence could not admit, for a moment, that he could have spoken toRoberta March as he had spoken, if he had not loved her; but he couldnow perceive that that love had been in no small degree impaired andweakened by the manner of its acceptance. The action of Miss March onher last day here had much more chilled his ardor than her wordson Pine Top Hill. He had not, before, examined thoroughly into thecondition of that ardor after the departure of the lady, but it wasplain enough now. 

There was, therefore, no doubt whatever in regard to his love for MissMarch; he was quite ready and able to lay that aside. But what abouther acceptance of it? How could he lay that aside?

This was the real case before the court. The witnesses could give noavailable testimony, the lawyers argued feebly, the jury disagreed, and Lawrence, in his capacity of judge, dismissed the case. In hisefforts to conduct his mind through the channels of law and equity, Lawrence had not satisfied himself, and his thoughts began to be movedby what might be termed his military impulses. "I made a charge intothe camp, " he said with a little downward drawing of the corners ofhis mouth, "and I did not capture the commander-in-chief. And now Iintend to charge out again. "

He sat down to his table, and wrote the following note:

"My Dear Miss March:

"I have been waiting for a good many days, hoping to receive, either from you or Mr Keswick, an explanation of the message yousent to me by him. I now believe that it will be impossible to give asatisfactory explanation of that message. I therefore recur to our lastprivate interview, and wish to say to you that I am ready, at any time, to meet you under either a sycamore or a cherry tree. "

And then he signed it, and addressed it to Miss March at Midbranch. This being done, he put on his hat, and stepped out to see if amessenger could be found to carry the letter to its destination, forhe did not wish to wait for the semi-weekly mail. Near the house hemet Annie. 

"What have you been doing all this time?" she asked. 

"I have been writing a letter, " he said, "and am now looking for somecolored boy who will carry it for me. "

"Who is it to?" she asked. 

"Miss March, " was his answer. 

"Let me see it, " said Annie. 

At this, Lawrence looked at her with wide-open eyes, and then helaughed. Never, since he had been a child, had there been any one whowould have thought of such a thing as asking to see a private letterwhich he had written to some one else; and that this young girl shouldstand up before him with her straightforward expectant gaze and makesuch a request of him, in the first instance, amused him. 

"You don't mean to say, " she added, "that you would write anything toMiss March which you would not let me see. "

"This letter, " said Lawrence, "was written for Miss March, and no oneelse. It is simply the winding up of that old affair. "

"Give it to me, " said Annie, "and let me see how you wound it up. "

Lawrence smiled, looked at her in silence for a moment, and thenhanded her the letter. 

"I don't want you to think, " she said, as she took it, "that I amgoing to ask you to show me all the letters you write. But when youwrite one to a lady like Miss March, I want to know what you say toher. " And then she read the letter. When she had finished, she turnedto Lawrence, and with her countenance full of amazement, exclaimed: "Ihaven't the least idea in the world what all this means! What messagedid she send you? And why should you meet her under a tree?"

These questions went so straight to the core of the affair, and wereso peculiarly difficult to answer, that Lawrence, for the moment, found himself in the very unusual position of not knowing what to say, but he presently remarked: "Do you think it is of any advantage toeither of us to talk over this affair, which is now past and gone?"

"I don't want to talk over any of it, " said Annie, very promptly, "except the part of it which is referred to in this letter; but I wantto know about that. "

"That covers the most important part of it, " said Lawrence. 

"Very good, " she answered, "and so you can tell it to me. And now, that I think of it, you can tell me, at the same time, why you wantedto find my cousin Junius. You refused once to tell me that, you know. "

"I remember, " said Lawrence. "And if you have the least feeling aboutit I will relate the whole affair, from beginning to end. "

"That, perhaps, will be the best thing to do, after all, " said Annie. "And suppose we take a walk over the fields, and then you can tell itwithout being interrupted. "

But Lawrence did not feel that his ankle would allow him to acceptthis invitation, for it had hurt him a good deal since his walk toAunt Patsy's cabin. He said so to Annie, and excited in her thedeepest feelings of commiseration. 

"You must take no more walks of any length, " she exclaimed, "until youare quite, quite well! It was my fault that you took that tramp toAunt Patsy's. I ought to have known better. But then, " she said, looking up at him, "you were not under my charge. I shall take verygood care of you now. "

"For my part, " he said, "I am glad I have this little relapse, for nowI can stay here longer. "

"I am very, very sorry for the relapse, " said she, "but awfully gladfor the stay. And you mustn't stand another minute. Let us go and sitin the arbor. The sun is shining straight into it, and that will makeit all the more comfortable, while you are telling me about thosethings. "

They sat down in the arbor, and Lawrence told Annie the whole historyof his affair with Miss March, from the beginning to the end; that isif the end had been reached; although he intimated to her no doubtupon this point. This avowal he had never expected to make. In facthe had never contemplated its possibility. But now he felt a certainsatisfaction in telling it. Every item, as it was related, seemedthrown aside forever. "And now then, my dear Annie, " he said, when hehad finished, "what do you think of all that?"

"Well, " she said, "in the first place, I am still more of the opinionthan I was before, that you never were really in love with her. Youdid entirely too much planning, and investigating, and calculating;and when, at last, you did come to the conclusion to propose to her, you did not do it so much of your own accord, as because you foundthat another man would be likely to get her, if you did not make apretty quick move yourself. And as to that acceptance, I don't thinkanything of it at all. I believe she was very angry at Junius becausehe consented to bring your messages, when he ought to have been hisown messenger, and that she gave him that answer just to rack his soulwith agony. I don't believe she ever dreamed that he would take it toyou. And, to tell the simple truth, I believe, from what I saw of herthat morning, that she was thinking very little of you, and a greatdeal of him. To be sure, she was fiery angry with him, but it isbetter to be that way with a lover, than to pay no attention to him atall. "

This was a view of the case which had never struck Lawrence before, and although it was not very flattering to him, it was verycomforting. He felt that it was extremely likely that this young womanhad been able to truthfully divine, in a case in which he had failed, the motives of another young woman. Here was a further reason forcongratulating himself that he had not written to Miss March. 

"And as to the last part of the letter, " said Annie, "you are notgoing under any cherry tree, or sycamore either, to be refused by her. What she said to you was quite enough for a final answer, without anysigning or sealing under trees, or anywhere else. I think the bestthing that can be done with this precious epistle is to tear it up. "

Lawrence was amused by the piquant earnestness of this decision. "Butwhat am I to do, " he asked, "I can't let the matter rest in thisunfinished and unsatisfactory condition. "

"You might write to her, " said Annie, "and tell her that you haveaccepted what she said to you on Pine Top Hill as a conclusive answer, and that you now take back everything you ever said on the subjectyou talked of that day. And do you think it would be well to put inanything about your being otherwise engaged?"

At this Lawrence laughed. "I think that expression would hardlyanswer, " he said, "but I will write another note, and we shall see howyou like it. "

"That will be very well, " said the happy Annie, "and if I were you I'dmake it as gentle as I could. It's of no use to hurt her feelings. "

"Oh, I don't want to do that, " said Lawrence, "and now that we havethe opportunity, let us consider the question of informing your auntof our engagement. "

"Oh dear, dear, dear!" said Annie, "that is a great deal worse thaninforming Miss March that you don't want to be engaged to her. "

"That is true, " said Lawrence. "It is not by any means an easy pieceof business. But we might as well look it square in the face, anddetermine what is to be done about it. "

"It is simple enough, just as we look at it, " said Annie. "All we haveto do, is to say that, knowing that Aunt Keswick had written to myfather that she was determined to make a match between cousin Juniusand me, I was afraid to come down here without putting up someinsurmountable obstacle between me and a man that I had not seen sinceI was a little girl. Of course I would say, very decidedly, that Iwouldn't have married him if I hadn't wanted to; but then, consideringAunt Keswick's very open way of carrying out her plans, it would havebeen very unpleasant, and indeed impossible for me to be in the housewith him unless she saw that there was no hope of a marriage betweenus; and for this reason I took the name of Mrs Null, or Mrs Nothing;and came down here, secure under the protection of a husband whonever existed. And then, we could say that you and I were a good dealtogether, and that, although you had supposed, when you came here, that you were in love with Miss March, you had discovered that thiswas a mistake, and that afterwards we fell in love with each other, and are now engaged. That would be a straightforward statement ofeverything, just as it happened; but the great trouble is: How are wegoing to tell it to Aunt Keswick?"

"You are right, " said Lawrence. "How are we going to tell it?"

"It need not be told!" thundered a strong voice close to their ears. And then there was a noise of breaking lattice-work and crackingvines, and through the back part of the arbor came an old womanwearing a purple sun-bonnet, and beating down all obstacles beforeher with a great purple umbrella. "You needn't tell it!" cried MrsKeswick, standing in the middle of the arbor, her eyes glistening, herform trembling, and her umbrella quivering in the air. "You needn'ttell it! It's told!"

Graphic and vivid descriptions have been written of those furiousstorms of devastating wind and deluging rain, which suddenly sweepaway the beauty of some fair tropical scene; and we have read, too, ofdreadful cyclones and tornadoes, which rush, in mad rage, over landand sea, burying great ships in a vast tumult of frenzied waves, orcrushing to the earth forests, buildings, everything that may lie intheir awful paths; but no description could be written which couldgive an adequate idea of the storm which now burst upon Lawrence andAnnie. The old lady had seen these two standing together in the yard, conversing most earnestly. She had then seen Annie read a letterthat Lawrence gave her; and then she had perceived the two, in closeconverse, enter the arbor, and sit down together without the slightestregard for the rights of Mr Null. 

Mrs Keswick looked upon all this as somewhat more out-of-the-way thanthe usual proceedings of these young people, and there came into hermind a curiosity to know what they were saying to each other. So sheimmediately repaired to the large garden, and quietly made her way tothe back of the arbor, in which advantageous position she heard thewhole of Lawrence's story of his love-affair with Miss March; Annie'sremarks upon the same, and the facts of this young lady's proposedconfession in regard to her marriage with Mr Null, and her engagementto Mr Croft. 

Then she burst in upon them; the tornado and the cyclone raged; thethunder rolled and crashed; and the white lightning of her wrathflashed upon the two, as if it would scathe and annihilate them, asthey stood before her. Neither of them had ever known or imaginedanything like this. It had been long since Mrs Keswick had had anopportunity of exercising that power of vituperative torment, whichhad driven a husband to the refuge of a reverted pistol; which hadbanished, for life, relatives and friends; and which, in the shape ofa promissory curse, had held apart those who would have been husbandand wife; and now, like the long stored up venom of a serpent, itburst out with the direful force given by concentration and retention. 

At the first outburst, Annie had turned pale and shrunk back, but nowshe clung to the side of Lawrence, who, although his face was somewhatblanched and his form trembled a little with excitement, still stoodup bravely, and endeavored, but ineffectually, to force upon the oldlady's attention a denial of her bitter accusations. With face almostas purple as the bonnet she wore, or the umbrella she shook inthe air, the old lady first addressed her niece. With scorn andcondemnation she spoke of the deceit which the young girl hadpractised upon her. But this part of the exercises was soon over. Sheseemed to think that although nothing could be viler than Annie'sconduct towards her, still the fact that Mr Null no longer existed, put Annie again within her grasp and control, and made it unnecessaryto say much to her on this occasion. It was upon Lawrence that themain cataract of her fury poured. It would be wrong to say that shecould not find words to express her ire towards him. She found plentyof them, and used them all. He had deceived her most abominably; hehad come there, the expressed and avowed lover of Miss March; he hadconnived with her niece in her deceit; he had taken advantage of allthe opportunities she gave him to attain the legitimate object of hisvisit, to inveigle into his snares this silly and absurd young woman;and he had dared to interfere with the plans, which, by day and bynight, she had been maturing for years. In vain did Lawrence endeavorto answer or explain. She stopped not, nor listened to one word. 

"And you need not imagine, " she screamed at him, "that you are goingto turn round, when you like, and marry anybody you please. You areengaged, body and soul, to Roberta March, and have no right, by lawsof man or heaven, to marry anybody else. If you breathe a word of loveto any other woman it makes you a vile criminal in the eyes of thelaw, and renders you liable to prosecution, sir. Your affianced brideknows nothing of what her double-faced snake of a lover is doing here, but she shall know speedily. That is a matter which I take into my ownhands. Out of my way, both of you!"

And with these words she charged by them, and rushed out of the arbor, and into the house. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

They were not a happy pair, Lawrence Croft and Annie Peyton, as theystood together in the arbor, after old Mrs Keswick had left them. Theywere both a good deal shaken by the storm they had passed through. 

"Lawrence, " said Annie, looking up to him with her large eyes full ofearnestness, "there surely is no truth in what she said about yourbeing legally bound to Miss March?"

"None in the least, " said Lawrence. "No man, under the circumstances, would consider himself engaged to a woman. At any rate, there isone thing which I wish you to understand, and that is that I am notengaged to Miss March, and that I am engaged to you. No matter what issaid or done, you and I belong to each other. "

Annie made no answer, but she pressed his hand tightly as she lookedup into his face. He kissed her as she stood, notwithstanding hisbelief that old Mrs Keswick was fully capable of bounding down on him, umbrella in hand, from an upper window. 

"What do you think she is going to do?" Annie asked presently. 

"My dear Annie, " said he, "I do not believe that there is a person onearth who could divine what your Aunt Keswick is going to do. As tothat, we must simply wait and see. But, for my part, I know what Imust do. I must write a letter to Miss March, and inform her, plainlyand definitely, that I have ceased to be a suitor for her hand. Ithink also that it will be well to let her know that we are engaged?"

"Yes, " said Annie, "for she will be sure to hear it now. But she willthink it is a very prompt proceeding. "

"That's exactly what it was, " said Lawrence, smiling, "prompt anddetermined. There was no doubt or indecision about any part of ouraffair, was there, little one?"

"Not a bit of it, " said Annie, proudly. 

At dinner that day Annie took her place at one end of the table, and Lawrence his at the other, but the old lady did not make herappearance. She was so erratic in her goings and comings, and had sooften told them they must never wait for her, that Annie cut the ham, and Lawrence carved the fowl, and the meal proceeded without her. Butwhile they were eating Mrs Keswick was heard coming down stairs fromher room, the front door was opened and slammed violently, and fromthe dining-room windows they saw her go down the steps, across theyard, and out of the gate. 

"I do hope, " ejaculated Annie, "that she has not gone away to stay!"

If Annie had remembered that the boy Plez, in a clean jacket and longwhite apron, officiated as waiter, she would not have said this, butthen she would have lost some information. "Ole miss not gone tostay, " he said, with the license of an untrained retainer. "She goneto Howlettses, an' she done tole Aun' Letty she'll be back agin disebenin'. "

"If Aunt Keswick don't come back, " said Annie, when the two were inthe parlor after dinner, "I shall go after her. I don't intend todrive her out of the house. "

"Don't you trouble yourself about that, my dear, " said Lawrence. "Sheis too angry not to come back. "

"There is one thing, " said Annie, after a while, "that we really oughtto do. To-morrow Aunt Patsy is to be buried, and before she is putinto the ground, those little shoes should be returned to AuntKeswick. It seems to me that justice to poor Aunt Patsy requires thatthis should be done. Perhaps now she knows how wicked it was to stealthem. "

"Yes, " said Lawrence, "I think it would be well to put them back wherethey belong; but how can you manage it?"

"If you will give them to me, " said Annie, "I will go up to aunt'sroom, now that she is away, and if she keeps the box in the same placewhere it used to be, I'll slip them into it. I hate dreadfully to doit, but I really feel that it is a duty. "

When Lawrence, with some little difficulty, walked across the yard toget the shoes from his trunk, Annie ran after him, and waited at theoffice door. "You must not take a step more than necessary, " she said, "and so I won't make you come back to the house. "

When Lawrence gave her the shoes, and her hand a little squeeze at thesame time, he told her that he should sit down immediately and writehis letter. 

"And I, " said Annie, "will go, and see what I can do with these. "

With the shoes in her pocket, she went up stairs into her aunt's room, and, after looking around hastily, as if to see that the old lady hadnot left the ghost of herself in charge, she approached the closet inwhich the sacred pasteboard box had always been kept. But the closetwas locked. Turning away she looked about the room. There was no otherplace in which there was any probability that the box would be kept. Then she became nervous; she fancied she heard the click of the yardgate; she would not for anything have her aunt catch her in that room;nor would she take the shoes away with her. Hastily placing them upona table she slipped out, and hurried into her own room. 

It was about an hour after this, that Mrs Keswick came rapidly up thesteps of the front porch. She had been to Howlett's to carry a letterwhich she had written to Miss March, and had there made arrangementsto have that letter taken to Midbranch very early the next morning. She had wished to find some one who would start immediately, but asthere was no moon, and as the messenger would arrive after the familywere all in bed, she had been obliged to abandon this more energeticline of action. But the letter would get there soon enough; and if itdid not bring down retribution on the head of the man who lodged inher office, and who, she said to herself, had worked himself into herplans, like the rot in a field of potatoes, she would ever after admitthat she did not know how to write a letter. All the way home she hadconned over her method of action until Mr Brandon, or a letter, shouldcome from Midbranch. 

She had already attacked, together, the unprincipled pair who foundshelter in her house, and she now determined to come upon themseparately, and torment each soul by itself. Annie, of course, wouldcome in for the lesser share of the punishment, for the fact thatthe wretched and depraved Null was no more, had, in a great measure, mitigated her offence. She was safe, and her aunt intended to hold herfast, and do with her as she would, when the time and Junius came. Butupon Lawrence she would have no mercy. When she had delivered him intothe hands of Mr Brandon, or those of Roberta's father, or the clutchesof the law, she would have nothing more to do with him, but until thattime she would make him bewail the day when he deceived and imposedupon her by causing her to believe that he was in love with anotherwhen he was, in reality, trying to get possession of her niece. Therewere a great many things which she had not thought to say to him inthe arbor, but she would pour the whole hot mass upon his head thatevening. 

Stamping up the stairs, and thumping her umbrella upon every step asshe went, hot vengeance breathing from between her parted lips, andher eyes flashing with the delight of prospective fury, she enteredher room. The light of the afternoon had but just begun to wane, andshe had not made three steps into the apartment, before her eyes fellupon a pair of faded, light blue shoes, which stood side by side upona table. She stopped suddenly, and stood, pale and rigid. Her graspupon her umbrella loosened, and, unnoticed, it fell upon the floor. Then, her eyes still fixed upon the shoes, she moved slowly sidewisetowards the closet. She tried the door, and found it still locked;then she put her hand in her pocket, drew out the key, looked at it, and dropped it. With faltering steps she drew near the table, andstood supporting herself by the back of a chair. Any one else wouldhave seen upon that table merely a pair of baby's shoes; but she sawmore. She saw the tops of the little socks which she had folded awayfor the last time so many years before; she saw the first short dressher child had ever worn; it was tied up with pink ribbons at theshoulders, from which hung two white, plump, little arms. There was alittle neck, around which was a double string of coral fastened by asmall gold clasp. Above this was a face, a baby face, with soft, paleeyes, and its head covered with curls of the lightest yellow, notarranged in artistic negligence, but smooth, even, and regular, as sheso often had turned, twisted, and set them. It was indeed her babygirl who had come to her as clear and vivid in every feature, limb, and garment, as were the real shoes upon the table. For many minutesshe stood, her eyes fixed upon the little apparition, then, slowly, she sank upon her knees by the chair, her sun-bonnet, which she hadnot removed, was bowed, so the pale eyes of the little one could notsee her face, and from her own eyes came the first tears that that oldwoman had shed since her baby's clothes had been put away in the box. 

 * * * * *

Lawrence's letter to Miss March was a definitely expressed document, intended to cover all the ground necessary, and no more; but it couldnot be said that it was entirely satisfactory to himself. His case, tosay the least of it, was a difficult one to defend. He was aware thathis course might be looked upon by others as dishonorable, although heassured himself that he had acted justly. It might have been betterto wait for a positive declaration from Miss March, that she had nottruly accepted him, before engaging himself to another lady. But then, he said to himself, true love never waits for anything. At all events, he could write no better letter than the one he had produced, and hehoped he should have an opportunity to show it to Annie before he sentit. 

He need not have troubled himself in this regard, for he and Anniewere not disturbed during the rest of that day by the appearanceof Mrs Keswick; but after the letter had been duly considered andapproved, he found it difficult to obtain a messenger. There was noone on the place who would undertake to walk to Midbranch, and hecould not take the liberty of using Mrs Keswick's horse for the trip, so it was found necessary to wait until the morrow, when the lettercould be taken to Howlett's, where, if no one could be found to carryit immediately, it would have to be entrusted to the mail which wentout the next day. Lawrence, of course, knew nothing of Mrs Keswick'smessage to Midbranch, or he would have been still more desirous thathis letter should be promptly dispatched. 

The evening was not a very pleasant one; the lovers did not know atwhat moment the old lady might descend upon them, and the element ofunpleasant expectancy which pervaded the atmosphere of the house wassomewhat depressing. They talked a good deal of the probabilities ofMrs Keswick's action. Lawrence expected that she would order him away, although Annie had stoutly maintained that her aunt would have noright to do this, as he was not in a condition to travel. Thisargument, however, made little impression upon Lawrence, who was notthe man to stay in any house where he was not wanted; besides, he knewvery well that for any one to stay in Mrs Keswick's house when she didnot want him, would be an impossibility. But he did not intend to slipaway in any cowardly manner, and leave Annie to bear alone the bruntof the second storm. He felt sure that such a storm was impending, andhe was also quite certain that its greatest violence would break uponhim. He would stay, therefore, and meet the old lady when she nextdescended upon them, and, before he went away, he would endeavor toutter some words in defence of himself and Annie. 

They separated early, and a good deal of thinking was done by thembefore they went to sleep. 

The next morning they had only each other for company at breakfast, but they had just risen from that meal when they were startled by theentrance of Mrs Keswick. Having expected her appearance during thewhole of the time they were eating, they had no reason to be startledby her coming now, but for their subsequent amazement at herappearance and demeanor, they had every reason in the world. Her facewas pale and grave, with an air of rigidity about it, which wasnot common to her, for, in general, she possessed a very mobilecountenance. Without speaking a word, she advanced towards Lawrence, and extended her hand to him. He was so much surprised that while hetook her hand in his he could only murmur some unintelligible form ofmorning salutation. Then Mrs Keswick turned to Annie, and shook handswith her. The young girl grew pale, but said not a word, but sometears came into her eyes, although why this happened she could nothave explained to herself. Having finished this little performance, the old lady walked to the back window, and looked out into the flowergarden, although there was really nothing there to see. Now Anniefound voice to ask her aunt if she would not have some breakfast. 

"No, " said Mrs Keswick, "my breakfast was brought up-stairs to me. "And with that she turned and went out of the room. She closed the doorbehind her, but scarcely had she done so, when she opened it againand looked in. It was quite plain, to the two silent and astonishedobservers of her actions, that she was engaged in the occupation, veryunusual with her, of controlling an excited condition of mind. Shelooked first at one, and then at the other, and then she said, in avoice which seemed to meet with occasional obstructions in its course:"I have nothing more to say about anything. Do just what you please, only don't talk to me about it. " And she closed the door. 

"What is the meaning of all this?" said Lawrence, advancing towardsAnnie. "What has come over her?"

"I am sure I don't know, " said Annie, and with this she burst intotears, and cried as she would have scorned to cry, during the terriblestorm of the day before. 

That morning, Lawrence Croft was a very much puzzled man. What hadhappened to Mrs Keswick he could not divine, and at times he imaginedthat her changed demeanor was perhaps nothing but an artful cover tosome new and more ruthless attack. 

Annie took occasion to be with her aunt a good deal during themorning, but she reported to Lawrence that the old lady had said verylittle, and that little related entirely to household affairs. 

Mrs Keswick ate dinner with them. Her manner was grave, and evenstern; but she made a few remarks in regard to the weather and someneighborhood matters; and before the end of the meal both Lawrence andAnnie fancied that they could see some little signs of a return to herusual humor, which was pleasant enough when nothing happened to makeit otherwise. But expectations of an early return to her ordinarymanner of life were fallacious; she did not appear at supper; and shespent the evening in her own room. Lawrence and Annie had thus ampleopportunity to discuss this novel and most unexpected state ofaffairs. They did not understand it, but it could not fail to cheerand encourage them. Only one thing they decided upon, and that wasthat Lawrence could not go away until he had had an opportunity offully comprehending the position, in relation to Mrs Keswick, in whichhe and Annie stood. 

About the middle of the evening, as Lawrence was thinking that it wastime for him to retire to his room in the little house in the yard, Letty came in with a letter which she said had been brought fromMidbranch by a colored man on a horse; the man had said there was noanswer, and had gone back to Howlett's, where he belonged. 

The letter was for Mr Croft and from Miss March. Very much surprisedat receiving such a missive, Lawrence opened the envelope. His letterto Miss March had not yet been sent, for the new state of affairs hadnot only very much occupied his mind, but it also seemed to renderunnecessary any haste in the matter, and he had concluded to mail theletter the next day. This, therefore, was not in answer to anythingfrom him; and why should she have written?

It was with a decidedly uneasy sensation that Lawrence began to readthe letter, Annie watching him anxiously as he did so. The letter wasa somewhat long one, and the purport of it was as follows: The writerstated that, having received a most extraordinary and astoundingepistle from old Mrs Keswick, which had been sent by a specialmessenger, she had thought it her duty to write immediately on thesubject to Mr Croft, and had detained the man that she might send thisletter by him. She did not pretend to understand the full purport ofwhat Mrs Keswick had written, but it was evident that the old ladybelieved that an engagement of marriage existed between herself (MissMarch) and Mr Croft. That that gentleman had given such informationto Mrs Keswick she could hardly suppose, but, if he had, it must havebeen in consequence of a message which, very much to her surprise andgrief, had been delivered to Mr Croft by Mr Keswick. In order thatthis message might be understood, Miss March had determined to make afull explanation of her line of conduct towards Mr Croft. 

During the latter part of their pleasant intercourse at Midbranchduring the past summer, she had reason to believe that Mr Croft'sintentions in regard to her were becoming serious, but she had alsoperceived that his impulses, however earnest they might have been, were controlled by an extraordinary caution and prudence, which, although it sometimes amused her, was not in the least degreecomplimentary to her. She could not prevent herself from resentingthis somewhat peculiar action of Mr Croft, and this resentment grewinto a desire, which gradually became a very strong one, that shemight have an opportunity of declining a proposal from him. Thatopportunity came while they were both at Mrs Keswick's, and she hadintended that what she said at her last interview with Mr Croft shouldbe considered a definite refusal of his suit, but the interview hadterminated before she had stated her mind quite as plainly as she hadpurposed doing. She had not, however, wished to renew the conversationon the subject, and had concluded to content herself with what she hadalready said; feeling quite sure that her words had been sufficientto satisfy Mr Croft that it would be useless to make any furtherproposals. 

When, on the eve of her departure from the house, Mr Keswick hadbrought her Mr Croft's message, she was not only amazed, butindignant; not so much at Mr Croft for sending it, as at Mr Keswickfor bringing it. Miss March was not ashamed to confess that she wasirritated and incensed to a high degree that a gentleman who had heldthe position towards her that Mr Keswick had held, should bring hersuch a message from another man. She was, therefore, seized with asudden impulse to punish him, and, without in the least expecting thathe would carry such an answer, she had given him the one which he hadtaken to Mr Croft. Having, until the day on which she was writing, heard nothing further on the subject, she had supposed that herexpectations had been realized. But on this day the astonishing letterfrom Mrs Keswick had arrived, and it made her understand that notonly had her impulsive answer been delivered, but that Mr Crofthad informed other persons that he had been accepted. She wished, therefore, to lose no time in stating to Mr Croft that what she hadsaid to him, with her own lips, was to be received as her finalresolve; and that the answer given to Mr Keswick was not intended forMr Croft's ears. 

Miss March then went on to say that it might be possible that she owedMr Croft an apology for the somewhat ungracious manner in which shehad treated him at Mrs Keswick's house; but she assured herselfthat Mr Croft owed her an apology, not only for the manner of hisattentions, but for the peculiar publicity he had given them. In thatcase the apologies neutralized each other. Miss March had no intentionof answering Mrs Keswick's letter. Under no circumstances couldshe have considered, for a moment, its absurd suggestions andrecommendations; and it contained allusions to Mr Croft and anotherperson which, if not founded upon the imagination of Mrs Keswick, certainly concerned nothing with which Miss March had anything to do. 

The proud spirit of Lawrence Croft was a good deal ruffled when heread this letter, but he made no remark about it. "Would you like toread it?" he said to Annie. 

She greatly desired to read it, but there was something in her lover'sface, and in the tone in which he spoke, which made her suspect thatthe reading of that letter might be, in some degree, humiliating tohim. She was certain, from the expression of his face as he read it, that the letter contained matter very unpleasant to Lawrence, and itmight be that it would wound him to have another person, especiallyherself, read them; and so she said: "I don't care to read it if youwill tell me why she wrote to you, and the point of what she says. "

"Thank you, " said Lawrence. And he crumpled the letter in his hand ashe spoke. "She wrote, " he continued, "in consequence of a letter shehas had from your aunt. "

"What!" exclaimed Annie. "Did Aunt Keswick write to her?"

"Yes, " said Lawrence, "and sent it by a special messenger. She musthave told her all the heinous crimes with which she charged you andme, particularly me; and this must have been the first intimation toMiss March that her cousin had given me the answer she made to him;therefore Miss March writes in haste to let me know that she did notintend that that answer should be given to me, and that she wishes itgenerally understood that I have no more connection with her than Ihave with the Queen of Spain. That is the sum and substance of theletter. "

"I knew as well as I know anything in the world, " said Annie, "thatthat message Junius brought you meant nothing. " And, taking thecrumpled letter from his hand, she threw it on the few embers thatremained in the fireplace; and, as it blazed and crumbled into blackashes, she said: "Now that is the end of Roberta March!"

"Yes, " said Lawrence, emphasizing his remark with an encircling arm, "so far as we are concerned, that is the end of her. "

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

On the next day, old Aunt Patsy was buried. Mrs Keswick and Annieattended the ceremonies in the cabin, but they did not go to theburial. After a time, it might be in a week or two, or it might be ina year, the funeral sermon would be preached in the church, and theywould go to hear that. Aunt Patsy never finished her crazy quilt, several pieces being wanted to one corner of it; but in the few dayspreceding her burial two old women of the congregation, with tremblinghands and uncertain eyes, sewed in these pieces, and finished thequilt, in which the body of the venerable sister was wrapped, according to her well-known wish and desire. It is customary among thenegroes to keep the remains of their friends a very short time afterdeath, but Aunt Patsy had lived so long upon this earth that it wasgenerally conceded that her spirit would not object to her bodyremaining above ground until all necessary arrangements should becompleted, and until all people who had known or heard of her had hadan opportunity of taking a last look at her. As she had been so verywell known to almost everybody's grandparents, a good many peopleavailed themselves of this privilege. 

After Mrs Keswick's return from Aunt Patsy's cabin, where, accordingto her custom, she made herself very prominent, it was noticeable thatshe had dropped some of the grave reserve in which she had wrappedherself during the preceding day. It was impossible for her, at leastbut for a very short time, to act in a manner unsuited to her nature;and reserve and constraint had never been suited to her nature. She, therefore, began to speak on general subjects in her ordinary freemanner to the various persons in her house; but it must not besupposed that she exhibited any contrition for the outrageous way inwhich she had spoken to Annie and Lawrence, or gave them any reasonto suppose that the laceration of their souls on that occasion was amatter which, at present, needed any consideration whatever from her. An angel, born of memory and imagination, might come to her fromheaven, and so work upon her superstitious feelings as to induce herto stop short in her course of reckless vengeance; but she would not, on that account, fall upon anybody's neck, or ask forgiveness foranything she had done to anybody. She did not accuse herself, norrepent; she only stopped. "After this, " she said, "you all can do asyou please. I have no further concern with your affairs. Only don'ttalk to me about them. "

She told Lawrence, in a manner that would seem to indicate a moderate, but courteous, interest in his welfare, that he must not think ofleaving her house until his ankle had fully recovered its strength;and she even went so far as to suggest the use of a patent lotionwhich she had seen at the store at Howlett's. She resumed her formerintercourse with Annie, but it seemed impossible for her to entirelyforget the deception which that young lady had practised upon her. Theonly indication, however, of this resentment was the appellation whichshe now bestowed upon her niece. In speaking of her to Lawrence, orany of the household, she invariably called her "the late Mrs Null, "and this title so pleased the old lady that she soon began to use itin addressing her niece. Annie occasionally remonstrated in a mannerwhich seemed half playful, but was in fact quite earnest, but her auntpaid no manner of attention to her words, and continued to pleaseherself by this half-sarcastic method of alluding to her niece'sfictitious matrimonial state. 

Letty, and the other servants, were at first much astonished by thenew title given to Miss Annie, and the only way in which they couldexplain it was by supposing that Mr Null had gone off somewhere anddied; and although they could not understand why Miss Annie shouldshow so little grief in the matter, and why she had not put onmourning, they imagined that these were customs which she had learnedin the North. 

Lawrence advised Annie to pay no attention to this whim of her aunt. "It don't hurt either of us, " he said, "and we ought to be very gladthat she has let us off so easily. But there is one thing I think youought to do; you should write to your cousin Junius, and tell him ofour engagement; but I would not refer at all to the other matter; youare not supposed to have anything to do with it, and Miss March cantell him as much about it as she chooses, Mr Keswick wrote me that hewas going to Midbranch, and that he would communicate with me whilethere, but, as I have not since heard from him, I presume he is stillin Washington. "

A letter was, therefore, written by Annie, and addressed to Junius, in Washington, and Lawrence drove her to the railroad station in thespring-wagon, where it was posted. The family mail came bi-weekly toHowlett's, as the post-office at the railroad station was entirely toodistant for convenience; and as Saturday approached it was evident, from Mrs Keswick's occasional remarks and questions, that she expecteda letter. It was quite natural for Lawrence and Annie to surmise thatthis letter was expected from Miss March, for Mrs Keswick had notheard of any rejoinder having been made to her epistle to that lady. When, late on Saturday afternoon, the boy Plez returned fromHowlett's, Mrs Keswick eagerly took from him the well-wornletter-bag, and looked over its contents. There was a letter for herand from Midbranch, but the address was written by Junius, not by MissMarch. There was another in the same hand-writing for Annie. Asthe old lady looked at the address on her letter, and then on itspost-mark, she was evidently disappointed and displeased, but she saidnothing, and went away with it to her room. Annie's letter was inanswer to the one she had sent to Washington, which had been promptlyforwarded to Midbranch where Junius had been for some days. It beganby expressing much surprise at the information his cousin had givenhim in regard to her assumption of a married title, and although shehad assured him she had very good reasons, he could not admit that itwas right and proper for her to deceive his aunt and himself in thisway. If it were indeed necessary that other persons should supposethat she were a married woman, her nearest relatives, at least, shouldhave been told the truth. 

At this passage, Annie, who was reading the letter aloud, and Lawrencewho was listening, both laughed. But they made no remarks, and thereading proceeded. 

Junius next alluded to the news of his cousin's engagement to MrCroft. His guarded remarks on this subject showed the kindness of hisheart. He did not allude to the suddenness of the engagement, nor tothe very peculiar events that had so recently preceded it; but readingbetween the lines, both Annie and Lawrence thought that the writer hadprobably given these points a good deal of consideration. In a generalway, however, it was impossible for him to see any objection to sucha match for his cousin, and this was the impression he endeavored togive in a very kindly way, in his congratulations. But, even here, there seemed to be indications of a hope, on the part of the writer, that Mr Croft would not see fit to make another short tack in hiscourse of love. 

Like the polite gentleman he was, Mr Keswick allowed his own affairsto come in at the end of the letter. Here he informed his cousin thathis engagement with Miss March had been renewed, and that they were tobe married shortly after Christmas. As it must have been very plain tothose who were present when Miss March left his aunt's house, that sheleft in anger with him, he felt impelled to say that he had explainedto her the course of action to which she had taken exception, andalthough she had not admitted that that course had been a justifiableone, she had forgiven him. He wished also to say at this point thathe, himself, was not at all proud of what he had done. 

"That was intended for me, " interrupted Lawrence. 

"Well, if you understand it, it is all right, " said Annie. 

Junius went on to say that the renewal of his engagement was due, ingreat part, to Miss March's visit to his aunt; and to a letter she hadreceived from her. A few days of intercourse with Mrs Keswick, whomshe had never before seen, and the tenor and purpose of that letter, had persuaded Miss March that his aunt was a person whose mind hadpassed into a condition when its opposition or its action ought not tobe considered by persons who were intent upon their own welfare. Hisown arrival at Midbranch, at this juncture, had resulted in the happyrenewal of their engagement. 

"I don't know Junius half as well as I wish I did, " said Annie, as shefinished the letter, "but I am very sure, indeed, that he will makea good husband, and I am glad he has got Roberta March--as he wantsher. "

"Did you emphasize 'he'?" asked Lawrence. 

"I will emphasize it, if you would like to hear me do it, " said she. 

"It's very queer, " remarked Annie, after a little pause, "thatI should have been so anxious to preserve poor Junius from yourclutches, and that, after all I did to save him, I should fall intothose clutches myself. "

Whereupon Lawrence, much to her delight, told her the story of theanti-detective. 

Mrs Keswick sat down in her room, and read her letter. She had nointention of abandoning her resolution to let things go as they would;and, therefore, did not expect to follow up, with further words oractions, anything she had written in her letter to Roberta March. Butshe had had a very strong curiosity to know what that lady would sayin answer to said letter, and she was therefore disappointed anddispleased that the missive she had received was from her nephew, andnot from Miss March. She did not wish to have a letter from Junius. She knew, or rather very much feared, that it would contain news whichwould be bad news to her, and although she was sure that such newswould come to her sooner or later, she was very much averse toreceiving it. 

His letter to her merely touched upon the points of Mrs Null, and hiscousin's engagement to Mr Croft; but it was almost entirely filledwith the announcement, and most earnest defence, of his own engagementto Roberta March. He said a great deal upon this subject, and he saidit well. But it is doubtful if his fervid, and often affectionate, expressions made much impression upon his aunt. Nothing could make theold lady like this engagement, but she had made up her mind that hemight do as he pleased, and it didn't matter what he said about it; hehad done it, and there was an end of it. 

But there was one thing that did matter: That unprincipled andiniquitous old man Brandon had had his own way at last; and she andher way had been set aside. This was the last of a series of injuriesto her and her family with which she charged Mr Brandon and hisfamily; but it was the crowning wrong. The injury itself she did notso much deplore, as that the injurer would profit by it. Arrestedin her course of raging passion by a sudden flood of warm andirresistible emotion, she had resigned, as impetuously as she hadtaken them up, her purposes of vengeance, and consequently, her plansfor her nephew and niece. But she was a keen-minded, as well aspassionate old woman, and when she had considered the altered stateof affairs, she was able to see in it advantages as well asdisappointment and defeat. From what she had learned of LawrenceCroft's circumstances and position, and she had made a good manyinquiries on this subject of Roberta March, he was certainly a goodmatch for Annie; and, although she hated to have anything to do withMidbranch, it could not be a bad thing for Junius to be master of thatlarge estate, and that Mr Brandon had repeatedly declared he would be, if he married Roberta. Thus, in the midst of these reverses, there wassomething to comfort her, and reconcile her to them. But there was nobalm for the wound caused by Mr Brandon's success and her failure. 

With the letter of Junius open in her hand, she sat, for a long time, in bitter meditation. At length a light gradually spread itself overher gloomy countenance. Her eyes sparkled; she sat up straight in herchair, and a broad smile changed the course of the wrinkles on hercheeks. She arose to her feet; she gave her head a quick jerk ofaffirmation; she clapped one hand upon the other; and she said aloud:"I will bless, not curse!"

And with that she went happy to bed. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

On the following Monday, Lawrence announced that his ankle was nowquite well enough for him to go to New York, where his affairsrequired his presence. Neither he, nor the late Mrs Null, regardedthis parting with any satisfaction, but their very natural regrets atthe necessary termination of these happy autumn days were a good dealtempered by the fact that Lawrence intended to return in a few weeks, and that then the final arrangements would be made for their marriage. It was not easy to decide what these arrangements would be, for inspite of the many wrongnesses of the old lady's head and heart, Anniehad conceived a good deal of affection for her aunt, and felt a strongdisinclination to abandon her to her lonely life, which would be morelonely than before, now that Junius was to be married. On the otherhand, Lawrence, although he had discovered some estimable points inthe very peculiar character of Mrs Keswick, had no intention of livingin the same house with her. This whole matter, therefore, was left inabeyance until the lovers should meet again, some time in December. 

Lawrence and Annie had desired very much that Junius should visit thembefore Mr Croft's departure for the North, for they both had a highesteem for him, and both felt a desire that he should be as wellsatisfied with their matrimonial project as they were with his. Butthey need not have expected him. Junius had conceived a dislike for MrCroft, which was based in great part upon disapprobation of what hehimself had done in connection with that gentleman; and this mannerof dislike is not easily set aside. The time would come when he wouldtake Lawrence Croft and Annie by the hand, and honestly congratulatethem, but for that time they must wait. 

Lawrence departed in the afternoon; and the next day Mrs Keswick setabout that general renovation and rearrangement of her establishmentwhich many good housewives consider necessary at certain epochs, suchas the departure of guests, the coming in of spring, or the advent ofwinter. These arrangements occupied two days, and on the evening thatthey were finished to her satisfaction, the old lady informed herniece, that early the next morning, she was going to start forMidbranch, and that it was possible, nay, quite probable, that shewould stay there over a night. "I might go and come back the sameday, " she said, "but thirty miles a day is too much for Billy, andbesides, I am not sure I could get through what I have to do, if I donot stay over. I would take you with me but this is not to be a merevisit; I have important things to attend to, and you would be in theway. You got along so well without me when you first came here thatI have no doubt you will do very well for one night. I shall drivemyself, and take Plez along with me, and leave Uncle Isham and Lettyto take care of you. "

Under ordinary circumstances Annie would have been delighted to go toMidbranch, a place she had never seen, and of which she had heard somuch, but she had no present desire to see Roberta March, and said so;further remarking that she was very willing to stay by herself fora night. She hoped much that her aunt would proceed with theconversation, and tell her why she had determined upon such anextraordinary thing as a visit to Midbranch; where she knew the oldlady had not been for many, many years. But Mrs Keswick had nothingfurther to say upon this subject, and began to talk of other matters. 

After a very early breakfast next morning, Mrs Keswick set outupon her journey, driving the sorrel horse with much steadiness, intermingled with severity whenever he allowed himself to drop out ofhis usual jogging pace. Plez sat in the back part of the spring-wagon, and whenever the old lady saw an unusually large stone lying in thetrack of the road, she would stop, and make him get out and throw itto one side. 

"I believe, " she said, on one of these occasions, "that a thousand menin buggies might pass along this road thrice a day for a year, andnever think of stopping to throw that rock out of the way of people'swheels. They would steer around it every time, or bump over it, butsuch a thing as moving it would never enter their heads. "

The morning was somewhat cool, but fine, and the smile whichoccasionally flitted over the corrugated countenance of Mrs Keswickseemed to indicate that she was in a pleasant state of mind, whichmight have been occasioned by the fine weather and the good conditionof the roads, or by cheerful anticipations connected with her visit. 

It was not very long after noonday that, with a stifled remark ofdisapprobation upon her lips, she drew up at the foot of the broadflight of steps by which one crossed the fence into the Midbranchyard. Giving Billy into the charge of Plez, with directions to takehim round to the stables and tell somebody to put him up and feed him, she mounted the steps, and stopped for a minute or so on the broadplatform at the top; looking about her as she stood. Everything, thehouse, the yard, the row of elms along the fence, the wide-spreadingfields, and the farm buildings and cabins, some of which she could seearound the end of the house, were all on a scale so much larger andmore imposing than those of her own little estate that, althoughnothing had changed for the better since the days when she wasfamiliar with Midbranch, she was struck with the general superiorityof the Brandon possessions to her own. Her eyes twinkled, and shesmiled; but there did not appear to be anything envious about her. 

She presented a rather remarkable figure as she stood in thisconspicuous position. Annie had insisted, when she was helping heraunt to array herself for the journey, that she should wear a bonnetwhich for many years had been her head-gear on Sundays and importantoccasions, but to this the old lady positively objected. She was notgoing on a mere visit of state or ceremony; her visit at Midbranchwould require her whole attention, and she did not wish to distracther mind by wondering whether her bonnet was straight on her head ornot, and she was so unaccustomed to the feel of it that she wouldnever know if it got turned hind part foremost. She could never be ather ease, nor say freely what she wished to say, if she were dressedin clothes to which she was not accustomed. She was perfectlyaccustomed to her sun-bonnet, and she intended to wear that. Of courseshe carried her purple umbrella, and she wore a plain calico dress, blue spotted with white, which was very narrow and short in theskirt, barely touching the tops of her shoes, the stoutest and mostserviceable that could be procured in the store at Howlett's. Shecovered her shoulders with a small red shawl which, much to Annie'ssurprise, she fastened with a large and somewhat tarnished silverbrooch, an ornament her niece had never before seen. Attired thus, shecertainly would have attracted attention, had there been any onethere to see, but the yard was empty, and the house door closed. Shedescended the steps, crossed the yard with what might be termed abuoyant gait, and, mounting the porch, knocked on the door with thehandle of her umbrella. After some delay a colored woman appeared, andas soon as the door was opened, Mrs Keswick walked in. 

"Where is your master?" said she, forgetting all about theEmancipation Act. 

"Mahs' Robert is in the libery, " said the woman. 

"And where are Miss Roberta March and Master Junius Keswick?"

"Miss Rob went Norf day 'fore yestiddy, " was the answer, "an' Mahs'Junius done gone 'long to 'scort her. Who shall I tell Mahs' Robert iscome?"

"There is no need to tell him who I am, " said Mrs Keswick. "Just takeme in to him. That's all you have to do. "

A good deal doubtful of the propriety of this proceeding, butmore doubtful of the propriety of opposing the wishes of such adetermined-looking visitor, the woman stepped to the back part of thehall, and opened the door. The moment she did so, Mrs Keswick entered, and closed the door behind her. 

Mr Brandon was seated in an arm chair by a table, and not very farfrom a wood fire of a size suited to the season. His slippered feetwere on a cushioned stool; his eye-glasses were carefully adjusted onthe capacious bridge of his nose; and, intent upon a newspaper whichhad arrived by that morning's mail, he presented the appearance of avery well satisfied old gentleman, in very comfortable circumstances. But when he turned his head and saw the Widow Keswick close the doorbehind her, every idea of satisfaction or comfort seemed to vanishfrom his mind. He dropped the paper; he rose to his feet; he tookoff his eye-glasses; he turned somewhat red in the face; and heejaculated: "What! madam! So it is you, Mrs Keswick?"

The old lady did not immediately answer. Her head dropped a little onone side, a broad smile bewrinkled the lower part of her well-wornvisage, and with her eyes half-closed, behind her heavy spectacles, she held out both her hands, the purple umbrella in one of them, andexclaimed in a voice of happy fervor: "Robert! I am yours!"

Mr Brandon, recovered from his first surprise, had made a step forwardto go round the table and greet his visitor; but at these words hestopped as if he had been shot. Perception, understanding, and evenanimation, seemed to have left him as he vacantly stared at theelderly female with purple sun-bonnet and umbrella, blue calico gown, red shawl and coarse boots, who held out her arms towards him, and whogazed upon him with an air of tender, though decrepit, fondness. 

"Don't you understand me, Robert?" she continued. "Don't you rememberthe day, many a good long year ago, it is true, when we walkedtogether down there by the branch, and you asked me to be yours? Irefused you, Robert, and, although you went down on your knees in thedamp grass and besought me to give you my heart, I would not do it. But I did not know you then as I know you now, Robert, and the wordsof true love which you spoke to me that morning come to me now witha sweetness which I was too young and trifling to notice then. Thatheart is yours now, Robert. I am yours. " And, with these words, shemade a step forward. 

At this demonstration Mr Brandon appeared suddenly to recover hisconsciousness and he precipitately made two steps backwards, justmissing tumbling over his footstool into the fireplace. 

"Madam!" he exclaimed, "what are you talking about?"

"Of the days of our courtship, and your love, Robert, " she said. "Mylove did not come then, but it is here now. Here now, " she repeated, putting the hand with the umbrella in it on her breast. 

"Madam, " exclaimed the old gentleman, "you must be raving crazy! Thosethings to which you allude, happened nearly half a century ago; andsince that you have been married and settled, and----"

"Robert, " interrupted the Widow Keswick, "you are mistaken. It is notquite forty-five years since that morning, and why should hearts likeours allow the passage of time or the mere circumstance of what mightbe called an outside marriage, but now extinct, to come between them?There is many a spring, Robert, which does not show when a man firstbegins to dig, but it will bubble up in time. And, Robert, it bubblesnow. " And with her head bent a little downwards, although her eyeswere still fixed upon him, she made another step in his direction. 

Mr Brandon now backed himself flat against some book-shelves in hisrear. The perspiration began to roll from his face, and his whole formtrembled. "Mrs Keswick! Madam!" he exclaimed, "You will drive me mad!"

The old lady dropped the end of her umbrella on the floor, rested hertwo hands on the head of it, settled herself into an easy position tospeak, and, with her head thrown back, fixed a steady gaze upon thetrembling old gentleman. "Robert, " she said, "do not try to crushemotions which always were a credit to you, although in those daysgone by I didn't tell you so. Your hair was black then, Robert, andyou looked taller, for you hadn't a stoop, and your face was verysmooth, and so was mine, and I remember I had on a white dress with abroad ribbon around the waist, and neither of us wore specs. What yousaid to me was very fresh and sweet, Robert, and it all comes to menow as it never came before. You have never loved another, Robert, andyou don't know how happy it makes me to think that, and to know that Ican come to you and find you the same true and constant lover that youwere when, forty-five years ago, you went down on your knees to me bythe branch. We can't stifle those feelings of by-gone days which wellup in our bosoms, Robert. After all these years I have learned what aprize your true love is, and I return it. I am yours. "

At this Mr Brandon opened his mouth with a spasmodic gasp, but no wordcame from him. He looked to the right and left, and then made a lungeto one side, as if he would run around the old lady and gain the door. But Mrs Keswick was too quick for him. With two sudden springs shereached the door and put her back against it. 

"Don't leave me, Robert, " she said, "I have not told you all. Don'tyou remember this breastpin?" unfastening the large silver brooch fromher shawl and holding it out to him. "You gave it to me, Robert; therewere almost tears of joy in your eyes on the first day I wore it, although I was careful to let you know it meant nothing. Where arethose tears to-day, Robert? It means something now. I have kept itall these years, although in the lifetime of Mr Keswick it was nevercleaned, and I wore it to-day, Robert, that your eyes might rest uponit once again, and that you might speak to me the words you spoke tome the day after I let you pin it on my white neckerchief. You waitedthen, Robert, a whole day before you spoke, but you needn't wait now. Let your heart speak out, dear Robert. "

But dear Robert appeared to have no power to speak, on this or anyother subject. He was half sitting, half leaning on the corner of atable which stood by a window, out of which he gave sudden agonizedand longing glances, as if, had he strength enough, he would raise thesash and leap out. 

The old lady, however, had speech enough for two. "Robert, " sheexclaimed, "how happy may we be, yet! If you wish to give up, to ayounger couple, this spacious mansion, these fine grounds and nobleelms, and come to my humble home, I shall only say to you, 'Robert, come!' I shall be alone there, Robert, and shall welcome you with joy. I have nobody now to give anything to. The late Mrs Null, by which Imean my niece, will marry a man who, if reports don't lie, is richenough to make her want nothing that I have; and as for Junius, he isto have your property, as we all know. So all I have is yours, if youchoose to come to me, Robert. But, if you would rather live here, Iwill come to you, and the young people can board with us until yourdecease; after that, I'll board with them. And I'm not sure, Robert, but I like the plan of coming here best. There are lots ofimprovements we could make on this place, with you to furnish themoney, and me to advise and direct. The first thing I'd do would beto have down those abominable steps over the front fence, and put adecent gate in its place; and then we would have a gravelled walkacross the yard to the porch, wide enough for you and me, Robert, to walk together arm-in-arm when we would go out to look over theplantation, or stroll down to that spot on the branch, Robert, wherethe first plightings of our troth began. "

The words of tender reminiscence, and of fond though rather latedevotion, with which Mrs Keswick had stabbed and gashed the soul ofthe poor old gentleman, had at first deranged his senses, and thendriven him into a state of abject despair, but the practical remarkswhich succeeded seemed to have a more direful effect upon him. Theidea of the being with the sun-bonnet and the umbrella entering intohis life at Midbranch, tearing down the broad steps which his honoredfather had built, cutting a gravelled path across the green turf whichhad been the pride of generations, and doing, no man could say whatelse, of advice and direction, seemed to strike a chill of terror intohis very bones. 

The quick perception of Mrs Keswick told her that it was time toterminate the interview. "I will not say anything more to you now, Robert, " she said. "Of course you have been surprised at my coming toyou to-day, and accepting your offer of marriage, and you must havetime to quiet your mind, and think it over. I don't doubt youraffection, Robert, and I don't want to hurry you. I am going to stayhere to-night, so that we can have plenty of time to settle everythingcomfortably. I'll go now and get one of the servants to show me to aroom where I can take off my things. I'll see you again at dinner. "

And, with a smile of antiquated coyness, she left the room. 

CHAPTER XXX. 

Mr Brandon was not a weak man, nor one very susceptible to outsideinfluences, but, in the whole course of his life, nothing soextraordinarily nerve-stirring had occurred to him as this visit ofold Mrs Keswick, endeavoring to appear in the character of the youngcreature he had wooed some forty-five years before. For a long time, Mrs Keswick had been the enemy of himself and his family; and many abitter onslaught she had made upon him, both by letter, and by word ofmouth. These he had borne with the utmost bravery and coolness, andthere were times when they even afforded him entertainment. But thismost astounding attack was something against which no man could havebeen prepared; and Mr Brandon, suddenly pounced upon in the midst ofhis comfortable bachelordom by a malevolent sorceress and hurled backto the days of his youth, was shown himself kneeling, not at the feetof a fair young girl, but before a horrible old woman. 

This amazing and startling state of affairs was too much for himimmediately to comprehend. It stunned and bewildered him. Such, indeed, was the effect upon him that the first act of his mind, whenhe was left alone, and it began to act, was to ask of itself if therewere really any grounds upon which Mrs Keswick could, with any reason, take up her position? The absolute absurdity of her position, however, became more and more evident, as Mr Brandon's mind began to straightenitself and stand up. And now he grew angry. Anger was a passion withwhich he was not at all unfamiliar, and the exercise of it seemed todo him good. When he had walked up and down his library for a quarterof an hour, he felt almost like his natural self; and with many nodsof his head and shakes of his fist, he declared that the old woman wascrazy, and that he would bundle her home just as soon as he could. 

By dinner-time he had cooled down a good deal, and he resolved totreat her with the respect due to her age and former condition ofsanity; but to take care that she should not again be alone with him, and to arrange that she should return to her home that day. 

Mrs Keswick came to the table with a smiling face, and wearing aclose-fitting white cap, which looked like a portion of her nightgear, tied under her chin with broad, stiff strings. In this sheappeared to her host as far more hideous than when wearing hersun-bonnet. Mr Brandon had arranged that two servants should wait uponthe table, so that one of them should always be in the room, but inhis supposition that the presence of a third person would have anyeffect upon the expression of Mrs Keswick's fond regard, he wasmistaken. The meal had scarcely begun, when she looked around the roomwith wide-open eyes, and exclaimed: "Robert, if we should concludeto remain here, I think we will have this room re-papered with somelight-colored paper. I like a light dining-room. This is entirely toodark. "

The two servants, one of whom was our old friend, Peggy, actuallystopped short in their duties at this remark; and as for Mr Brandon, his appetite immediately left him, to return no more during that meal. 

He was obliged to make some answer to this speech, and so he brieflyremarked that he had no desire to alter the appearance of hisdining-room, and then hastened to change the conversation by makingsome inquiries about that interesting young woman, her niece, who, hehad been informed, was not a married lady, as he had supposed her tobe. 

At this intelligence, Peggy dropped two spoons and a fork; she hadnever heard it before. 

"The late Mrs Null, " said Mrs Keswick, "is a young woman who likes tocut her clothes after her own patterns. They may be becoming to herwhen they are made up, or they may not be. But I am inclined to thinkshe has got a pretty good head on her shoulders, and perhaps sheknows what suits her as well as any of us. I can't say it was easy toforgive the trick she played on me, her own aunt, and just the same, in fact, as her mother. But Robert, " and as she said this the old ladylaid down her knife and fork, and looked tenderly at Mr Brandon, "Ihave determined to forgive everybody, and to overlook everything, and I do this as much for your sake, dear Robert, as for my own. Itwouldn't do for a couple of our age to be keeping up grudges againstthe young people for their ways of getting out of marriages or gettinginto them. We will have my niece and her husband here sometimes, won'twe, Robert?"

Mr Brandon straightened himself and remarked: "Mr Croft, whom I haveheard your niece is to marry, will be quite welcome here, with hiswife. " Then, putting his napkin on the table, and pushing back hischair, he said: "Now, madam, you must excuse me, for I have orders togive to some of my people which I had forgotten until this moment. Butdo not let me interfere with your dinner. Pray continue your meal. "

Never before had Mr Brandon been known to leave his dinner until hehad finished it, and he was not at all accustomed to give such a poorreason for his actions as the one he gave now, but it was simplyimpossible for him to sit any longer at table, and have that old womantalk in that shocking manner before the servants. 

"Robert, " cried Mrs Keswick, as he left the room, "I'll save somedessert for you, and we'll eat it together. "

Mr Brandon's first impulse, when he found himself out of thedining-room, was to mount his horse and ride away; but there was noplace to which he wished to ride; and he was a man who was very loathto leave the comforts of his home. "No, " he said. "She must go, andnot I. " And then he went into his parlor, and strode up and down. Assoon as Mrs Keswick had finished her dinner, he would see her there, and speak his mind to her. He had determined that he would not againbe alone with her, but, since the presence of others was no restraintwhatever upon her, it had become absolutely necessary that he shouldspeak with her alone. 

It was not long before the Widow Keswick, with a brisk, blithe step, entered the parlor. "I couldn't eat without you, Robert, " she cried, "and so I really haven't half finished my dinner. Did you have to comein here to speak to your people?"

Mr Brandon stepped to the door, and closed it. "Madam, " he said, "itwill be impossible for me, in the absence of my niece, to entertainyou here to-night, and so it would be prudent for you to start forhome as soon as possible, as the days are short. It would be too muchof a journey for your horse to go back again to-day, and your vehicleis an open one; therefore I have ordered my carriage to be prepared, and you may trust my driver to take you safely home, even if it shouldbe dark before you get there. If you desire it, there is a youngmaid-servant here who will go with you. "

"Robert, " said Mrs Keswick, approaching the old gentleman and gazingfondly upward at him, "you are so good, and thoughtful, and sweet. Butyou need not put yourself to all that trouble for me. I shall stayhere to-night, and in your house, dear Robert, I can take care ofmyself a great deal better than any lady could take care of me. "

"Madam, " exclaimed Mr Brandon, "I want you to stop calling me by myfirst name. You have no right to do so, and I won't stand it. "

"Robert, " said the old lady, looking at him with an air of tenderupbraiding, "you forget that I am yours, now, and forever. "

Never, since he had arrived at man's estate, and probably not before, had Mr Brandon spoken in improper language to a lady, but now it wasall he could do to restrain himself from the ejaculation of an oath, but he did restrain himself, and only exclaimed: "Confound it, madam, I cannot stand this! Why do you come here, to drive me crazy with yoursenseless ravings?"

"Robert, " said Mrs Keswick, very composedly "I do not wonder that mycoming to you and accepting the proposals which you once so heartilymade to me, and from which you have never gone back, should work agood deal upon your feelings. It is quite natural, and I expected it. Therefore don't hesitate about speaking out your mind; I shall not beoffended. So that we belong to each other for the rest of our days, Idon't mind what you say now, when it is all new and unexpected to you. You and I have had many a difference of opinion, Robert, and yourplans were not my plans. But things have turned out as you wished, andyou have what you have always wanted; and with the other good things, Robert, you can take me. " And, as she finished speaking, she held outboth hands to her companion. 

With a stamp of his foot, and a kick at a chair which stood in hisway, Mr Brandon precipitately left the room, and slammed the doorafter him; and if Peggy had not nimbly sprung to one side, he wouldhave stumbled over her, and have had a very bad fall for a man of hisage. 

It was not ten minutes after this, that, looking out of a window, MrsKeswick saw a saddled horse brought into the back yard. She hastenedinto the hall, and found Peggy. "Run to Mr Brandon, " she said, "andbid him good-bye for me. I am going up stairs to get ready to go home, and haven't, time to speak to him, myself, before he starts on hisride. "

At the receipt of this message the heart of Mr Brandon gave a boundwhich actually helped him to get into the saddle, but he did nothesitate in his purpose of instant departure. If he staid, but fora moment, she might come out to him, and change her mind, so he putspurs to his horse and galloped away, merely stopping long enough, ashe passed the stables, to give orders that the carriage be preparedfor Mrs Keswick, and taken round to the front. 

As he rode through the cool air of that fine November afternoon, thespirits of Mr Brandon rose. He felt a serene satisfaction in assuringhimself that, although he had been very angry, indeed, with MrsKeswick, on account of her most unheard of and outrageous conduct, yethe had not allowed his indignation to burst out against her in any wayof which he would afterward be ashamed. Some hasty words had escapedhim, but they were of no importance, and, under the circumstances, noone could have avoided speaking them. But, when he had addressed herat any length, he had spoken dispassionately and practically, and she, being at bottom a practical woman, had seen the sense of his advice, and had gone home comfortably in his carriage. Whether she took herinsane fancies home with her, or dropped them on the road, it matteredvery little to him, so that he never saw her again; and he did notintend to see her again. If she came again to his house, he wouldleave it and not return until she had gone; but he had no reason tosuppose that he would be forced into any such exceedingly disagreeableaction as this. He did not believe she would ever come back. For, unless she were really crazy--crazy--and in that case she ought to beput in the lunatic asylum--she could not keep up, for any length oftime, the extraordinary and outrageous delusion that he would bewilling to renew the feelings that he had entertained for her in heryouth. 

Mr Brandon rode until nearly dark, for it took a good while to freehis mind from the effects of the excitements and torments of that day. But, when he entered the house and took his seat in his library chairby the fire, he had almost regained his usual composed and wellsatisfied frame of mind. 

Then, through the quietly opened door, came Mrs Keswick, andstealthily stepping towards him in the fitful light of the blazinglogs, she put her hand on his arm and said: "Dear Robert, how glad Iam to see you back!"

The next morning, about ten o'clock, Mrs Keswick sent her eighteenthor twentieth message to Mr Brandon, who had shut himself up in hisroom since a little before supper-time on the previous evening. Themessage was sent by Peggy, and she was instructed to shout it outsideof her master's door until he took notice of it. Its purport was thatit was necessary that Mrs Keswick should go home to-day, and that herhorse was harnessed and she was now ready to go, but that she couldnot think of leaving until she had seen Mr Brandon again. She wouldtherefore wait until he was ready to come down. 

Mr Brandon looked out of the window and saw the spring-wagon at theoutside of the broad stile, with Plez standing at the sorrel's head. He remembered that the venerable demon had said, at the first, thatshe intended to stay but one night, and he could but believe that shewas now really going. Knowing her as he did, however, he was very wellaware that if she had said she would not leave until she had seen him, she would stay in his house for a year, unless he sooner went down toher; therefore he opened his door, and slowly and feebly descended thestairs. 

"My dear, dear Robert!" exclaimed Mrs Keswick, totally regardless ofthe fact that Peggy was standing at the front door with her valise inher hand, and that there was another servant in the hall, "how pale, and haggard, and worn you look! You must be quite unwell, and I don'tknow but that I ought to stay here and take care of you. "

At these words a look of agony passed over the old man's face, but hesaid nothing. 

"But I am afraid I cannot stay any longer this time, " continued theWidow Keswick, "for my niece would not know what had become of me, andthere are things at home that I must attend to; but I will come again. Don't think I intend to desert you, dear Robert. You shall see me soonagain. But while I am gone, " she said, turning to the two servants, "Iwant you maids to take good care of your master. You must do it forhis sake, for he has always been kind to you, but I also want youto do it for my sake. Don't you forget that. And now, dear Robert, good-bye. " As she spoke, she extended her hand towards the oldgentleman. 

Without a word, but with a good deal of apparent reluctance, he tookthe long, bony hand in his, and probably, would have instantly droppedit again, had not Mrs Keswick given him a most hearty clutch, and avigorous and long-continued shake. 

"It is hard, dear Robert, " she said, "for us to part, with nothing buta hand-shake, but there are people about, and this will have todo. " And then, after urging him to take good care of his health, sovaluable to them both, and assuring him that he would soon see heragain, she gave his hand a final shake, and left him. Accompanied byPeggy, she went out to the spring-wagon and clambered into it. Italmost surpasses belief that Mr Brandon, a Virginia gentleman of theold school, should have stood in his hall, and have seen an old ladyleave his house and get into a vehicle, without accompanying andassisting her; but such was the case on this occasion. He seemed tohave forgotten his traditions, and to have lost his impulses. Hesimply stood where the Widow Keswick had left him, and gazed at her. 

When she was seated, and ready to start, the old lady turned towardshim, called out to him in a cheery voice: "Good-bye, Robert!" andkissed her hand to him. 

Mrs Keswick slowly drove away, and Mr Brandon stood at his halldoor, gazing after her until she was entirely out of sight. Then heejaculated: "The Devil's daughter!" and went into his library. 

"I wonders, " said Peggy when she returned to the kitchen, "how youall's gwine to like habin dat ole Miss Keswick libin h'yar as youall's mistiss. "

"Who's gwine to hab her?" growled Aunt Judy. 

"You all is, " sturdily retorted Peggy. "Dar ain't no use tryin' to gitout ob dat. Dat old Miss Keswick done gone an' kunjered Mahs' Robert, an' dey's boun' to git mar'ed. I done heered all 'bout it, an' she'scomin' h'yar to lib wid Mahs' Robert. But dat don' make no dif'renceto me. I's gwine to lib wid Mahs' Junius an' Miss Rob in New York, Iis. But I's mighty sorry for you all. "

"You Peggy, " shouted the irate Aunt Judy, "shut up wid your fool talk!When Mahs' Robert marry dat ole jimpsun weed, de angel Gabr'el blowhis hohn, shuh. "

Slowly driving along the road to her home, the Widow Keswick gazedcheerfully at the blue sky above her, and the pleasant autumn sceneryaround her; sniffed the fine fresh air, delicately scented with theodor of falling leaves; and settling herself into a more comfortableposition on her seat, she complacently said to herself: "Well, Ireckon the old scapegrace has got his money's worth this time!"

CHAPTER XXXI. 

There were two reasons why Peggy could not go to live with "Mahs'Junius and Miss Rob" in New York. In the first place, this couplehad no intention of setting up an establishment in that city; andsecondly, Peggy, as Roberta well knew, was not adapted by nature to beher maid, or the maid of any one else. Peggy's true vocation in lifewas to throw her far-away gaze into futurity, and, as far as in herlay, to adapt present circumstances to what she supposed was going tohappen. It would have delighted her soul if she could have been theadept in conjuring, which she firmly believed the Widow Keswick to be;but, as she possessed no such gift, she made up the deficiency, aswell as she could, by mixing up her mind, her soul, and her desires, into a sort of witch's hodge-podge, which she thrust as a spellinto the affairs of other people. Twice had the devices of thisstupid-looking wooden peg of a negro girl stopped Lawrence Croft inthe path he was following in his pursuit of Roberta March. If Lawrencehad known, at the time, what Peggy was doing, he would have consideredher an unmitigated little demon; but afterward, if he could haveknown of it, he would have thought her a very unprepossessing andconscienceless guardian angel. 

As it was, he knew not what she had done, and never considered her atall. 

Junius Keswick took much more delight in farming than he did in thepractice of the law, and it was only because he had felt himselfobliged to do so, that he had adopted the legal profession. To bea farmer, one must have a farm; but a lawyer can frequently make aliving from the lands of other men. He was very willing, therefore, to agree to the plan which, for years, had been Mr Brandon's mostcherished scheme; that he and Roberta should make their home atMidbranch, and that he should take charge of the estate, which wouldbe his wife's property after the old gentleman's decease. Roberta wasas fond of the country as was Junius, but she was also a city woman;and it was arranged that the couple should spend a portion of eachwinter in New York, at the house of Mr March. 

Junius, and Roberta, as well as her father, hoped very much that theymight be able to induce Mr Brandon to come to New York to attend thewedding, which was to take place the middle of January; but they werenot confident of success, for they knew the old gentleman dislikedvery much to travel, especially in winter. Three very pressing letterswere therefore written to Mr Brandon; and the writers were muchsurprised to receive, in a short time, a collective answer, in whichhe stated that he would not only be present at the wedding, but thathe thought of spending several months in New York. It would be verylonely at Midbranch, he wrote, without Roberta--though why it shouldbe more so this year, than during preceding winters, he did notexplain--and he felt a desire to see the changes that had taken placein the metropolis since he had visited it, years ago. 

They would not have been so much surprised had they known that MrBrandon did not feel himself safe in his own home, by night or by day. Frequently had he gazed out of a window at the point in the road onwhich the first sight of an approaching spring-wagon could have beencaught; and had said to himself: "If only Roberta were here, that oldhag would not dare to speak a word to me! I don't want to go away, but, by George! I don't see how I can stay here without Rob. "

There was a short, very black, and somewhat bowlegged negro man on theplace, named Israel Bonaparte, who lived in a little cabin by himself, and was noted for his unsocial disposition, and his taciturnity. Tohim Mr Brandon went one day, and said: "Israel, I want you to go towork on the fence rows on my side of the road to Howlett's. Grub upthe bushes, clear out the vines and weeds, and see that the rails andposts are all in order. That will be a job that I expect will last youuntil the roads begin to get heavy. And, by the way, Israel, while youare at work, I want you to keep a lookout for any visitors that mayturn into our road, especially if they happen to be ladies. Now thatMiss Rob is away, I am very particular about knowing, beforehand, whenladies are coming to visit me; and when you see any wagon or carriageturn in, I want you to make a short cut across the fields, and let meknow it, and I will give you a quarter of a dollar every time you doso. " This was a very pleasant job of work for the meditative Israel. He was not very fond of grubbing, but he earned the greater part ofhis ten dollars a month and rations, by sitting on the fence, smokinga corn-cob pipe, and attending to the second division of the workwhich his employer had set him to do. 

Lawrence Croft was in New York at this time, a very busy man, arranging his affairs in that city, so that they would not needhis personal attention for some time to come; he sub-let, for theremainder of his lease, the suite of bachelor apartments he hadoccupied, and he stored his furniture and books. One might haveimagined that he was taking in all possible sails; close reefing theothers; battening down the hatches; and preparing to run before astorm; and yet his demeanor did not indicate that he expected anyviolent commotion of the elements. On the contrary, his friends andacquaintances thought him particularly blithe and gay. He told them hewas going to be married. 

"To that Virginia lady, I suppose, " said one. "I remember her verywell; and consider you fortunate. "

"I don't think you ever met her, " said Mr Croft. "She is a MissPeyton, from King Thomas County. "

"Ah!" remarked his interlocutor. Lawrence walked to the window of theclub-room, and stood there, slowly puffing his cigar. Had anybody metthis one? he thought. He knew she had seen but little company duringher father's life, but was it likely that any of his acquaintances hadhad business at Candy's Information Shop? As this idea came into hismind, there seemed to be something unpleasant in the taste of hiscigar, and he threw it into the fire. A few turns, however, up anddown the now almost deserted rooms, restored his tone; he lightedanother cigar, and now there came up before him a vision of the girlwho, from loyalty to her dead father, preferred to sit all day behindCandy's money desk rather than go to a relative who had not been hisfriend. And then he saw the young girl who took up so courageously thecause of one of her own blood--the boy cousin of her childhood; andwith a lover's pride, Lawrence thought of the dash, the spirit, andthe bravery with which she had done it. 

"By George!" he said to himself, his eyes sparkling, and his stepquickening, "she has more in her than all the rest of them puttogether!"

Who were included in "the rest of them, " Lawrence was not preparedjust then to say, but the expression was intended to have a very widerange. 

It was about the middle of December, when Lawrence paid another visitto Mrs Keswick's house. The day was cold, but clear, and as he droveup to the outer gate, he saw the old lady returning from a walk toHowlett's. She stepped along briskly, and was in a very good humor, for she had just posted a carefully concocted letter to Mr Brandon, inwhich she had expatiated, in her peculiar style, on the pleasurewhich she expected from an early visit to Midbranch. She had not theslightest idea of going there, at present, but she thought it quitetime to freshen up the old gentleman's anticipations. 

Descending from his carriage to meet her, Lawrence was very warmlygreeted, and the two went up to the house together. 

"I expect the late Mrs Null will be very glad to see you, " said MrsKeswick. "I think she has burned up all her widow's weeds. "

"You should be very much obliged to your niece, " said Mr Croft, "forso delicately ridding you of that dreadful fertilizer man. "

"Humph!" said the old lady. "She cheated me out of the pleasure oftelling him what I thought of him, and I shall never forgive her forthat. "

As Lawrence and Annie sat together in the parlor that evening, he toldher what he had been doing in New York, and this brought to her lips aquestion, which she was very anxious to have answered. She knew thatLawrence was rich; that his methods of life and thought made him a manof the cities; and she felt quite certain that the position towhich he would conduct her was that of the mistress of a handsometown-house, and the wife of a man of society. She liked handsometown-houses, and she was sure she would like society; but it would allbe very new and strange to her, and, although she was a brave girl atheart, she shrank from making such a plunge as this. 

"How are we going to live?" repeated Lawrence. "That, of course, isto be as you shall choose, but I have a plan to propose to you, and Iwant very much to hear what you think about it. And the plan is, thatwe shall not live anywhere for a year or two, but wander, fancy free, over as much of the world as pleases us; and then decide where weshall settle down, and how we shall like to do it. "

If Annie's answer had been expressed in words, it might have beengiven here. It may be said, however, that it was very quick, veryaffirmative, and, in more ways than one, highly satisfactory toLawrence. 

"Is it London, and a landlady, and tea?" she presently asked. 

"Yes, it is that, " he said. 

"Is it the shops on the Boulevards?"

"Yes, " said Lawrence. 

"And the Appian Way? And the Island of Capri? And snow mountains inthe distance?" she asked. 

"In their turn, most certainly, " said her lover, "and it shall be themidnight sun, and the Nile, if you like. "

"Freddy, " exclaimed the late Mrs Null, "I thank thee for what thouhast given me!" And she clasped the hand of Lawrence in both her own. 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

The marriage of Junius Keswick and Roberta March was appointed for thefifteenth of January, and Mr Brandon had arranged to be in New York afew days before the event. He intended, however, to leave Midbranchsoon after the first of the year, and to spend a week with some of hisfriends in Richmond. 

It was on the afternoon of New Year's Day, and Mr Brandon was sittingin his library with Colonel Pinckney Macon, an elderly gentlemanof social habits and genial temper, whom Mr Brandon had invited toMidbranch to spend the holidays, and who was afterwards to be histravelling companion as far as Richmond. The two had had a very gooddinner, and were now sitting before the fire smoking their pipes, andpaying occasional attention to two tumblers of egg-nogg, which stoodon a small table between them. They were telling anecdotes of oldentimes, and were in very good humor indeed, when a servant came in witha note, which had just been brought for Mr Brandon. The old gentlemantook the missive, and put on his eye-glasses, but the moment he readthe address, he let his hand fall on his knee, and gave vent to anangry ejaculation. 

"It's from that rabid old witch, the Widow Keswick!" he exclaimed, "I've a great mind to throw it into the fire without reading it. "

"Don't do that, " cried Colonel Macon. "It is a New Year present she issending you. Read it, sir, read it by all means. "

Mr Brandon had given his friend an account of his unexampled andastounding persecutions by the Widow Keswick, and the old colonel hadbeen much interested thereby; and it would have greatly grieved hissoul not to become acquainted with this new feature of the affair. "Read it, sir, " he cried; "I would like to know what sort of New Yearcongratulations she offers you. "

"Congratulations indeed!" said Mr Brandon; "you needn't expectanything of that kind. " But he opened the note; and, turning, so thathe could get a good light upon it, began to read aloud, as follows:

"MY DEAREST ROBERT. "

"Confound it, sir, " exclaimed the reader, "did you ever hear of such apiece of impertinence as that?"

Colonel Pinckney Macon leaned back in his chair, and laughed aloud. "It is impertinent, " he cried, "but it's confoundedly jolly! Go on, sir. Go on, I beg of you. "

Mr Brandon continued:

"It is not for me to suggest anything of the kind, but I write thisnote simply to ask you what you would think of a triple wedding? Therewould certainly be something very touching about it, and it would bevery satisfactory and comforting, I am sure, to our nieces and theirhusbands to know that they were not leaving either of us to a lonelylife. Would we not make three happy pairs, dear Robert? Remember, I donot propose this, I only lay it before your kindly and affectionateheart. 

"Your own

"Martha Ann Keswick. "

Colonel Macon, who, with much difficulty and redness of face, hadrestrained himself during the reading of this note, now burst into ashout of laughter, while Mr Brandon sprang to his feet, and crumplingthe note in his hand, threw it into the fire; and then, turningaround, he exclaimed: "Did the world ever hear anything like that!Triple wedding, indeed! Does the pestiferous old shrew imagine thatanything in this world would induce me to marry her?"

"Why, my dear sir, " cried Colonel Macon, "of course she don't. I knowthe Widow Keswick as well as you do. She wouldn't marry you to saveyour soul, sir. All she wants to do is to worry and persecute you, andto torment your senses out of you, in revenge for your having got thebetter of her. Now, take my advice, sir, and don't let her do it. 

"I'd like to know how I am going to hinder her, " said Mr Brandon. 

"Hinder her!" exclaimed Colonel Macon. "Nothing easier in this world, sir! Just you turn right square round, and face her, sir; and you'llsee that she'll stop short, sir; and, what's more, she'll run, sir!"

"How am I to face her?" asked Mr Brandon. "I have faced her, and Iassure you, sir, she didn't run. "

"That was because you did not go to work in the right way, " said thecolonel. "Now, if I were in your place, sir, this is what I would do. I'd turn on her and I'd scare her out of all the wits she has left. I'd say to her: 'Madam, I think your proposition is an excellent one. I am ready to marry you to-day, or, at the very latest, to-morrowmorning. I'll come to your house, and bring a clergyman, and some ofmy friends. Don't let there be the least delay, for I desire to startimmediately for New York, and to take you with me. ' Now, sir, a notelike that would frighten that old woman so that she would leave herhouse, and wouldn't come back for six weeks; and the letter you havejust burned would be the last attack she would make on you. Now, sir, that is what I would do if I were in your place. "

Mr Brandon sat down, drained his tumbler of egg-nogg, and began tothink of what his friend had said. And, as he thought of it, theconviction forced itself upon him that this idea of Colonel Macon'swas a good one; in fact, a splendid one. Now that he came to look uponthe matter more clearly than he had done before, he saw that thispersecution on the part of the Widow Keswick was not only base, butcowardly. He had been entirely too yielding, had given way too much. Yes, he would face her! By George! that was a royal idea! He wouldturn round, and make a dash at her, and scare her out of her fivesenses. 

Pens, ink, and paper were brought out; more egg-nogg was ordered; andMr Brandon, aided and abetted by Colonel Macon, wrote a letter to MrsKeswick. 

This letter took a long time to write, and was very carefullyconstructed. With outstretched hands, Mr Brandon met the old lady onthe very threshold of her proposition. He stated that nothing wouldplease him better than an immediate wedding, and that he would haveproposed it himself had he not feared that the lady would consider himtoo importunate. (This expression was suggested by Colonel Macon. )In order that they might lose no time in making themselves happy, MrBrandon proposed that the marriage should take place in a week, andthat the ceremony should be performed in Richmond. (The colonel wishedhim to say that he would immediately go to her house for the purpose, but Mr Brandon would not consent to write this. He was afraid that thewidow would sit at her front door with a shot-gun and wait for him, and that some damage might thereby come to an unwary neighbor. )Each of them had many old friends in Richmond, and it would be verypleasant to be married there. He intended to start for that city in aday or two, and he would be rejoiced to meet her at eleven o'clock onthe morning of the fifth instant, in the corridor, or covered bridge, connecting the Exchange and Ballard hotels, and there arrange all thedetails for an immediate marriage. The letter closed with an earnesthope that she would accede to this proposed plan, which would so soonmake them the happiest couple upon earth; and was signed "Your devotedRobert. "

"By which I mean, " said Mr Brandon, "that I am devoted to herdestruction. "

The letter was read over by Colonel Macon, and highly approved by him. "If you had met that woman, sir, when she first came to you, " he saidto Mr Brandon, "with the spirit that is shown in this letter, youwould have put a shiver through her, sir, that would have shaken thebones out of her umbrella, and she would have cut and run, sir, beforeyou knew it. "

The messenger from Howlett's was kept at Midbranch all night, andthe next morning he was sent back with Mr Brandon's note. Two daysafterward Colonel Macon and Mr Brandon started for Richmond, and inthe course of a few hours, they were comfortably sipping their "peachand honey" at the Exchange and Ballard's. 

The next day was most enjoyably spent with a number of old friends;and in reminiscences of the past war, and in discussions of the comingpolitical campaign, Mr Brandon had thrown off every sign of theannoyance and persecution to which he had lately been subjected. 

"By George, sir!" said Colonel Macon to him the next morning, "do youknow that you are a most untrustworthy and perfidious man?"

"Sir!" exclaimed Mr Brandon, "what do you mean?"

"I mean, " replied Colonel Pinckney Macon, with much dignity, "thatyou promised at eleven o'clock to-day to meet a lady in the corridorconnecting these two hotels. It wants three minutes of that time now, sir, and here you are reading the 'Dispatch' as if you never made apromise in your life. "

"I declare, " said Mr Brandon, rising, "my conduct is indefensible, but I am going to my room, and, on my way, will keep my part of thecontract. "

"I will go with you, " said the colonel. 

Together they mounted the stairs, and approached the corridor; and, asthey opened its glass doors, they saw, sitting in a chair on one sideof the passage, the Widow Keswick. 

If Mr Brandon had not been caught by his friend he would have fallenover backwards. Regaining an upright position, he made a frantic turn, as if he would fly, but he was not quick enough; Mrs Keswick had himby the arm. 

"Robert!" she exclaimed. "I knew how true and faithful you would be. It has just struck eleven. How do you do, Colonel Macon?" And sheextended her hand. 

There was no one in the corridor at the time but these three, but theplace was much used as a passageway, and Colonel Macon, who was verypale, but still retained his presence of mind, knew well, that ifany one were to come along at this moment, it would be decidedlyunpleasant, not only for his friend, but himself. "I am glad to meetyou again, Mrs Keswick, " he said. "Let us go into one of the parlors. It will be more comfortable. "

"How kind, " murmured Mrs Keswick, as she clung to the arm of MrBrandon, "for you to bring our good friend, Colonel Macon. "

They went into a parlor, which was empty, and where they were notlikely to be disturbed. Mr Brandon walked there without saying a word. His face was as pallid as its well-seasoned color would allow, and helooked straight before him with an air which seemed to indicate thathe was trying to remember something terrible, or else trying to forgetit, and that he himself did not know which it was. 

Colonel Macon did not stay long in the parlor. There was that in theair of Mrs Keswick which made him understand that there were otherplaces in Richmond where he would be much more welcome than in thatroom. He went down into the large hall where the gentlemen generallycongregate; and there, in great distress of mind, he paced up and downthe marble floor, exchanging nothing but the briefest salutations andanswers with the acquaintances he occasionally encountered. The clerk, behind his desk at one side of the hall, had seen men walking up anddown in that way, and he thought that the colonel had probably beenspeculating in tobacco or wheat; but he knew he was good for theamount of his bill, and he retained his placidity. 

In about half an hour, there came down the stairs, at one end ofthe hall, an elderly person who somewhat resembled Mr Brandon ofMidbranch. The clothes and the hat were the same that that gentlemanwore, and the same heavy gold chain with dangling seal-rings hungacross his ample waistcoat; but there was a general air of haggardnessand stoop about him which did not in the least suggest the upright andportly gentleman who had written his name in the hotel register theday before yesterday. 

Colonel Macon made five strides towards him, and seized his hand. "What, " said he, "how----?"

Mr Brandon did not look at him; he let his eyes fall where they chose;it mattered not to him what they gazed upon; and, in a low voice, hesaid: "It is all over. "

"Over!" repeated the colonel. 

Mr Brandon put a feeble hand on his friend's arm, and together theywalked into the reading room, where they sat down in a corner. 

"Have you settled it then?" asked Colonel Macon with great anxiety. "Is she gone?"

"It is settled, " said Mr Brandon. "We are to be married. "

"Married!" cried Colonel Macon, springing to his feet. "Great Heavens, man! What do you mean?"

Not very fluently, and in sentences with a very few words in each ofthem, but words that sank like hot coals into the soul of his hearer, Mr Brandon explained what he meant. It had been of no use, he said, totry to get out of it; the old woman had him with the grip of a vise. That letter had done it all. He ought to have known that she was notto be frightened, but it was needless to talk about that. It was allover now, and he was as much bound to her as if he had promised beforea magistrate. 

"But you don't mean to say, " exclaimed the colonel in a voice ofanguish, "that you are really going to marry her?"

"Sir, " said Mr Brandon, solemnly, "there is no way to get out of it. If you think there is, you don't know the woman. "

"I would have died first!" said the colonel. "I never would havesubmitted to her!"

"I did not submit, " replied Mr Brandon. "That was done when theletter was written. I roused myself, and I said everything I couldsay, but it was all useless, she held me to my promise. I told her Iwould fly to the ends of the earth rather than marry her, and then, sir, she threatened me with a prosecution for breach of promise; andthink of the disgrace that that would bring upon me; upon my familyname; and on my niece and her young husband. It was a mistake, sir, tosuppose that she merely wished to persecute me. She wished to marryme, and she is going to do it. "

The colonel bowed his face upon his hands, and groaned. Mr Brandonlooked at him with a dim compassion in his eyes. "Do not reproachyourself, sir, " he said. "We thought we were acting for the best. "

But little more was said, and two crushed old gentlemen retired totheir rooms. 

In the days of her youth, Mrs Keswick had been very well known inRichmond; and there were a good many elderly ladies and gentlemen, nowliving in that city, who remembered her as a handsome, sparkling, andsomewhat eccentric young woman, and who had since heard of her as adecidedly eccentric old one. Mr Brandon, also, had a large circle offriends and acquaintances in the city; and when it became known thatthese two elderly persons were to be married--and the news began tospread shortly after Mrs Keswick reached the house of the friend withwhom she was staying--it excited a great deal of excusable interest. 

Mrs Keswick, according to her ordinary methods of action, took all thearrangements into her own hands. She appointed the wedding for theeighth of January, in order that the happy pair might go to New York, and be present at the nuptials of Junius and Roberta. Mr Brandon hadthought of writing to Junius, in the hope that the young man might dosomething to avert his fate, but remembering how utterly unable Juniushad always been to move his aunt one inch, this way or that, he didnot believe that he could be of any service in this case, in whichall the energies of her mind were evidently engaged, and he readilyconsented that she should attend to all the correspondence. It would, indeed, have been too hard for him to break the direful truth to hisniece and Junius. He ventured to suggest that Miss Peyton be sent for, having a faint hope that he might in some manner lean upon her; butMrs Keswick informed him that her niece must stay at home to takecharge of the place. There were two women in the house, who werebusy sewing for her, and it would be impossible for her to come toRichmond. 

Her correspondence kept the Widow Keswick very busy. She decided thatshe would be married in a church which she used to attend in heryouth; and to all of her old friends, and to all those of Mr Brandonwhose names she could learn by diligent inquiry, invitations were sentto attend the ceremony; but no one outside of Richmond was invited. 

The old lady did not come to the city with a purple sun-bonnet anda big umbrella. She wore her best bonnet, which had been used forchurch-going purposes for many years, and arrayed herself in atravelling suit which was of excellent material, although of mostantiquated fashion. She discussed very freely, with her friends, thearrangements she had made, and protuberant candor being at timesone of her most noticeable characteristics, she did not leave italtogether to others to say that the match she was about to make wasa most remarkably good one. For years it had been a hard struggle forher to keep up the Keswick farm, but now she had fought a battle, andwon a victory, which ought to make her comfortable and satisfied forthe rest of her life. If Mr Brandon's family had taken a great dealfrom her, she would more than repay herself by appropriating the oldgentleman, together with his possessions. 

After the depression following the first shock, Mr Brandon endeavoredto stiffen himself. There was a great deal of pride in him, and if hewas obliged to go to the altar, he did not wish his old friends tosuppose that he was going there to be sacrificed. He had brought thisdreadful thing upon himself, but he would try to stand up like a man, and bear it; and, after all, it might not be for long; the WidowKeswick was a good deal older than he was. Other thoughts occasionallycame to comfort him; she could not make him continually live with her, and he had plans for visits to Richmond, and even to New York; and, better than that, she might want to spend a good deal of time at herown farm. 

"For the sake of my name, and my niece, " he said to himself, "I mustbear it like a man. "

And, in answer to an earnest adjuration, Colonel Pinckney Maconsolemnly promised that he would never reveal, to man or woman, thathis friend did not marry the Widow Keswick entirely of his own wishand accord. 

It was the desire of Mrs Keswick that the marriage, although conductedin church, should be very simple in its arrangements. There would beno bridesmaids or groomsmen; no flowers; no breakfast; and the couplewould be dressed in travelling costume. The friends of the old ladypersuaded her to make considerable changes in her attire, and acostume was speedily prepared, which, while it suggested the fashionsof the present day, was also calculated to recall reminiscences ofthose of a quarter of a century ago. This simplicity was the onlything connected with the affair which satisfied Mr Brandon, and hewould have been glad to have the marriage entirely private, with nomore witnesses than the law demanded. But to this Mrs Keswick wouldnot consent. She wanted to have her former friends about her. Accordingly, the church was pretty well filled with old colonels, old majors, old generals, and old judges, with their wives and theirsisters, and, in a few cases, their daughters. All the elderly peoplein Richmond, who, in the days of their youth, had known the gayMiss Matty Pettigrew, and the handsome Bob Brandon, felt a certainrejuvenation of spirit as they went to the wedding of the couple, whohad once been these two. 

The old lady looked full of life and vigor, and, despite thecircumstances, Mr Brandon preserved a good deal of his usual manlydeportment. But, when in the course of the marriage service, theclergyman came to the question in which the bride-groom was asked ifhe would have this woman to be his wedded wife, to love and keep herfor the rest of their lives, the answer, "I will, " came forth in afeeble tone, which was not wholly divested of a tinge of despondency. 

With the lady it was quite otherwise. When the like question was putto her, she stepped back, and in a loud, clear voice, exclaimed:"Not I! Marry that man, there?" she continued in a higher tone, andpointing her finger at the astounded Mr Brandon. "Not for the world, sir! Before he was born, his family defrauded and despoiled my people, and as soon as he took affairs into his own hands, he continued thevillainous law robberies until we are poor, and he is rich; and, notcontent with that, he basely wrecks and destroys the plans I had madefor the comfort of my old age, in order that his paltry purposes maybe carried out. After all that, does anybody here suppose that I wouldtake him for a husband? Marry him! Not I!" And, with these words, theold lady turned her back on the clergyman, and walked rapidly down thecentre aisle, until she reached the church door. There she stopped, and turning towards the stupefied assemblage, she snapped her bonyfingers in the air, and exclaimed: "Now, Mr Robert Brandon ofMidbranch, our account is balanced. "

She then went out of the door, and took a street car for the trainthat would carry her to her home. 

THE END.