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

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

"I am very glad," she said, "to meet a friend of my nephew. But where
are you going, Sir? Certainly not toward your horse. You must stay and
dine 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 it
is but a short ride." "Staying at Hewlett's?" exclaimed Mrs Keswick. "At
which 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 the
ground. "Tom Peckett's accommodations may be good enough for pedlers and
travelling agents, but they are not fit for gentlemen, especially one of
my nephew's friends. You must stay with us, sir, as long as you are in
this neighborhood. I insist upon it." Junius was very much astonished
at his aunt's speech and manner. The old lady was not at all
inhospitable; so far was it otherwise the case, that, rather than
deprive an objectionable visitor of the shelter of her roof, she would
go from under it herself; but he had never known her to "gush" in this
manner upon a stranger. He now felt at liberty, however, to obey his own
impulses, and urged Mr Croft to stay with them.

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

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

Before the three reached the house, Mrs Keswick had inquired how long Mr
Croft had known her niece; and had discovered, much to her
disappointment, that he had never met Mr Null. Shortly after the arrival
at the house of the gentleman on horseback little Plez ran into the
kitchen, 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 potato
she was peeling. "Well, truly, when things does happen in dis worl' dey
comes all in a lump. None ob de fam'ly been nigh de house for ebber so
long; an' den, 'long comes Mahs' Junius hisse'f, an' Miss Annie dat's
been away sence she was a chile, an' ole Mr Brandon, wot Uncle Isham say
ain't been h'yar fur years and years, an' now Miss Annie's husband comes
kitin' up! An' dar's ole Aun' Patsy wot says dat if dat gemman ebber
come h'yar she want to know it fus' thing. She was dreffle p'inted about
dat. 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', when
you gits dar, you jus' slip along, 'hind de bushes, till you's got ter
de cohn fiel', an' den you cut 'cross dar to Aun' Patsy's. An' don' you
stop no time dar, fur if ole Miss finds you's done gone, she'll chop you
up wid dem knives."

Plez was quite ready for a reckless dash of this kind, and in less than
twenty minutes old Patsy was informed that Mr Null had arrived. The old
woman was much affected by the information. She was uneasy and restless,
and talked a good deal to herself, occasionally throwing out a moan or a
lament in the direction of her "son Tom's yaller boy Bob's chile." The
crazy quilt, which was not yet finished, though several pieces had been
added since we last saw it, was laid aside; and by the help of the above
mentioned great granddaughter the old hair trunk was hauled out and
opened. 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 which
had become historic. At length she pulled out from one of the corners of
the trunk a pair of very little blue morocco shoes tied together by
their strings. These she took into her lap, and, shortly afterward, had
the trunk locked, and pushed back into its place. The shoes, having been
thoroughly examined through her great iron-bound spectacles, were thrust
under the mattress of her bed.

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

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

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

"Well, I spec Miss Annie's mighty glad to git him back agin," continued
the old man, after a moment's reflection. "He's right much of a nice
lookin' 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. But
I 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 down
h'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 me
jus' wot she think of him. She hate him from he heel up. I dunno wot
she'll do to him now she got him. Mighty great pity fur pore Miss Annie
dat he ever come h'yar."

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

"Don' you b'lieve dat," said Aunt Patsy. "When ole miss don' like a
pusson, 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 to
do no kunjerin' to Miss Annie's husban'. She gwine to hurt dat little
gal more'n she hurt anybody else."

Old Isham sat looking into the fire with a very worried and anxious
expression on his face. He was intensely loyal to his mistress, aware as
he was of her short-comings, or rather her long-goings. Although he felt
a good deal of fear that there might be some truth in Aunt Patsy's
words, he was very sure that if she took it upon herself to give warning
or reproof to old Mrs Keswick, a storm would ensue; and where the
lightning 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'ful
long 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 on
my min'."

"Aun' Patsy," said Uncle Isham, after gazing silently in the fire for a
minute or two, "dar was a brudder wot come up from 'Melia County to de
las' big preachin', an' he tole in his sarment a par'ble wot I b'lieve
will '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 de
gate ob heaben to git in. He didn't know nuffin' 'bout de ways ob de
place, 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 to
see if dar warn't no gate wot he might go in at. Den ole Sent Peter he
sings out: 'Look h'yar, uncle, whar you gwine? Dar ain't no cullud
gal'ry in dis 'stablishment. You's got to come in dis same gate wid de
udder folks.' So de cullud angel he come up to de gate, but he kin' a
hung back till de udders had got in. Jus' den 'long comes a white angel
on hossback, wot was in a dreffle hurry to git in to de gate. De cullud
angel, he mighty p'lite, an' he went up an' tuk de hoss, an' when de
white angel had got down an' gone in, he went roun' lookin' fur a tree
to hitch him to. But when he went back agin to de gate, Sent Peter had
jus' shet it, and was lockin' it up wid a big padlock. He jus' looks
ober de gate at de cullud angel an' he says: 'No 'mittance ahfter six
o'clock.' An' den he go in to his supper."

"An' wot dat cullud angel do den?" asked Eliza, who had been listening
breathlessly 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 to
clap to your heart, Aun' Patsy. Don' you be gwine roun' tryin' to help
udder people jus' as you is all ready to go inter de gate ob heaben. Ef
you try any ob dat dar foolishness, de fus' thing you know you'll find
dat 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 Aunt
Patsy.




CHAPTER XIII.


Lawrence Croft had no idea of leaving the neighborhood of Howlett's
until Keswick had made up his mind what he was going to do, and until he
had had a private talk with Mrs Null; and, as it was quite evident that
the family would be offended if a visitor to them should lodge at
Peckett's store, he accepted the invitation to spend the night at the
Keswick 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 _tГЄte-a-tГЄte_ with Mrs Null.
Keswick was with him nearly all the afternoon; and in the evening the
family sat together in the parlor, where the conversation was a general
one, occasionally very much brightened by some of the caustic remarks of
the old lady in regard to particular men and women, as well as society
at large. Of course he had many opportunities of judging, to the best of
his capacity, of certain phases of character appertaining to Mr Candy's
cashier; and, among other things, he came to the conclusion that
probably 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 he
could 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 next
morning he arose a good hour before breakfast time. He found the lower
part of the house quite deserted, and when he went out on the porch he
was glad to button up his coat, for the morning air was very cool. While
walking up and down with his hands in his pockets, and looking in at the
front door every time he passed it, in hopes that he might see Mrs Null
coming down the stairs, he was greeted with a cheery "good morning," by
a 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 I
find it pays. Nobody works as well, and I don't believe the plants and
stock grow as well, while we are asleep."

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

"And pretty sharp, too," said Mrs Keswick. "Come down here in the
sunshine, and you will find it pleasanter. Step back a little this way,
sir," she said, when Lawrence had joined her, "and give me your opinion
of that locust tree by the corner of the porch. I am thinking of having
it 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 would
be a pity to lose the shade it made.

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

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

"She is said to be a right smart young lady," said Mrs Keswick, "well
educated, and has travelled in Europe. I am told that she is not only a
regular town lady, but that she makes a first-rate house-keeper when she
is 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 been
much communication between the two families of late years, although they
used to be intimate enough. But my nephew and niece have been away a
great deal, and old people can't be expected to do much in the way of
visiting. But I have a notion," she said, after gazing a few moments in
a reflective way at the corner of the house, "that it would be well now
to be a little more sociable again. My niece has no company here of her
own sex, except me, and I think it would do her good to know a young
lady 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 locust
tree, 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 part
of the country I would be glad to have you ride over and stay a day or
two while Miss March is here. I will have a little party of young folks
in 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 a
week or two longer, and that he would be most happy to accept Mrs
Keswick's kind invitation.

They then moved toward the house, but, suddenly stopping, as if she had
just thought of something, Mrs Keswick remarked: "I shall be obliged to
you, 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 my
mind to it, and I suppose I should not have mentioned it to you if we
had not been talking about Midbranch. There is nothing I hate so much as
to have people hear I am going to give them an invitation, or that I am
going to do anything, in fact, before I have fully made up my mind about
it."

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

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

After breakfast there came to Lawrence the opportunity of a private
conference with Mrs Null. He was standing alone on the porch when she
came out of the door with her hat on and a basket in her hand, and said
she was going to see a very old colored woman who lived in the
neighborhood, who was considered a very interesting personage; and
perhaps he would like to go there with her. Nothing could suit Croft
better than this, and off they started.

As soon as they were outside the yard gate the lady remarked: "I have
been trying hard to give you a chance to talk to me when the others were
not 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 and
ferocious in regard to the matter, but I do really wish very much that
you 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 with
your business with Junius, I did not wish to detain you here any longer
than was necessary."

"Thank you," said Lawrence.

"You are welcome," she said. "And when I saw you standing on the porch
by yourself, the idea of being generous to old Aunt Patsy came into my
mind. 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 lady
like you came to be Mr Candy's cashier."

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

"He took me to New York; and there we lived very happily until about two
years ago, when my father died. He was a lawyer by profession, but at
that time held a salaried position in a railroad company, and when he
died, of course our income ceased. The money that was left did not last
very long, and then I had to decide what I was to do. It would have been
natural for me to go to my only relatives, Aunt Keswick and Junius. But
my father had been so opposed to my aunt having anything to do with me
that I could not bear to go to her. He had really been so much afraid
that she would try to win me away from him, or in some way gain
possession of me, that he would not even let her know our address, and
never answered the few letters from her which reached him, and which he
told me were nothing but demands that her sister's child should be given
back to her. Junius had written to me, how many times I do not know, but
two letters had come to me that were very good and affectionate, quite
different from my aunt's, but even these my father would not let me
answer; it would be all the same thing, he said, as if I opened
communication with my Aunt Keswick. Therefore, out of respect to my
father, and also in accordance with my own wishes, I gave up all idea of
coming down here, and went to work to support myself. I tried several
things, and, at last, through a friend of my father, who was a regular
customer of Mr Candy, I got the position of cashier in the Information
Shop. It was an awfully queer place, but the work was very easy, and I
soon got used to it. Then you came making inquiries for an address. At
first I did not know that the person you wanted was Junius Keswick and
my cousin, but after I began to look into the matter I found that it
must be he who you were after. Then I became very much troubled, for I
liked Junius, who was the only one of my blood whom I had any reason to
care for; and when one sees a person setting a detective--for it is all
the same thing--upon the track of another person, one is very apt to
think 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 him
until I had first seen him, and then, if I found you could do him any
harm, 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 Mr
Candy charged; and when I spoke of receiving money for my services when
the affair was finished I only did it that it might all be more business
like, and that you should not drop me and set somebody else looking
after Junius. That was the great thing I was afraid of, so I did all I
could to make you satisfied with me."

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

"My conscience was very much pleased with me," was the answer. "What I
did was a stratagem, and perfectly fair too. If I had found that it was
right for you to see Junius, I would have done everything I could to
help you communicate with him. But when I did at last see him, down you
swooped 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, "for
if it had not been for that I should never have allowed you to go about
the country looking up a gentleman in my behalf. But how did you get
over your repugnance to your aunt?"

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

"What did she do?" asked Croft.

"Never you mind," she answered, with a little laugh. "You can't expect
to 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 as
they were walking along the road, and her little black eyes sparkled
with peculiar animation behind her great spectacles. Her granddaughter
happened not to be at home, but Aunt Patsy got up, and with her apron
rubbed off the bottoms of two chairs, which she placed in convenient
positions for her expected visitors. When they came in they found her in
a very perturbed condition. She answered Mrs Null's questions with a
very few words and a great many grunts, and kept her eyes fixed nearly
all the time upon Mr Croft, endeavoring to find out, perhaps, if he had
yet been subjected to any kind of conjuring.

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

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

"Yaas, I wants her," said Aunt Patsy. "I 'spec' she at Aggy's house--dat
cabin 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 yet
exhibited. "Dat's your own mudder's good chile!" And then she turned
quickly into the room.

Croft had risen as if he were about to follow Mrs Null, or, at least, to
see where she had gone. But Aunt Patsy stopped him. "Jus' you stay h'yar
one 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 her
great spectacles directly upon him. "You look out, sah, fur ole miss,"
she said, in a voice, naturally shrill, but now heavily handicapped by
age 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 word
ob 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 you
knows, she kunjer you, an' shribble up de siners ob your legs, an' gib
you mis'ry in your back, wot you neber git rid of no moh'. Can't tell
you 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 of
little blue shoes, tied together by their strings. "Jes' you take dese
h'yar shoes," she said, "an' ef eber you think ole miss gwine ter kunjer
you, jes' you hol' up dem shoes right afore her face. Dar now, stuff 'em
in your pocket. Don' you tell Miss Annie wot I done say to you. 'Member
dat, sah. It ud kill her, shuh."

At this moment Mrs Null entered, just as the shoes had been slipped into
the 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 great
granddaughter. "And I think," she said to Mr Croft, "it is time for us
to go. Good-bye, Aunt Patsy. You can send back the basket by Eliza."

When the two left the cabin, Croft walked thoughtfully for a few
moments, wondering what in the world the old woman could have meant by
her strange words and gift to him. Concluding, however, that they could
have been nothing but the drivelings of weak-minded old age, he
dismissed 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 his
coming here. Didn't I tell you that my aunt was opposed to the
marriage?" "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 she
took pleasure in astonishing him, "that Aunt Keswick is going to try to
have 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 she
can never carry out such a ridiculous scheme as that."

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

"What nonsense!" cried Croft. "If you and Mr Null are satisfied, nobody
else has anything to do with it."

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

"Oh," said Croft, looking around at her very coldly and sternly, "I
begin to see. I suppose a separation would improve your prospects in
life. 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 no
right to speak to me in that way, and attribute such motives to me. No
matter whom I had married, I would never give him up for the sake of
money, 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 see
what else I could infer from your remarks."

"My remarks," said she, "were,--well, they have a different meaning from
what you supposed." She walked on in silence for a few moments, and
then, looking up to her companion, she said: "I have a great mind to
tell you something, if you will promise, at least for the present, not
to breathe it to a living soul."

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

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

"I instigated!"--exclaimed Mr Croft. And then he stopped short, both in
his 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 travel
about with me you would like very much to employ me in the search for Mr
Keswick, 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 smile
and 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 a
laugh. "You don't mean to say," he exclaimed, "that Mr Null is an
imaginary being?"

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

"You are a most extraordinary young person," said Lawrence; "almost as
extraordinary as your aunt. What in the world made you think of doing
such a thing? and why do you wish to keep up the delusion among your
relatives, even so far as to drive your aunt to the point of getting you
divorced from your airy husband?" And he laughed again. "I told you
how I came to think of it," she said, as they walked on again. "It was
very plain that if I wanted to travel about as your agent I must be
married, 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 the
delusion, as you call it, in my own family, I have found that to be
absolutely necessary, at least for the present. My aunt, even when I was
a little girl, determined to take my marriage into her own hands; and
since I have returned to her, this desire has come up again in the most
astonishing way. It is her principal subject of conversation with me.
Were it not for the protection which my dear Freddy Null gives me I
should be thrown bodily into the arms of the person whom my aunt has
selected, and he would be obliged to take me, whether he wanted to or
not, or be cast forth forever. So you see how important it is that my
aunt should think I am married; and I do hope you will not tell anybody
about Mr Null."

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

She did not answer for a few moments, and then she said: "I suppose you
must consider me a very deceptive sort of person, but you should
remember that these things were not done for my own good, and, as far as
I can see, they were the only things that could be done. Do you suppose
I 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 could
be 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 aunt
to quarrel with Junius and disinherit him, as she says she will, should
he decline to marry me. I expected to drop my married name when I came
here, but I had not been with my aunt fifteen minutes before I saw that
it 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 all
these things about my cousin, and I only did it because I did not wish
you to think that I was a sly, mean creature, deceiving others for my
own good."

"Well," said Croft, "although I can't say you are right in making your
relatives believe you are married when you are not, still I see you had
very fair reasons for what you did, and you certainly showed a great
deal of ingenuity and pluck in carrying out your remarkable schemes.
By-the-way," he continued, somewhat hesitatingly, "I am in your debt for
your 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 was
that 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 the
Information Shop?"

"No," she said. "When I started out on my lonely wedding tour I gave up
that, and if I should go back to New York, I do not think I should want
to 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 would
grieve my aunt very much if I were to go away from her now, and as long
as I have Mr Null to protect me from her matrimonial schemes, I am glad
to 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, and
somewhat plump young person walking beside him with the thin-faced girl
in black whom he had seen behind the cashier's desk.

"Now," said she, with a vivacious little laugh, "I have poured out my
whole soul before you, and, in return, I want you to gratify a curiosity
which is fairly eating me up. Why were you so anxious to find my Cousin
Junius? And how did you happen to come here the very day after he
arrived? And, more than that, how was it that you had seen him at
Midbranch so recently? You were talking about it last night. It couldn't
have been my letter from Howlett's that brought you down here?"

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

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




CHAPTER XIV.


When Lawrence and his companion reached the house, they found on the
porch Mrs Keswick and her nephew; and, after a little general
conversation, the latter remarked to Mr Croft that he had found it would
not be in his power to attend to that matter he had spoken of; to which
Croft 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 make
other arrangements. He then stated that he would be obliged to return to
the Green Sulphur Springs that day, and that, as it was a long ride, he
would like to start as soon as his horse could be brought to him. But
this procedure was condemned utterly by the old lady, who insisted that
Mr Croft should not leave until after dinner, which meal should be
served earlier than usual in order to give him plenty of time to get to
the Springs before dark, and as Lawrence had nothing to oppose to her
very urgent protest, he consented to stay. Before dinner was ready he
found out why the protest was made. The old lady took him aside and made
inquiries of him in regard to Mr Null. He had already informed her that
he was not acquainted with that gentleman, but she thought, as Mr Croft
seemed to be going about the country a good deal, he might possibly meet
with her niece's husband; and, if he should do so, she would be very
glad to have him become acquainted with him.

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

"Mr Null has not yet come to my house," said Mrs Keswick, "and it is
very natural that one should desire to know the husband of her only
niece 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," she
continued, "and, although I asked my niece about it, she answered in a
very evasive way, which makes me think his occupation is one she is not
proud of. I have reason to suppose, however, that he is an agent for
the 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 person
connected with my family should be engaged in a business like that, for
those fertilizers, as you ought to know, are all humbugs of the vilest
kind. The only time I bought any it took my whole wheat crop to pay for
it, and as for the clover I got afterward, a grasshopper could have
eaten the whole of it. I am afraid he didn't tell her his business
before he married her, and I'm glad she's ashamed of it. As far as I can
find out, it does not seem as if Mr Null has any intention of coming
here for some time; and, as I said before, I do very much want to know
something about him--that is from a disinterested outsider. One cannot
expect a recently married young woman to give a correct account of her
husband."

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

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

"But if I do meet with him," he continued, "I shall take great pleasure
in giving you my impressions by letter, or in person, of your
nephew-in-law." "Don't call him that!" exclaimed the old lady with
much asperity. "I don't acknowledge the title. But I won't say any more
about 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 that
he is exactly the husband you would wish your niece to have."

"Never!" she cried. "If he were an angel in broadcloth. But I mustn't
talk about these things. I mentioned Mr Null to you because you are the
only person of my acquaintance who, I suppose, is likely to meet with
him. In regard to that little company I spoke of to you, I have not
quite 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, and
shall certainly expect you to be one of us." "That would give me great
pleasure," said Lawrence, in a tone which indicated to the quick brain
of the old lady that he would like to make a condition, but was too
polite to do so.

"If Miss March should agree to come," she said, "it might be pleasant
for 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 her
or not, as suits your convenience."

"Thank you very much," said Lawrence, in a tone which betrayed no
reserves.

As he rode away that afternoon, Lawrence Croft, as his habit was on
such occasions, revolved in his mind what he had heard and said and done
during this little visit to the Keswick family. "Nothing could have
turned out better," he thought. "To be sure the young man could not or
would not be of any assistance to me, which is probably what I ought to
have expected, but the strong-tempered old lady, his aunt, promises to
be of tenfold more service than he could possibly be. As to that very
odd young lady, Mrs Keswick's niece, I imagine that she does not regard
me very favorably, for she was quite cool after I refused to let her
into the secret of my desire to find her cousin, but as I did not ask
for 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 since
I've been down here. Keswick begins it; then old Brandon takes up the
strain; 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--that
most useful Mr Null; after that, her aunt makes me understand how much
she hates Mr Null, and how she would like me to find out something
disreputable about him; and then--, by George! I forgot the old negro
woman in the cabin!" At this he put his hand in the side-pocket of his
coat, and drew out the pair of little blue shoes. "Why in the name of
common sense did the old hag give me these? And why should she suppose
that Mrs Keswick intended me a harm? The old lady never saw or heard of
me 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 what
she was talking about. I shall keep the shoes, however, and if ever the
venerable purple sun-bonnet runs afoul of me, I shall hold them up before
it 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 from
Mrs Keswick to spend a few days with her, and make the acquaintance of
her niece who had recently returned to the home of her childhood. The
letter, for it was much more than a note of invitation, was cordial, and
in parts pathetic. It dwelt upon the sundered pleasant relations of the
two families, and expressed the hope that Mr Brandon's visit to her
might be the beginning of a renewal of the old intimacy. Mrs Keswick
took occasion to incidentally mention that the house would be
particularly dull for her niece just now, as Junius was on the point of
starting for Washington, where he would be detained some weeks on
business; and she hoped, most earnestly, that Miss Roberta would accept
this invitation to make her acquaintance and that of her niece; and she
designated Thursday of the following week as the day on which she would
like her to come.

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

He said nothing of all this to his niece; but he most earnestly
counselled her to accept the invitation and make a visit to the two
ladies. Of course Roberta did not care to go, but as her uncle appeared
to take the matter so much to heart, she consented to gratify him, and
wrote an acceptance. She found, also, when she had thought more on the
matter, 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 important
influence on her life.




CHAPTER XV.


On the afternoon of the day on which Mrs Keswick's letter arrived at
Midbranch, 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 very
suddenly. "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 have
much use fur me, but Mahs' Robert, he said it were too far fur her to go
widout 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 hock
the frocks ob de bridesmaids. An dat's all fool talk about Miss Rob
gwine 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, coz
dat's de way de fus' fam'lies allus does afore dey hab dere weddin'. I's
pow'ful glad she's gwine dar, instid ob ole Miss Keswick comin' h'yar. I
don' wan' her kunjerin' me, an' she'd do dat as quick as winkin' ef de
batter bread's a leetle burned, or dar's too much salt in de soup. You's
got to keep youse'f mighty straight, you Peggy, when you gits whar ole
Miss Keswick is. Don' you come none ob your fool tricks, or she kunjer
you, an' one ob your legs curl up like a pig's tail, an' neber uncurl no
moh'. How you like dat?"

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

"Dar's ole Aun' Patsy," continued the speaker. "It's a mighty long time
sence I've seen Aun' Patsy. Dat was when I went ober dar wid Miss Rob's
mudder when de two fam'lys was fren's. I was her maid, an' went wid her
jes as Mahs' Robert wants you ter go 'long wid Miss Rob. He ain't gwine
to furgit how they did in de ole times when de ladies went visitin' in
dere kerridges fur to stay free, four days. Aun' Patsy were pow'ful ole
den, 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 she
gwine to die but 'twarnt no use. She can't do it. An' de las' time I
hear ob her, she alibe yit, jes' de same as eber. An' dar was Mahs' John
Keswick. She cunjer him coz he rode de gray colt to de Coht House when
she done tole him to let dat gray colt alone, coz 'twarnt hisen but
hern, an' he go shoot hese'f dead by de gate pos'. You's got to go fru
by 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 third
Chewsdays, which is Coht day, de same as when he took de gray colt, as
soon as it git dark he ghos' climb up to de top ob dat pos', an' set dar
all night."

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

It was on a pleasant autumn morning that Mr Brandon very carefully
ensconced his niece in the family carriage, with Peggy and a trusty
negro 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 it
is far better for you to go by yourself. My very presence would provoke
an antagonism in the old lady, while with you, personally, it is
impossible that any such feeling should exist. I hope your visit may do
away with all ill feeling between our families."

"I want you to understand, uncle," said Miss Roberta, "that I am making
this visit almost entirely to please you, and I shall do everything in
my power to make Mrs Keswick feel that you and I are perfectly well
disposed toward her; but you can't expect me to exhibit any great warmth
of friendship toward a person who once used such remarkable and violent
expressions in regard to me."

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

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

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

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