Mr Brandon was an easy-going man, but he had a backbone which could be greatly stiffened on occasion. He sat up very straight on his horse, and urged the animal to a better pace, so that he arrived first at the point where the roads met. Here he awaited Mr Croft, who soon rode up. The old 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 quite well.

"I have been from home for a little while," said Mr Brandon, "but I believe my niece enjoys her usual health. I have had a long ride this morning," he continued, "and feel a little tired. Would it inconvenience you, sir, if we should dismount and sit for a time on yonder log by the roadside? It would rest me, and I would like to have a little talk with you."

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

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

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

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

Not wishing to foolishly and dishonorably deny that such was his purpose in going to Midbranch; and feeling that it would be as unwise to decline answering the question as it would be unmanly to resort to subterfuge about it, Lawrence replied, that his object in visiting Miss March that day was to make matrimonial overtures to her.

"I think," said Mr Brandon, "that you will be obliged to me if I make you acquainted with the present condition of affairs between Miss March and 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 desire that they should marry. It would be a union, not only congenial in the highest degree to the parties concerned, but of the greatest advantage to our family and our family fortunes. There is but a single obstacle to this most desirable union, and that is the unwarrantable opposition of one person. But, I am happy to say that this opposition is on the point of being removed. I consider it to be but a matter of days when my niece and Mr Keswick, with the full approbation of the relatives on either side, will renew in the eyes of the world that engagement which I consider still exists in fact."

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

"My dear sir!" exclaimed Mr Brandon, "have you ever intimated to me or to any of my family, that your intentions in visiting Midbranch were other 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 mentioning this 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 visiting my house?"

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

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

Lawrence did not immediately reply to this crafty speech. His teeth were very firmly set, and he looked steadfastly before him. "I do not understand all this," he said, presently, "nor do I see that there is any 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 there is an end of the matter. If she accepts me, then it is quite proper that all your plans should fall to the ground. She is the principal in the affair, and it is due to her and due to me that she should make the decision in this case."

Mr Brandon had not quite so many teeth as his younger companion, but the very fair number which remained with him were set together quite as firmly as those of Lawrence had been. He remarked, speaking very distinctly but without any show of emotion: "I see, sir, that it is quite 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 as if it were based upon the presence of sickness or family affliction—that you will not visit my house at present."

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

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

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

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



CHAPTER XI.

In the little dining-room of the cottage at the Green Sulphur Springs sat that evening Lawrence Croft, a perturbed and angry, but a resolute man. He had been quite a long time coming to the conclusion to propose to Roberta March, and now that he had made up his mind to do so, even in spite of certain convictions, it naturally aroused his indignation to find himself suddenly stopped short by such an insignificant person as Mr Brandon, a gentleman to whom, in this affair, he had given no consideration whatever. The fact that the lady wished to see him added much to his annoyance and discomfiture. He had no idea what reason she had for desiring an interview with him, but, whatever she should say to him, he intended to follow by a declaration of his sentiments. He had not the slightest notion in the world of giving up the prosecution of his suit; but, having been requested not to come to Midbranch, what was he to do? He might write to Miss March, but that would not suit him. In a matter like this he would wish to adapt his words and his manner to the moods and disposition of the lady, and he could not do this in a letter. When he wooed a woman, he must see her and speak to her. To any clandestine approach, any whispered conversation beneath her window, he would give no thought. Having been asked by the master of the house not to 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 be proper for him to go to Midbranch, he had been reading in a bound volume of an old English magazine, which was one of the five books the cottage possessed, an account of a battle which had interested him very much. The commander of one army had massed his forces along and below the crest of a line of low hills, the extreme right of his line being occupied by a strong force of cavalry. The army opposed to him was much stronger than his own, and it was not long before the battle began to go very much against him. His positions on the left were carried by the combined charge of the larger portion of the enemy's forces, and, in spite of a vigorous resistance, his lines were forced back, down the hill, 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 the left to retreat, in as good order as possible, across a small river in their rear. While this movement was in progress, and the enemy was making the greatest efforts to prevent it, the commander put himself at the 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 camp of the enemy, he swiftly captured the general-in-chief, his staff, and the Minister of War, who had come down to see how things were going on. With these important prisoners he dashed away, leaving the acephalous enemy to capture his broken columns if he could.

This was the kind of thing Lawrence Croft would like to do. For an hour or more he puzzled his brains as to how he should make such a cavalry charge, and at last he came to a determination; he would ask Junius Keswick to assist him. There was something odd about this plan which pleased Croft. Keswick was his rival, with the powerful backing of Mr Brandon and a whole tribe of relatives, and it might naturally be supposed that he was the last man in the world of whom he would ask assistance. But, looking at it from his point of view, Lawrence thought that not only would he be taking no undue advantage of the other in asking him to help him in this matter, but that Keswick ought not and would not object to it. If Miss March really preferred Croft, Keswick should feel himself bound in honor to do everything he could to let the two settle the affair between themselves. This was drawing the point very fine, but Lawrence persuaded himself that if the case were reversed he would not marry a girl who had not chosen another man, simply because she had had no opportunity of doing so. He had a strong belief that Keswick was of his way of thinking, and before he went to bed he wrote his rival a note, asking him to call upon him the following day.

Early the next morning the note was carried over to Midbranch by a messenger, who returned, saying that Mr Keswick had gone away, and that his present address was Howlett's in the same county. This piece of information caused Lawrence Croft to open his eyes very wide. A few days before he had received a letter from Mrs Null, written at Howlett's, and now Keswick had gone there. He had been very much surprised when he found that the cashier had so successfully carried on the search for Keswick as to come into the very county in Virginia where he was; and he intended to write to her that he had no further occasion for her services; but he had not done so, and here were the pursuer and the pursued in the same town, or village, or whatever Howlett's was. He gave Mrs Null credit for being one of the best detectives he had ever heard of; for, apparently, she had not only been able to successfully track the man she was in search of, but to find out where he was going, and had reached the place in question before he did. But he also berated her soundly in his mind for her over-officiousness. He had not wished her to swoop down upon the man, but only to inform him of his whereabouts. The next thing that would probably happen would be the appearance of Mrs Null at the Green Sulphur Springs, holding Keswick by the collar. He deeply regretted that he had ever intrusted this young woman with the investigation, not because he had since met Keswick himself, but for the reason that she was entirely too energetic and imprudent. If Keswick should find out from her that she had been in search of him, and why, it might bring about a very unpleasant state of affairs.

Croft saw now, quite plainly, what he must do. He must go to Howlett's as 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 the young woman and her husband—for she had informed him that she intended to combine this business with a wedding tour—and send them off immediately. He could then have his conference with Keswick there as well as at the Springs. If any mischief had already been done, he did not know what course he might have to pursue, but it was highly necessary for him to be on the spot as soon as possible. He greatly disliked to leave the neighborhood of Roberta March, but his absence would only be temporary.

After an early dinner, he mounted the horse which he had hired from his host of the Springs, and, with a valise strapped behind him, set out for Howlett's. He had made careful inquiries in regard to the road, and after a ride somewhat tiresome to a man not used to such protracted horseback exercise, arrived at his destination about sundown. When he reached the scattered houses which formed, as he supposed, the outskirts of the village, for such he had been told it was, he rode on, but soon found that he had left Howlett's behind him, and that those supposed outskirts were the place itself. Hewlett's was nothing, in fact, but a collection of eight or ten houses quite widely separated from each other, and the only one of them which exhibited any public character whatever, was the store, a large frame building standing a little back from the road. Turning his horse, Lawrence rode up to the store and inquired if there was any house in the neighborhood where he could get lodging for the night.

The storekeeper, who came out to him, was a very little man whose appearance recalled to Croft the fact that he had noticed, in this part of the State, a great many men who were extremely tall, and a great many who were extremely small, which peculiarity, he thought, might assist a physiologist in discovering the different effects of hot bread upon different organizations. He was quite as cordial, however, as the biggest, burliest, and jolliest host who ever welcomed a guest to his inn, as he informed Mr Croft that there was no house in the village which made a business of entertaining strangers, but if he chose to stop with him he would keep him and his horse for the night, and do what he could to make him comfortable.

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

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

"No," replied Croft, "I am not going any farther than this place. Do you know 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 here yesterday, and he stopped at the store to see if we had any of that Lynchburg tobacco he used to smoke when he lived here. He's gone on to his 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 afraid to 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 yet seen 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, comfortable bed, 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 groceries of various kinds, rolls of cotton cloth and other dry goods, and, what attracted his attention more than anything else, a vast number of bright tin cans, bearing on their sides brilliant pictures of tomatoes, peaches, green corn, and other preservable eatables. These were evidently the reserved stores of the establishment, and they were so different from the bedroom decorations to which he was accustomed, that it quite pleased Lawrence to think that with all his experience in life he was now lodged in a manner entirely novel to him. As he lay awake looking at the moonlight glittering on the sides of the multitude of cans, the thought came into his mind that this had probably been the room of the Nulls when they were here.

"As this is the only house in the place where travellers are entertained," 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 gone away. I am very glad of it, especially if they left before Keswick arrived, for their departure probably prevented an awkward situation. But I shall ask the storekeeper no questions about these people. There is no better way of giving inquisitive folk the entree to your affairs than by asking questions. Of course there was no reason why they should stay here after they had successfully traced Keswick to this part of the country; and every reason, if they wanted to enjoy themselves, why they should go away. But I can't help being sorry that I did not meet the young woman, and have an opportunity of paying her for her trouble, and giving 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 I should like to feel certain that she understands that her business with me 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, and when he reached the second, or inner gate, he saw, on the other side of it, an elderly female, wearing a purple sun-bonnet and carrying a purple umbrella. There was something very eccentric about the garb of this elderly personage, and many an inexperienced city man would have taken her 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, which indicated to Lawrence that she was one much more accustomed to give orders than to take them. He raised his hat very politely, and asked if Mr Keswick was to be found there.

If the commander of the army, about whom Mr Croft had recently been reading, had beheld in the earlier stages of the battle a strong, friendly force advancing to his aid, he would not have been more delighted than Lawrence would have been had he known what a powerful ally 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 stepped aside to let him pass.

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

"I inquired at Howlett's, madam."

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

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

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

Equally astonished were the two people on the porch, who now arose to their feet. Junius Keswick naturally wondered very much why Mr Croft should come to see him here; and as for the young lady, she was almost as much terrified as surprised. Had this man come down from New York to swoop upon her cousin? Had it been possible that she could have given him any idea of the whereabouts of Junius? In her last note to him she had 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 keep her cousin out of danger, if, indeed, any danger threatened. But here the pursuer had found Junius in less than a day after she had first met him herself. But when she saw Junius advance and shake hands in a very friendly way with Mr Croft, her terror began to decrease, although her surprise continued at the same high-water mark, and Keswick found himself in a flood of the same emotion when Croft very politely saluted his cousin by name, which salutation was returned in a manner which indicated 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 how could he know what she had been saying about him.

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

"I have had the pleasure of meeting Mrs Null in New York," said Lawrence, to whom the word cousin gave what might be called a more important surprise than anything with which this three-sided interview had 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 with problematic situations, unexpected developments, and the like; but this was too much of a conundrum for him. That the man, whose address he had employed this girl to find out, should prove to be her cousin, and that she should start on her bridal trip without her husband, were points on which his reason had no power to work. One thing, however, he quickly determined upon. He would have an interview with Madam Cashier, and have her explain these mysteries. She was, virtually, his agent, and had no right to conceal from him what she had been doing, and why she had done it.

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

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

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



CHAPTER XII.

Old Mrs Keswick would willingly have followed the strange gentleman to the house in order to know the object of his visit, but as he had come to see Junius she refrained, for she knew her nephew would not like any appearance of curiosity on her part. Her reception of Junius had been very different indeed from that she had previously accorded him when she declined to be found under the same roof with him. Now he was here under very different auspices, and for him the very plumpest poultry was slain, and everything was done to make him comfortable and willing to stay and become acquainted with his cousin, Mrs Null. A match between these two young people was the present object of the old lady's existence, and she set about making it with as much determination and confidence as if there had been no such person as Mr Null. Of this individual she had the most contemptible opinion. She had never asked many questions about him, because, in her intercourse with her niece, she wished, as far as possible, to ignore him. Having mentally pictured him in various mean conditions of life, she had finally settled it in her mind that he was an agent for some patent fertilizer; a man of this kind being a very obnoxious person to her. This avocation, however, constituted in the old lady's mind no excusable reason for his protracted absence; and if ever a wife was deserted, she believed that her niece Annie was such a wife.

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

When she had first perceived the approach of Mr Croft, a fear had seized her that this might be the recreant husband, but the gentlemanly appearance of the stranger soon dispelled this idea from her prejudiced mind. Apart from the fact that she had no business at the house with her nephew's visitor, she had positive business in the garden with old Uncle Isham, and there she repaired. There was some work to be done in regard to a flower pit, in which some of her choicest plants were to be domiciled during the winter, and this she wished personally to oversee. Although the autumn was well advanced, the day was somewhat warm; and as the pair, whom Mr Croft had seen on the porch, had been glad to shelter themselves in the shade of the honeysuckle vines, so Mrs Keswick seated herself on a little bench behind a large arbor, still covered by heavy vines, which stood on the boundary line between the garden and the front yard, and opened on the latter. This bench, which was always shady in the morning, she had had placed there that she might comfortably direct the 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 which had brought him to see Junius Keswick. Several windows of the house opened on the porch, and he did not wish what he had to say to be heard by any one except the person he was addressing. "I desire to talk to you on some private matters," he said. "Could we not walk a little away from the house?"

"Certainly," said Junius, rising. "We will step over to that arbor by the garden. We shall be quite comfortable and secluded there. This is the 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 this diversion, but I managed to do a good deal of puffing before I was found out."

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

"Oh, yes," said Keswick, "my parents died when I was quite a little fellow, 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 about her bearing and general appearance which greatly interested me."

"She is a most estimable lady," returned Junius. And not wishing further to discuss his relative, he added: "And now, what is it, sir, that I can 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 as possible," continued Croft. "In consequence of your visit to me at the the Springs, I set out, the day before yesterday, to make another attempt to call on Miss March, the first one having been frustrated, as you may remember, by the information we received at the gate in regard to Miss March's indisposition, which, as I have heard nothing more of it, I hope was of no importance."

"Of none whatever," said Junius.

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

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

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

"He made no objection to me; he simply stated that he did not desire me to 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 one to be franker with me than he was. He went on to inform me that a match between the lady and yourself was greatly desired by the whole family connection, 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 your prospects, still, were it known that there was another aspirant in the field, a very undesirable state of things might ensue. What this state of affairs was he did not state, but I presume it had something to do with 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, I don't go. But, nevertheless, I have fully made up my mind to propose to Miss March as soon as I can get an opportunity. I have nothing to do with family arrangements or family opposition. You have told me that you 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, Mr Keswick, to see if there is any way in which you can assist me in obtaining an interview with Miss March."

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

"Not at all," replied the other. "If it had not been for you I should now 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 was simply because she had expressed a strong desire to see you."

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

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

"That may be," replied Croft, speaking a little warmly. "None of us exactly know what she thinks or wishes. But I want to find out what she thinks about me by distinctly asking her. And I should suppose you would consider 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 not necessary to discuss at present. If I were to assist you to an interview with 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 an interview, I would not do anything that would offend or annoy Mr Brandon."

"I don't ask that of you," said Croft, "but couldn't you use your influence with him to give me a fair chance with the lady? That is all I ask, and, whether she accepts me or rejects me, I am sure everybody ought 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 a practical way. I do not think, however, that any influence I can exert on Mr Brandon would induce him to allow you to address his niece if he is opposed to it, and I am sure he would have a very strange opinion of me if I attempted such a thing. At present I do not see that I can help you at all, but I will think over the matter, and we will talk of it again."

"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 tete-a-tete 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.

"We are very glad to see you, Miss March," she said. "My aunt is not here just now, but will be back directly."

"This is Mrs Null, isn't it?" said Roberta, and as the other smiled and answered with a slight flush that it was, Roberta stooped just the little that was necessary, and kissed her. Mrs Keswick's niece had not expected so warm a greeting from this lady, to whom she was almost a stranger, and instantly she said to herself: "In that kiss Freddy dies to you." For some days she had been turning over and over in her mind the question whether or not she should tell Roberta March that she was not Mrs Null. She greatly disliked keeping up the deception where it was not necessary, and with Roberta, if she would keep the secret, there was no need of this aerial matrimony. Besides her natural desire to confide in a person of her own sex and age, she did not wish Mr Croft to be the only one who shared her secret; and so she had determined that her decision would depend on what sort of girl Roberta proved to be. "If I like 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 and kissed her, Freddy Null departed this life so far as those two were concerned.

Mrs Keswick had, apparently, made a very great miscalculation in regard to 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 still the old lady did not come into the house. Her niece had grown very anxious about this absence, and had begun to fear that her aunt had treated Miss March as she had treated her on her arrival, and had gone away to stay. But Plez, whom she had sent to tell his mistress that her visitor was in the house, returned with the information that "ole miss" was in one of the lower fields directing some men who were digging a ditch, and that she would return to the house in a very short time. Thus assured that no permanent absence was intended, she went into the parlor to entertain Miss March, and to explain, as well as she could, the state of affairs; when, as she entered the door, she saw that lady suddenly arise and look steadfastly out of the window.