Widow Guthrie. (iUTHTUE A NOVEL BY RICHARD MALCOLM JOHNSTON ILLUSTRATED BY E. W. KEMBLE NEW YOKE D. APPLETON AND COMPANY - 1890 COPYRIGHT, 1890, BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. "PS VT G3 TO THOSE SURVIVORS AMONG THE ASSOCIATES OF MY YOUTH TO WHOM, AS TO ME, THE OLD GEORGIA SEEMS TO HAVE BEEN MORE HAPPY THAN THE NEW, THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAOB I. CLARKE 7 II. THOMAS TOLLY 12 III. THE WENDELLS GIVE A PARTY 16 IV. WIDOW GUTHRIE 23 V. PETERSON BRADDY 36 VI. Miss JEWELL AT DUNCAN GUTHRIE'S . . . .49 VII. CHRISTOPHER BOND 59 VIII. A PICNIC . 67 IX. A NEW-COMER ON LITTLE RIVER 75 X. ALICE VISITS THE STAPLETONS 84 XL MR. BRADUY'S EXPOSTULATIONS 93 XII. MOTHER AND SON 105 XIII. ALICE INTERPOSES FOR THE STAPLETONS .... 117 XIV. AT THE MACFARLANES 121 XV. MRS. GUTHRIE GOES TO LITTLE RIVER .... 130 XVI. MRS. GUTHRIE WITH HER DEAD 136 XVII. MR. BOND is RETAINED 146 XVIII. INQUIRIES ABOUT ALAN GUTHRIE'S WILL . . . 161 XIX. GUTHRIE CONFERS WITH HIS UNCLE 174 XX. THE EXECUTRIX'S DEFENSE 179 XXI. THE NEED OF COUNSEL 193 XXII. ALICE JOURNEYS TO BROAD RIVER . . 204 iv CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE XXIII. MRS. BUCK 215 XXIV. MR. LUDWELL INTERPOSES . 228 XXV. SEABORN TORRANCE 233 XXVI. MR. TORRANCE GOES TO CLARKE 241 XXVII. MR. TORRANCE BECOMES LEADING COUNSEL . . . 249 XXVIII. BOND UNDERTAKES ANOTHER CASE .... 259 XXIX. THE CORRESPONDENCE OF BOND AND GUTHRIE . . 2C7 XXX. SISTER'S FERRY 274 XXXI. THE RETURN OF GUTHRIE 286 XXXII. ANOTHER HOSTILE MEETING 292 XXXIII. REGRETS: A LATE REVIVAL OF AFFECTION . . . .296 XXXIV. DISMISSAL OF THE SUIT 301 XXXV. ALICE RETURNS TO BROAD RIVER 804 ILLUSTRATIONS. FACING PAGE Widoft Guthrie , Frontispiece " I got a little business with you, Mr. Guthrie " . . .47 In the afternoon Marcus walked about the premises . . 94 Alice 121 Lawyer Torrance and Mrs. Junkin ...... 250 " Stop I " cried Dr. Anton, " Mr. Bond has been wounded " . 277 WIDOW GUTHRIE. CHAPTER I. CLAKKE. AMONG those Virginians who, some before, others after the War of Independence, settled upon the fertile lands bordering on Broad River, in the State of Georgia, were the Guthries, Macfarlanes, and Ludwells. "With considerable properties at their coming, they had availed themselves of abundant opportunities, and become what was then regarded wealthy. Dennis Macfarlane, when about thirty-five, married Louisa Pollard, whose people had come into the settlement later. Alan Guthrie, con siderably his senior, five or six years after, being a child less widower of fifty, took to wife Hester Pollard, who was ten years older than her sister. Some time prior to the incidents hereinafter narrated, the brothers-in- law, while holding and continuing to work their planta tions, removed a day's journey south to Clarke, a village of about five hundred inhabitants, situated on an ele vated plain sixty miles west of Augusta. Mr. Macfar lane built a large handsome two-story frame dwelling in a spacious grove of red oak and hickory at the west end ; and Mr. Guthrie did the like at the east, his wide piazza contrasting well with the deep portico and lofty 8 WIDOW GUTHRIE. Doric pillars of Mr. Macfarlane's. Of the three Mac- farlane children, only Charlotte, lately come to woman hood, remained with her parents, her older brothers, James and Malcolm, both married, dwelling upon their plantations, which had been assigned to them by their father off the large tract owned by himself. Ten years back Alan Guthrie deceased, leaving his widow and his two minor children, Caroline and Duncan. Caro line was now wife to John Stapleton, a planter of mod erate means, living near Little River, ten miles below the village. Her brother, somewhat more than a year back, had married Alice Ludwell, who, with Charlotte Macfarlane, had but lately returned from Mrs. Willard's school at Troy, New York. These were living in a red brick house with white piazza about two hundred yards from the street extending north, at half a mile's distance from the court house square. A church building, commodious and reasonably taste ful, had been erected by each of the religious denomina tions, Baptist, Methodist, and Presbyterian, and, chiefly through the enterprise of Mr. Macfarlane and Mr. Guthrie, a large sightly academy for girls. This insti tution, after a varied experience, had lately risen into much reputation under the management of Mr. "Wen dell, a Boston man large, erect, of light complexion, thoroughly educated in books, manners, and discipline and now it had near a hundred and twenty pupils, more than half of whom were boarders. The head master dwelt in a roomy, irregular mansion opposite that of Mrs. Alan Guthrie. Boarding with his family, besides a dozen girls, was Miss Sarah Jewell, his cousin, who had lately come to be, with Anna Wendell, his OIAI CLARK&C daughter a rather petite brunette an assistant in the school, particularly in music, drawing, and painting. Entirely faithful to her school engagements, for which she was known to be more than competent, she was much more gay than Anna Wendell, and more fond of being in society, with the best of which she soon became familiar. Until her coming Charlotte Macfarlane had been regarded as perhaps the best musician and the beauty of the village, although if Alice Guthrie had not been a married woman judgment on neither of these accomplishments might have been unanimous. Yet Charlotte, of similar make to the New Englander, blonde like her, though less tall, from the beginning seemed willing to accord to her all that was due. Duncan Guthrie was a graduate of Yale. A lawyer, he gave promise of making a good professional career if he should rid himself of some drawbacks which were attributed to the well-known fact of being his mother's favorite, expectant of a large fortune from her and an other from his father-in-law. About five feet ten, fair, excellently rounded in shape, always tasteful in dress, fascinating in speech, he had won Alice Ludwell more easily perhaps because the seriousness in her being had need to be joined with what it felt to be wanting. Of medium height, not a blonde, yet not quite a brunette, her smooth white face that lit up sometimes, not very often, with redness, harmonized with her brown hair and browner eyes. Her voice was sweet, and when she smiled, whether while talking or listening, people re garded her as beautiful as she was lovely. Sixty years ago the controlling tone of society in Clarke and three or four neighboring county seats was 10 WIDOW GUTHRIE. high. Not avowedly or conventionally aristocratic, it could not fail to be so to a degree natural and fit from the easy superiority of a few families of wealth and culture whose forbears in the old State were known to have been among the best. It had not to be aggressive or supercilious in order to support natural and neces sary leadership. It was somewhat more exclusive in the villages than in rural districts as will be seen farther on, yet even here its ascendency was as well marked. Mr. Macfarlane, now sixty-five, would not have owned that he regarded himself better than any other honest born, honorable man ; yet many a one of this sort, after calling upon him at his residence about a matter of business, feeling for the time being sufficiently at his ease, when the business was over, chose to leave rather than remain, with a consciousness that his com pany could add little to that gentleman's enjoyment. Yet that very man looked up to him with affection as well as respect, and would elect him over any of his own likes to offices of public trust. Mrs. Macfarlane once small, dainty of shape, had taken on a fleshiness not uncomely. She had a gentle disposition that always had yielded cheerful assent to her husband's rule, yet kept her individuality and the loyal love and admira tion that she had won from him. Between her and her sister, intercourse, never very affectionate, had been less so since her marriage, still less since the latter's widowhood. Mrs. Guthrie, much taller and stouter, was of imperious temper, and had always seemed to regard her junior as much below herself in other re spects as she was in physical structure. They visited each other at intervals decent enough considering that CLARKE. 11 the elder seldom went abroad, and, if for no other rea son than that Mrs. Macfarlane could not have been drawn into disputes, they never had them. Indeed, Mrs. Guthrie during her widowhood had grown to doubt if in business matters Mr. Macfarlane, despite his reputation in that line, was fully her equal, and this thought had added to her reconciliation to an old disap pointment. The estate left by her husband, at his death about equal to that of Mr. Macfarlane, through the management of herself as executrix, had grown to be at least twenty per cent larger than his, a fact of which she was not sure that he was not rather ashamed. In her the feeling of class was more pronounced than in any other in that whole region, not even excepting her son Duncan. Proud of the ancient connection of her family and its set with the English Church, she despised the sects which were overrunning that region to the bane, as she believed, of honest religion and good soci ety. She attended with some regularity public relig ious services, mainly in the Presbyterian Church, but her demeanor even then, cold and rigid, indicated that she was there because of no opportunity of attending a more decent worship elsewhere. Untiring in energy, exacting of service from subordinates, a lender of mon eys at the highest interest possible and a shaver of notes at the lowest, eager to restlessness for the accumulation of property, yet she kept the most costly establishment in town, her servants were most devoted to her, and although she never went to a party of pleasure, she occasionally gave one as if to let people see that she could get up such a thing and conduct it better than my other woman of their acquaintance. 12 WIDOW GUTHRIE. Between such a woman and her daughter-in-law relations could not be very closely affectionate, although the former was well pleased at her son's marriage. As if in foresight of this, she provided a residence for them to occupy and everything needed for their living in comfortable, even luxurious style, and she hoped, even to anxiety, that the bride would never subtract from the affection of Duncan for herself, a possession prized above all others. Of her relations toward her daughter I will tell later. CHAPTER II. THOMAS TOLLY. AMONG other native families of proximate if not quite equal social rank with the two aforementioned were the Jamisons, whose home was picturesquely situated between the court house square and the Macfarlanes. Arthur Jamison, never an eloquent advocate, but always a reliable counselor, when at seventy would have liked to retire on the sufficient fortune gathered in a long professional career, and now, three years later, he re gretted that he had not done so. One day he said to Alfred, his son and partner, for whose sake he had been lingering this while in what he had hoped would be, or at least appear, a merely nominal connection : " Alfred, I'm going to do at Christmas what I see now that I ought to have done when you came to the THOMAS TOLLY. 13 bar. I made the same mistake as many old lawyers who think to bring on their sons faster by hanging on to their offices after it has got to be time for them to rutire. I find that I've been doing you more harm tlian good, to say nothing of failing of the rest to which 1 think that an old man who has worked as hard as I have is entitled. Not only our clients depend upon me, but you also. That must stop at the end of this year, if you are ever to be a lawyer you've got to lean only on yourself." The young man did not complain. There was too much of acquired prosperity in the family for that. Amiable, gentlemanlike in all his ways, he did not neglect business, and went along as if satisfied with what progress he was making. Much faster was the rise of Thomas Tolly, son of a plain farmer on Little River. After graduating at the State College and studying law in the olfice of the Jamisons, he had rented one in the court house, and, although only two years at the bar, had made several good hits by his management of cases which, not very important as to the amount of money in litigation, re quired talent, learning, and skill to conduct to successful issues. He was not quick to part from country man ners and especially country speech, for the latter of which many men of highest eminence in the rural region used to have much fondness. Rather tall, bushy haired, stalwart, not unhandsome, he moved with satis factory ease in the best company to which his ac knowledged abilities gave him access, and he did not seem to feel it worth while to be in a hurry to obtain the position, professional or social, to which his hopes 14 WIDOW GUTHRIE. pointed. The one there least cordial toward him was Guthrie. lie seemed to like not that an awkward youth fresh from the country, about whose ancestors not even any of the family had anything special to say, the property of whose father, although respectable, in com parison with the Guthrie and other like estates was scant, who had never been further from home than Athens, the seat of the State College, fifty miles dis tant, should demean as if he felt himself to be any body's equal. " I think I have about sized Tolly," he said one day at his home to Charlotte Macfarlane. " He has a right good education and some talent, which, if he wasn't so well satisfied already, might lead to to a reasonable height. But the luck he has had in a few petty cases, and the praise he has got from Judge Ansley, who com pliments every young lawyer at the start, have turned his head and even kept him from trying to get rid of his country manners. He believes his standing at the bar and in society to be good enough already. He won a case from me last court because the judge ruled plainly against the law; and it put him into such glee that but for the presence of the Court I should have said to him that he was making much of a very small matter." " I think he is handsome and right interesting, don't you, Alice ? " said Charlotte. " Yes, rather good-looking. I've not seen very much of him ; but he impressed me as an uncommonly intelli gent, simple-minded, earnest, upright young man. I think he's handsomer than when I first knew him." " Oh, yes," said Guthrie, " let a young man have moderately good looks, be tolerably smart, known to be THOMAS TOLLY. 15 1 ambitious, and single witlial these are enough to win the admiration of young women, married or unmarried/' " And that speech," retorted Charlotte, " was made by a married man married to the finest woman in town who, more than any unmarried man that I have heard, praises the beauty arid vivacity of Miss Jewell." Guthrie glanced at his wife, whose downward look showed that these words were not pleasing to her ear. The girl hastened to qualify them by saying : " I was exaggerating there, Cousin Duncan ; but, in deed, I can't see how anybody, man or woman, can help admiring Miss Jewell. I regard her as rather the most variously gifted woman that I ever knew." He waited for his wife to reply. "Miss Jewell is beautiful," said the latter, "very, and an excellent pianist. I should admire her more but for what seemed to me the few times I have met her rather too much consciousness of her gifts ; for in stance, at Mrs. Jamison's that evening last week, I thought she was somewhat patronizing toward Anna "Wendell, who, quite accomplished herself, is very mod est. Then, candidly, though I would not think of say ing such a thing to anybody except you and Duncan and perhaps Sister Caroline, she acts, at least to my view, as if she had a greater preference for men's over women's society than to me seems quite becoming." " O Alice ! " said Charlotte, " I don't think you do her full justice. She and Anna love each other dearly, and Anna bears as she ought, to my notion, her cousin's efforts to make her put herself at more ease in com pany. Miss Jewell does like men's society, w r hen they are bright like Cousin Duncan, and yes I'll say like 16 WIDOW GUTHRIE. Mr. Tolly, and I have frequently heard her express much admiration for both. Her freedom from con straint is simply the outcome of usage in good city so ciety, which allows a woman, of course within just limits, to feel as much at ease, and have as much enjoyment in men's company as in that of women. / like the society of nice men myself ; that I do." " I am glad you hold such a good opinion of her," said Alice. " I am sure I would not do her wanton in justice. Indeed, it troubles me to feel that I may have done it, even unintentionally." At this period she was not quite well. The death of a child on the day of its birth three months before was a sore distress. With no suspiciousness in her na ture, yet about this young woman, whom she had met less often than her husband, she felt an indefinite ap prehension, which it would have been better if he had respected. CHAPTER III. THE WENDELLS GIVE A PARTY. IN acknowledgment of the attentions paid to their cousin, the Wendells gave a party about two months after her arrival. Though not expensive, everything was in good taste. Miss Jewell showed to much ad vantage. Her dressing and the arrangement of her hair were in perfect taste, giving the best possible ex pression to her fine head and almost matchless figure. THE WENDELLS GIVE A PAKTY. ]7 9 Guthrie's admiration, notwithstanding the presence of his wife, was apparently without bounds. As Often as he could he put himself between her and Tolly or Alfred Jamison, or other beaus, and did his best to attract her special attention throughout the evening, except when she was in conversation with his wife. At such times upon his face appeared some shadow of impatience. Alice, as I shall speak of her hereafter to distinguish from her mother-in-law, was exquisitely dressed in a gray silk gown modestly decked with laces and flow ers. Though not quite well, and sitting in a corner of the parlor during most of the evening, she accepted with accustomed politeness attentions from all, men and women, who came where she was, and she seemed as if she was enjoying everything more than she had ex pected. Miss Jewell several times lingered while pass ing to one and another of the guests, and seemed as if she would like to be specially considerate of her. Alice received her as the rest of the company, but what she had to say in praise of the entertainment she said to the members of the family. Occasionally a pained expression, but only of momentary duration, was upon her face while looking at her husband ; but she in stantly addressed some person near her a remark, play ful as conscientious politeness could make. Perhaps only Charlotte guessed at the reason for this. If Miss Jewell did, she behaved as though she did not. Yet it was from regard for others rather than for herself that Alice tried thus to conceal what she felt when from her husband's looks toward Miss Jewell, with an occasional alteration of them toward her own pale face, she was obliged to suspect him of making inwardly a compari- 2 18 WIDOW GUTHRIE. son between herself and the splendid woman so full of health, beauty, and vivacity. Yet accustomed to society as was Miss Jewell, who must have learned to observe some of the things that do not always come up to the surface in such a company, she showed once that she felt it to be worth while to make a special effort to re assure this young wife if herself was felt to be cause of any degree of anxiety to her. The occasion was this : Charlotte had played several waltzes. As, in answer to universal solicitation, she began with another, Miss Jewell, her hands upon the piano moving their lingers in harmony, suddenly ex claimed : " O Charlotte, that is exquisite ! I wish I could waltz ! " Instantly Guthrie, who was standing by, ex tending both hands, proposed to lead her forth. Her impulse was to accept, but, looking first at Alice, then at Mr. Wendell, who at that moment was moving toward her, smiling slightly and shaking his head, she seized Anna, and with her made a few rounds. " Ah, Miss Jewell," said Guthrie, when it was over, " you should have had a man to help you show off as it deserved that perfection of movement." " Oh, thank you for the compliment, Mr. Guthrie. Yes, one needs strong arms in waltzing ; so I played the man to Anna. She waltzes well, doesn't she ? " " Yes, but not" At that moment she looked at Alice, whose eyes were upon Guthrie. She went to her and addressed some cordially hospitable words. Alice looked up, gave a brief, simple answer, as if in parenthesis, then turned her face away. Miss Jewell slightly reddened, THE WENDELLS GIVE A PARTY. 19 turned, went back to the piano, and did the best play ing of the evening. " How did you like that last piece, Mr. Guthrie ? " "Nothing could have been finer. Indeed, I have never been so entertained as to night." " Mrs. Guthrie does not seem quite well," she said lowly, as her fingers ran up and down upon the keys. " Oh, she's well enough. Mrs. Guthrie, you may know But she rose instantly, and went moving among the rest. Tolly took Charlotte home. " A very pleasant party," he said, when they had passed through the gate. "Yes, the Wendells are nice people, arid know thoroughly how to entertain, even without the help of Miss Jewell. Wasn't she fine, though ? Taking her all in all, she's the finest woman I ever knew." " I've never seen her show to quite such advantage as 'this evening. But I could not say with you that she's the very finest woman /have known. I do admire her very much, however, in every particular." " She likes you, Mr. Tolly." " I am delighted to hear that from such authority ! Yet I have been trusting that she was one of my friends, feeling that she could not but know what high esteem I have for herself. The waltzing of hers to me seemed perfect, although I've had little acquaintance with that sport, or even with ordinary dancing. Miss Wendell's part was done well also, I thought, in spite, perhaps, of what I suspected her consciousness of inferiority to her magnificent cousin." " Yes, it was perfectly done. Anna is a girl of much 20 WIDOW GUTHRIE. gracefulness when she feels entirely at ease ; but every woman must suffer somewhat in comparison with that exquisite creature. It was amusing to me to see how delighted Cousin Duncan was. He whispered to me that he was dying to waltz with her ; but I'm rather glad that she wouldn't let him under the circumstances. Cousin Duncan, I think, for a married man, is rather more fond of young women's society than seems quite proper. I've told him so, and so has father. But he says that he doesn't see why because a man is married he mayn't have fun like others. He has about the best wife in this whole world, and he knows it, but I wish he'd be a little more regardful of her. He is as good to her as he can be ; but he's not quite as considerate as he ought to be at least in some companies." " Mrs. Guthrie looked to-night as if she were not quite well. Indeed, she told me she was not ; but that she had come because she felt that she ought to do what she could to 'show her appreciation of the Wendells' civility." " Yes ; still she would not have come but for the in sistence of Cousin Duncan. She's not ill; only a little out of sorts, and will soon be all right again. I'm not sure but that he'd have gone there alone, except that he knew that such a thing would not have looked well." " To me that is strange. It seems to me that if I were a married man I should feel like giving up society except to the degree that my wife might claim my escort." " That would be gallant, Mr. Tolly, even knightly ! " " No, it wouldn't seem any tiling of the kind to THE WENDELLS GIVE A PARTY. 21 me. It would be only that I regarded her society suf ficient." " But women, married and single, you know, must have, or they feel that they must have, other society than domestic sometimes, if for no other reason, to gos sip and listen to gossiping." " For other reasons quite above that. What I mean is that I should wish for my wife to regulate such vis itations by her own feelings and her sense of the duties which she and I owed to society." " But suppose you should find that she carried that liberty to excess ? " " I could not suppose such a case. I should trust that in such matters her judgment was better than mine, and I am very sure that I should feel much embarrassed in any company of gentlemen or ladies to which my wife would decline to go, or would go reluctantly and only for my sake." " Then, if you had been in Cousin Duncan's place, you would not have gone to the Wendells'." " I certainly would not." " Not even to meet Miss Jewell ? " " Not even to meet anybody. Though, of course," he added, as if he supposed that he ought, " I do not judge Mr. Guthrie, who doubtless feels that he entirely understands his own case." " You've seen Alice at her home, haven't you, Mr. Tolly ? " " No, Miss Charlotte." She suspected that he had never been there, and it oc curred to her thus to intimate her disapproval of Dun can's neglect of inviting to his house a professional brother. 22 WIDOW GUTimiE. " All ! Cousin Duncan has been more careless than I would have thought, priding himself as he does in knowing all about society manners and duties. But he seems to think that Alice doesn't care about young men's society other than his own. I have sometimes berated him for never introducing a gentleman to her. It's ridiculous ; he ought to know better, and he does know better. Well, if you ever are in that house, you will see, if there is such a person in the world, a perfect lady. As a wife, as a mistress over servants, as an arranger and manager of house matters, and as a host ess, there's never a place for an objection to her." When he had seen her home and bidden good-night, he turned, and on his way to the tavern where he boarded ruminated on the incidents of the evening. Country- born as he was, loyal to his origin and his family, he had a head as cool as his spirit was aspiring. Charlotte was a prize above the reach of any present endeavors on his part. He knew that well enough, and, indeed, he regarded it as most probable that she always would be. Yet the rise and growth in his heart of a strong affection served to make no alteration in his habits not even in his bi-monthly visits to his native place from Saturday night until Monday morning. In town he visited in moderation at houses to which lie had been invited and knew himself to be welcome. Courteous to everybody, frank in speech and bearing, considerate toward women of every degree of property and culture, yet, when waiting upon Charlotte Macfarlane, in his manner was something which told that the interest felt for her was different from that indulged for any other. Well aware of the feeling of Guthrie, who looked upon WIDOW GUTHRIE. 23 him at first as an audacious country upstart, and latterly as a formidable professional rival, lie was of a sort that such hostility stiffens rather than discourages. After conflicts at the bar, in which successes outnumbered defeats, he felt himself stimulated to yet more deter mined purpose in the silent pursuit of one dear object by thoughts of an opponent to whom he had proved a full match elsewhere. The courtship of a man in such circumstances is necessarily slow. That of Thomas Tolly was too much so for the movements of the other persons in this tale, in which he is to take a subordinate and not sentimental part ; and so, with good wishes for his ultimate success, I must leave out that portion of his career. CHAPTER IV. WIDOW GUTHRIE. ANOTHER talk more or less confidential was had that same night and at the same hour. "Alice, I think you might have exhibited less de- mureness to-night, and I don't well see how you can easily excuse yourself for what I should call rudeness to Miss Jewell." " 1 was not rude to Miss Jewell, Duncan ; at least, I did not mean to be. Her compassion of me, as I regarded her occasional gushing cordiality, was not as agreeable as the chat I was having with Mrs. Wendell 24 WIDOW GUTHRIE. at the time she came to me last, and I merely wanted to let her know it, and that I was satisfied with the hos pitality I received from the family without need of her special assurances." " I can't divine what you mean by the use of the word compassion" " She looked as if she was rather sorry for me, I thought." " I'd like to know for what. For God Almighty's sake, do tell me." " You need not have used such an adjuration about so small a matter as Miss Jewell's pity for me. I sup pose she guessed that I was feeling bad, and thought she might extend at least temporary relief, and decided to do so." " Oh, Alice, Alice ! "What is the use of tormenting yourself and me also by indulging in suspicions that are wholly without, foundation ? You hurt the woman keenly by your conduct." " Yet she went back to the piano, and, smiling gra ciously upon you the while, played in a way the most elaborate of the evening." "Yes. And it was done in answer to your treat ment of her." " So, I regarded it, aud it was on her tongue to say that it was not quite loyal of him to be so complacent at an understood in stance of resentment toward his wife. But she was weary, and so held her peace. " Oh, well, well," he said with sudden affectionate- ness, " I was wrong to urge you to go there against your feelings, and I ought -not to have said what I did just WIDOW GUTHRIE. 25 now. You know, Alice, that I not only love you with all my heart, but admire you above all women." And in the shadow of the cedars lining the avenue to his house, putting his hand under her chin, he lifted her face and kissed her. It all seemed so natural that as she wept thankful and regretful tears, encircling her with his arm, he bore her within. The next morning at the breakfast-table, Mr. Mac- farlane asked his daughter : " How did you get home last night, Charlotte ? Al fred Jamison bring you ? " " No, father, Mr. Tolly." " Aye ? Young Tolly visits a good deal, doesn't he ? " " About the same as other young men, I think." " How does he hold with the rest, including Dun can ? for they say he's as fond of going about as any of the unmarried ones, though Alice, sensible woman, isn't much on that line. How does Tolly get along ? " " Very well, father, as far as I know. He hasn't Cousin Duncan's polish, but lie doesn't seem to care much about acquiring it, and therefore appears to be at sufficient ease. He is certainly very courteous, and to all women alike." " That shows sense, and principle too. They are an independent sort of people, the Tollys, and entirely re spectable ; plain about like their neighbors, the Staple- tons, whose coming into the family your Aunt Hester thinks such a disgrace that she won't do what she ought for Caroline. Tolly is rising at the bar very fast, and in time, if he lives and persists on the line he's been mrsuing, is bound to become a leading lawyer. Does 26 WIDOW GUTHRIE. the fellow seem to have a fancy for any young woman in particular ? " " How should I know, father ? " she answered, laughing. " I have never heard of any pronounced movement that he has made in that direction." " That looks sensible, too ; the longer a young man in his circumstances waits that is, in reason the better are his chances to marry to advantage. If he is not in too great a hurry, he'll get a wife if he wants one such as I suspect he couldn't get just now. If Miss Jewell had money, that might suit, provided he could get her, as I suppose he could. She and the "Wendells came of good old New England stock. We made that a condition in our inquiry for a teacher. What a mag nificent young woman she is! If she had been here when I was a young man, and your mother hadn't been about, there's no telling what might have happened." He smiled as if thinking what a destiny had been missed by Miss Jewell's coming on so late. " If you had seen her waltz last night, father, you would have thought her magnificent, indeed." "Waltz ? I didn't know that Mr. Wendell allowed waltzing in his house." " It wasn't on a scale that would hurt, husband," said Mrs. Macfarlane. "Charlotte tells me that only Miss Jewell and Anna Wendell engaged in it. Duncan wanted to, but Mr. Wendell said no." " Duncan ! Yes, I'll be bound for Duncan getting into such as that when he can. Mr. Wendell was right. Does Tolly ever allude to John Stapleton, Charlotte ? " " Often, very often ; he says that Cousin John is the best man he is acquainted with." WIDOW GUTIIRIE. 27 "Yes? Everybody thinks well of Mr. Stapleton except Hester and Duncan, of course. Ah, me ! trouble is to come of it, some time, I fear." Indeed, here was a case which had given to the Macfarlanes much anxiety. Mrs. Guthrie, now in the sixties, in spite of her snow-white hair and furrowed face, was handsome. The original ruddiness of her com plexion had been saved by energetic work and generous living. Married to a man much older than herself, after she had borne to him wo children, he went into a decline. It was not a difficult matter for such a woman to obtain ascendency over a husband whose understand ing dwindled faster than his physical being. Availing herself of this opportunity, assured that she was doing what was her full right to do, she induced him to exe cute a last will and testament in which she was nomi nated executrix and sole legatee. She had managed the estate well. The first child, Caroline, on corning of age, against her mother's most hostile opposition, married John Stapleton. A happy marriage it had proved, although the husband had added little to his own small patrimony and the dowry of half a dozen ne groes given reluctantly and against her previous threat- enings by Mrs. Guthrie. A sturdy, handsome, rather gigantic countryman, he attended with reasonable dili gence to the business of his little plantation, had his hounds and his pointer, lived well, but kept himself out of debt. lie worshiped his wife, and, whenever he met with her mother, treated her courteously as other elderly ladies. This was not often. He never rent to her house, except to carry thither or bring iway his wife, or, at the latter's request, to inquire, 28 WIDOW GUTHRIE. when in town, about her health. Once or twice a year Mrs. Guthrie went down in her carriage to see her daughter, declaring every time that it was as much as her own life was worth, to say nothing of the car riage, to travel over that awful road. Her soiwn-law listened to such complainings with polite sympathy but never had a word to say ih agreement with her de nunciation of the county authorities, two of whom were his neighbors, and the other three well-known good men. If she tarried the night he was not made extremely unhappy by her saying she had had hardly a wink of sleep, and he expressed neither surprise nor gratification at her relish of the good breakfast which his wife had provided. When she was leaving he bade good-by as he would have done with any respectable parting guest, and perhaps for the rest of that day was more demonstrative than usual in words and caresses bestowed upon his wife. The latter, a tall blonde of much beauty, loved him with all her heart, and believed in him as the very best of mankind. The difference in the manner of living of her chil dren led Mrs. Guthrie to prefer that at least her kins folk and her few familiar acquaintances should under stand her feelings and the motives for her treatment. "I like the creature well enough, and I'd try to like him better if he had some manners, and if he'd show some sort of respect for me, knowing that even if I did think Caroline threw herself away when she married him, still, I'm her mother and I'm entitled to be treated de cently, especially as I've got the property all in my hands. But John Stapleton is one of that kind that he don't appear to have any more respect for property than he WIDOW GUTHRIE. 29 has for me ; and sometimes I'm not quite certain in my mind if he's got right good sense. Not that he's dis- respectful; because, even if Duncan was out of the case, he ought to know, I suppose, that I'm not the woman to stand such as that from him nor anybody like him ; but it's his unconcern that after I've laid down my work and my business, and taken the trouble to make Moses stop his work in the garden and about the lot, and hitch the horses to the carriage, and run the risk of my life over those roads that are a shame to the whole county, he meets me and he treats me as if I was no body but any other common country-woman ; and he never says here nor there about me nor about my peace of mind except what everybody is bound to say the whole time I'm there, and not even when I come away. And every time I go there I wonder what it is in him that makes Caroline so wrapped up in him. It seems to me that she gets worse instead of better, and she won't even listen to my making over to her another family of negroes which Mr. Macfarlane kept on hinting I ought to do. She says she wants no property to come there that don't belong to John Stapleton. I'm not denying but what he's a great, tall, healthy, good- natured, and reasonably good-looking sort of a fellow ; but when I was a girl such as that never moved me, and I kept myself from marrying any of them until one came that had something to back it, and was of good old Virginia stock in the bargain. Mr. Guthrie was a man that had the sense and the judgment to see he had a wife that looked into things before she plunged head foremost into them, and that made him leave the will e did. Never mind ; they'll both find out who they're 30 WIDOW QUTHRIE. fooling with, and that to their sorrow. Now, there's Duncan. I don't say Duncan Guthrie is any saint, nor he doesn't set up for one. But he has never forgot who he came from. Caroline never not from the time she was a child she never appeared to feel that her business was to help keep up the family name. Now, Alice may think that she has some fault to find with Duncan as a husband ; but my experience of men is that the most of them are going to do pretty much as they please about some things, and if I was in Alice's place, I shouldn't be bothering myself too much about what I couldn't help. Duncan is not a quarrelsome person, and, with me to help him, is a splendid pro vider. His wife had family, and she had property ; and still that boy treats me with the very same respect he always did, notwithstanding Alice this is in confi dence just between us she did it at first ; but she don't now ; she tried to make me divide out with Caro line as far as I had with Duncan. For Alice is a woman that, though an excellent good woman to my belief, yet she's not had experience, living all of her life away up there on the other side of Broad Kiver, where society is entirely too much mixed up to suit my no tions. But I nipped that in the bud, and I gave her to understand that I'd rather not hear her express any opinion about the way I was managing my own busi ness. I tell Alice she ought to be satisfied with how much better she did marrying than Caroline, although Caroline thinks no more of me than to tell me to my very face that she believes she has the very best hus band in this world, sickening as she knows it is to me to hear such foolishness. But, after all, I'm glad Alice WIDOW GUTHR1E. 31 i^n't ashamed of them and likes them as well as she does, because it saves talk and looks better in a com munity." Alice, at her coming into the family, had conceived lor her sister-in-law a warm affection, and, in her sim- pleness of heart, expressed her surprise at the dissatis- j'action with John Stapletoii, who, as she said with na tive frankness, was a man much to be admired. Feeling it her duty to try to effect a reconciliation, knowing little of the inner natures of those with whom she was to deal, she went to her task with the directness in which she had been reared. Pained and ashamed to find her efforts wholly unavailing with both her mother- in-law and her husband, she ceased to interfere. It was a great disappointment, the first she had ever had, and it served to bring upon her heart a dread that was to grow darker. No quarrel had ever been between Dun can and his sister or her husband. lie had never been at their house, and although Alice and Caroline visited occasionally, John Stapleton had never been at Guth- rie's except on the occasion when with his wife he had called upon the bride. Whenever the men happened to meet, they spoke as any other two acquaintances be tween whom was no familiarity. The decisive answer given by her husband to Alice's remonstrances regard ing the state of the family relations was in these words : " Alice, my advice to you is to let that business alone. You don't know mother. I do. If she were to try not to make a difference between me and Caro line, she couldn't. She always would have favorites. In this case it is myself, and it isn't every man's wife that would object to such as that. If it wasn't I, it 32 WIDOW GUTHRIE. would be Caroline. That's just my luck. Mother, as I think you must have seen, is not pleased with your interference, and if it does anything, it will do no good, to Caroline certainly. I've tried, and so has Uncle Dennis, to get her to let them have at least another family of negroes and a little money to add to their plantation ; but it served only to anger her, and she said at last that I stood in my own light by asking such a thing of her. Still, she did offer to make over to Caro line some negroes ; but she would not accept them on those terms. Stapleton, no doubt, had put her up to it." " He is a noble gentleman, that's what Mr. Staple- ton is ; and his wife, who is as fine a woman as I ever saw, knows it ! " " High ! " said he, smiling with good-humored irony, " that tall chevalier seems to have struck your fancy, my dear, as well as Caroline's." " Duncan," she answered, " fancy has nothing to do with it. If father had proposed to make over to my separate use the property he gave you at our marriage I shouldn't have been willing to accept it. Would you have wished me to ? " " No ; that I wouldn't. The cases are very differ ent." Stung with shame for his selfishness, she became silent, and for a long time did not allude to the subject again. In those times, curious as it may seem to us, a man at marriage became by law entitled to all the prop erty then held by his wife or afterward devolved upon her by purchase or inheritance, unless by antenuptial settlement or other paper by which it was acquired it - WIDOW GUTHR1E. 33 was made free from marital control. Even as to prop erty not reduced into possession during the wife's life- cime, the husband, by becoming her administrator, was exempted from making to the Ordinary returns of his management, and thus made sole owner of that also. As for such precontracts, they were seldom made. The public mind, almost universally, was opposed to them, as degrading to the husband's manhood and prolific of domestic unhappiness. Marriage was regarded as merg ing of a woman's being in that of her husband. There are persons yet living who remember the first libel for divorce in that whole region, and the surprise and awe when its news was spread abroad. Women grew up to have the same views as men upon this subject, and in 1he few cases where such settlements were suggested by parents, their daughters cordially ratified refusals by their husbands to accept property upon such terms. In this case the community, without exception, justified Caroline Stapleton, who did not even wait to consult the feelings and wishes of her husband. Affection and confidence between these two young women grew in tenderness as they came to know each other better. Along with compassion in the one who seemed far more fortunate, there was in her heart grat- ulation for the other whose husband had shown himself full worthy of all the affection and trust and reliance that were bestowed upon him. Mr. Ludwell had given Duncan a handsome portion of his large estate. The young wife, like Portia, wished for his sake that she had been ten thousand times more rich, and she joyed in the feeling that herself and what was hers to him and his had been converted. He could have had much happiness 34 WIDOW GUTHRIE. with such a wife if he had been one to appreciate the gifts for which she was to be loved more than for the beauty and wealth which she had brought. Her mother had warned her against being exacting of corresponding returns for what she was giving so freely, and she had tried to school herself to make allowance for faults which, to a degree apparent to herself, more so to her parents, before the marriage, were found to be more pronounced and reckless than she could have been made to believe. Rumors of some of his habits had reached her father, and although indefinite had dis turbed him, yet less than those of the treatment of Mrs. Stapleton by his mother, a thing which Mr. Lud- well believed that he ought to have prevented. Duncan, during his courtship, had alluded to this, but, seeing his mistake, afterward spoke of his sister in very affection ate terms, and said that his mother was in some respects a rather peculiar woman, and that it was his own inten tion to see that Caroline should get a just portion of the estate left by their father. To Alice it was some consolation, poor of its kind, but better than none, to blame Mrs. Guthrie for never having curbed but, instead, striven to intensify a selfishness and exacerbate a temper inherited from herself. Yet she behaved toward her with as much consideration as was consistent with the absence of filial affection that was impossible. A loyal wife, made more loyal, if possible, by fears of being driven to prize her husband lower than she had counted upon, she strove to persuade herself that it was her duty to be happier than she felt herself to be. The return of physical health made her stronger in heart, and peo ple were gratified when she seemed to take on some WIDOW GUTHRIE. 35 giyety which contrasted prettily with her native seri ousness. Always having loved Charlotte Macfarlane, she grew to have much affection for her parents, espe cially her mother, upon whom, as it must go somewhere, site bestowed the feeling that she acknowledged in her 1 .eart to be due but could not be paid to her mother-in- law. Seeing that her husband cared not that she should have much of the society of young men, married or unmarried, she treated these with simple civility, and Jet her social cordiality go to ladies and elderly gen tlemen. Lately, and notably since the evening at the Wendells', Guthrie had been uncommonly affectionate, and she was beginning to hope that after all she might come to be as happy a wife as most married women with whom she had acquaintance. Perhaps the standard she had lifted was too lofty. Her husband felt that he knew well enough how to conciliate when conciliation was important for the compassing of a desired end. Con scious of this gift, he seemed not to be afraid of losing it, but it is one whose security against abuse requires cau tiousness that he had not well learned. Indeed, he never had opportunities to learn it. Nurtured from his very infancy in exorbitant selfishness which he believed himself entitled to indulge notwithstanding every risk, along with the blame for much of his deportment there was in thoughtful minds some compassion. Not irasci ble like his mother, instead, affable in his address and liberal with his money, he could never attain popularity, which he anxiously desired, because it was impossible for him to conceal, or even try to conceal his sense of superiority over a large majority of people which had been imparted by his birth, education, and fortune. , 36 WIDOW GUTHKIE. Tlie path in which he had been trained to walk must lead to misfortune, and good people pitied that he had never seen the need of divergence. CHAPTER Y. PETEKSON BBADDY. THE tavern in Clarke, kept by Lewis Junkin, was better than it looked. A lumbering building, begun in the infancy of the village with a two-story house whose piazza opened upon a corner of the public square, fac ing the street that led southward, it had grown irregu larly back and sideways, one addition opening with its plain but threatening piazza upon the back yard and looking into a garden in which Mrs. Junkin raised vegetables more than enough. It kept an inexpensive but uncommonly nice table. Tolly was one of the regu lar boarders. Almost every day one or more men from the country, and even in the village, came there to din ner. Guthrie did this sometimes rather than walk to his residence, half a mile distant. After dinner the guests usually sat for an hour in a large chamber, called in that time the bar-room, and chatted before going back to their business. Guthrie was there on the day after the party at the Wendells'. The subject of inter est, both at the table and in the bar-room, was a duel that had taken place a few days before between two South Carolinians, news of which had just come. The PETERSON BRADDY. 37 occasion was an alleged wrong done to a man's sister ; the result was the escape of the injurer and the danger ous wounding of the other. Guthrie was quite pro nounced in his opinions. After dinner, the rest, except Tolly and the landlord, having had as much discussion as they cared for, went away, leaving these in the bar room. " Yes, Tolly," said Guthrie, after lighting a cigar, " I say, good for Gregory I General .Frierson could not consent to a connection so far below the standing of his family, and the girl might have known that he wasn't going to marry her." " But they say that he was actually engaged to her." " So they say, I know. But must a man who is a gentleman born, whose ancestors before him were gen tlemen, lose his life for flirting with a pretty girl who enjoyed the fun as much as he did, and then fire up be cause she was disappointed of making it a lifetime piece of business ? " "Well, Mr. Guthrie," said Junkin, "I shouldn't want no man, no matter who he was, nor what sort of folks he come from, to be projeckin in that kind o' style with a girl that was anything to me." " O Junkin," he answered, as if kindly to assure him of his entire security from such an injury, " I've no idea that yoiCll ever be bothered in that way." The only Miss Junkin, though an excellent daugh ter and help to her mother, was rather lank and plain faced to be in great danger from such a man as General Frierson. " I should much ruther hope not, Mr. Guthrie." " But, Junkin, suppose your fatherly feelings should 38 WIDOW GUTHRIB. be wrought up in that way ; what would you do ? "Would you challenge the fellow ? " " I couldn't say what I'd do, Mr. Guthrie. But I'd do somethin' that would be a caution, without he killed me before I done it." " All ! there, you see, is the difficulty, Junkin." And he seemed quite amused at the possible category into which Junkin would be thrown by a temporary infatu ation for his daughter on the part of some young man of high family. " Yes," was the humble reply, " but, Mr. Guthrie, a man, no matter how poor he is nor how little some people may think of his people, if he's a man at all, he's bound to take the resk of his family sometimes. And then, you know, Mr. Tolly, that if a man ain't what the other think is his equil he won't fight a juel with him, even if he was to channelge him ; so they ain't nothing to do, seem to me, but to pick up some- thin', and haul off and knock his brains out." The words stung Guthrie somewhat, but, as they were addressed to Tolly, he said nothing in reply. " I agree with you, Mr. Junkin," said Tolly, " that a man in such a case would be apt to feel as if he must do something, no matter how far inferior in some re spects he might be regarded by the assailant of the peace and honor of his family." " Among gentlemen, equal or approximating equal ity, or for the nonce admitted to be equal, you kno\v, Tolly," said Guthrie, " the code duello is regarded suffi cient for providing for the redress of grievances, real or imaginary. As for unequals, they have their resort to the courts for pecuniary damages." PETERSON BRADDY. 39 At this moment Junkin was called away. " Aye ; but, Mr. Guthrie, there are few so poor and so humble who would not feel that the acceptance of money for an injury done to one's honor would add to the first disgrace rather than condone it. Such cases, fortunately rare in our society, must be settled each according to its circumstances. They would be more rare if the public laws and society would make punishment, one felony and the other social ostracism." " Impracticable, both, Tolly. The mistake with the friends of such a girl is in making too much ado." " Better let her suffer in silence, eh ? " " Well, yes, unless she can be content with redresses that are provided. The best way to simplify such mat ters is for the different ranks of society to keep apart from anything like serious connection, and let it be un derstood generally that mere gallantries must take care of themselves. Then, you know, Tolly ah ! good day, Peter." The person who had just entered the room, rather diminutive in stature, black eyed and black haired, his high hat worn jauntily on a side of his head, neatly dressed in home-made clothes, moved and looked as if he felt entirely competent to take care of himself on any sort of occasion. " Do, sir," he answered stiffly to Guthrie's saluta- ion. Passing on to Tolly and extending his small mnd, he said : "Howdye, Tom. What's all the good news with you ? " "Well, Tolly," said Guthrie. "I've stayed here over my time, and forgot an appointment with a cli- 40 WIDOW GUTHRIE. ent." Saying which, he went out. The new-comer looked at him as he was departing, and said : " That great man is so condescendin' that he can fall in here sometimes and chat with common folks ? " " Oh, yes, Peter, Guthrie stops in right often, and we have a little chat while smoking our cigars. How are you all ? " " Ma's not quite as well as I'd like for her to be. Sister Patsy is all right. So I believe they are over at Emily's. As for me, I'm straight as a shingle, like I always am, thank God. You look well, Tom. I ex pect I know more about your folks than you do. I was down to Jack Stapleton's yisterday. He said everybody over at your pa's was alive and kickin'." " How is Jack ? and how are Mrs. Stapleton and Alan?" " Missis Stapleton is simple splendid, splendidest woman in the State. Alan grows like a pig, and Jack's fine, a heap finer than any such triflin' fellow had ought to be. I go down occasional and have a fox hunt with him, and give him a little cussin' out for his no-accountness. I love him so much I can't cuss him hard enough 'to do any good. But yit I ain't without hopes, as the preachers says." " What are you cursing Jack about ? " " Oh, you know, Tom Tolly. It's for lettin' his- self and his wife be run over by Dunk Guthrie and his old mother, and be kept out of prop'ty that they're as much entitled to as you are to that coat you got on your back and more too if you hain't paid for it, which I doubt, livin' in town, frolickin' around at parties, and dressin' every day same as Sunday. Take a pile o' law PETERSON BRADDY. 41 practice to keep up with such as that. I been doin' my best to git you a case, and I will some day if Jack'll ever live to be any account." " I thank you for your solicitude, Peter," Tolly said good-lmmoredly, " but " he added with soin.e seri ousness, " I'd rather you would not suggest my name as a lawyer to Jack. If he should ever conclude that any of his rights are withheld, and then should decide to try to obtain them by resort to legal proceedings, I would not like for any friend of mine, especially one as near to him and me as you are, to even suggest my name to him as counsel." " Oh, I'm not goin' to hurt you with Jack, Tom Tolly. I couldn't, if I was to try. He knows you too well for that. I've only tried to git him for the sake of his wife and child, and another he's goin' to have soon, and the Lord knows how many more, to wake up and git some lawyer makes no odds who, if he's got the sense and go to court and knock the old man Guthrie's will sky high, which it ought to have been done long ago. Anybody else but Jack would have done it, be cause everybody that knowed Alan Guthrie knowed that his daughter Calline was his. favorite child if he had any favorite, anH he knowed his wife was predi- jiced in favor of Dunk ; and so when he broke down in his head as well as his body, and didn't hardly have sense enough to git out of a shower o' rain, much less make a will, she got that fellow Suttle to write one, and then made Mr. Guthrie sign it, givin' the whole kit and bilin' of it to her a even includin' the appurt'n- inces. But I don't want to talk about that to-day, so m after haulin' Jack over the coals. I come in on a 42 WIDOW GUTHR1E. little business, and as I was about to go back home, I thought I'd step in and see how you was a thrivin'. The sight of Dunk Guthrie made me think of Jack, and the mad come over me not expected. What's on top of his big mind to-day 2 I heerd him a-ex'cisin' his woice time I put my foot on the tavern step." "We were discussing the question of dueling that was suggested by the late rencounter between Gregory and General Frierson." The little man laughed. " Yes ; he's a nice fellow to talk about julin ! Well, I got to go back. Take care o' yourself, Tom. You know I can't be always with you to keep you out of destruction. Good-day." As this gentleman is to take a part in a few of the scenes in this story, I must give some account of him and his surroundings. Two miles south of town, near the road leading to O Philips's Bridge on Little River, in a humble story- and-a-half house, surrounded by a few large red oaks, dwelt the Widow Braddy and her two children, Martha Simkins, now a widow, and Peterson, whom we have just seen. They owned a small farm of very good land, adjoining a larger estate of William Pruitt, who was Mrs. Simkins's son-in-law. They had a few ne groes, whom they worked with moderation. Not am bitious to be rich, they lived freely and so hospitably that they made but slow reductions of a debt left by their late head as surety for one of his neighbors. There was much family affection among them, especial ly on the part of all the rest for Peterson, who, not withstanding his fondness for society of various sorts, PETERSON BRADDY. 43 was never neglectful of home duties, for the sake of which he had remained unmarried. At home, simple and deferential to his mother and his widowed sister, abroad, the announcement of his views was in inverse ratio to the size of his body and the extent of his in formation. Yet the full trust that everybody had in his integrity and courage kept him from being made a butt of any more ridicule than he seemed willing to en dure. His sleeping chamber, detached from the main dwelling, was a sufficiently comfortable hewed log struct ure of sixteen feet square, situated in a corner of the yard near the garden gate ; for he was fond of being considered and called a little wild, and his hours did not always suit those of the ladies whose wont was to retire to bed of nights at nine o'clock. In these bache lor quarters he usually did likewise when he had no companions. Young men from the neighborhood and from town, after being out there to supper, which they knew before was to be as square a meal as any reason able body would conscientiously look for, afterward de layed for a little game of "poker" or " old, sledge." The stake was always inconsiderable ; but it was pleas ant among his companions to hear him curse the cards whenever he was loser and lift up his laugh when he had an extra dollar or two at the end. It was not that lie cared so much for the money, although in money matters calculating and economical, but he delighted in victory even more than he raged at defeat. In business matters he was thoroughly reliable. In reports of what he had done he was always pardoned for suspected exaggerations. The principal field of his autobiograph ical narrations was the State of Florida, where, when he 44 WIDOW GUTHRIE. was about grown, he served with General Floyd during the military operations under General Jackson in the late war with Great Britain. It was the pride of his life that he had been with that illustrious hero and known him personally. In his eyes dueling had been consecrated ever since the meeting of Jackson with Dickinson. Personal courage he regarded as the high est attribute of a man, and he was one of those, not numerous, who, while fond of talking about fighting, was intrepid to the last degree. Not quarrelsome, a taker as freely as a giver of practical jokes, yet on pub lic occasions, as election days, muster days, days of court sessions, and sometimes unmarked days, besides a heavy walking-stick heavily loaded with an iron point, he carried a small single-barreled pistol. This last he had never been known to draw but once, and that was on an election day, when, having given his cane to a small man whom he did not know, but who was backing from the assault of one his superior in size and strength, lie made himself ready to defend his own interference. " The fact of the business is," he said sometimes, " I'm most ashamed to ever put a pistol in my pocket ; but, as everybody knows, I'm not a very large man, and I h&ve my opinions, and I don't exactly like the idea of bein' run over when I'm a expressin' of 'em ; and fightin' these days, I mean honor'ble fightin', has got to that, if you channelge a man, he'll aggervate you worse by pleadin' he aint your equil, and in that way crawfish out of it." Some there were, not many, who knew that in these last words he alluded to Duncan Guthrie, with -whom only a few weeks before the latter's marriage he and PETERSON BRADDY. 4.5 his family had had a rather trying experience. Emily Simians, his sister's daughter, at fifteen was almost a beauty. Already at the village school she had got more education than had fallen to the lot of the rest of the family, when William Pruitt, a sturdy well-to-do young bachelor near by, made her an offer of marriage. The girl, knowing what a good opportunity it was, and seeing that her family were much in favor of it, accepted on condition that she should have another year's schooling. In the following fall it was noticed that she began to talk about her lover and to him with less cordiality than theretofore. His patient nature and his great love for her made him endure without com plaint. In this while she was more vivacious than usual, and took uncommon pains in her dressing and such adornings as she could command. She usually went forth and back with some other children whose parents dwelt a little further on from town. Latterly on the return she often loitered behind them, getting home alone. One evening her mother having ex pressed her disapproval of such behavior, she answered fretfully : " Ma, I wish you wouldn't pester yourself about me. I know how to take care of myself." This answer, uttered at the back door, was over heard by her uncle, who was sitting under a fig-tree before his door. " Why high ! " he exclaimed, to her surprise and alarm ; for, with all her fond affection for him, she dreaded his displeasure more than that of both mother and grandmother. Inquiring the occasion of such petu lance, he learned that for several evenings Duncan Guth- 46 WIDOW GUTHRIE. rie had 'joined her at the edge of town as she lingered behind her companions, and had accompanied her a part of the way home. Alarmed and incensed, he questioned the girl closely enough to find out that Outline, deny ing the reports of his engagement to Miss Ludwell, had been making pretense of love to her. She was stopped from school at once, and this fact was made known to Guthrie the next day by the children, of whom he had inquired the cause of her absence. William Pruitt, for giving her temporary disloyalty, took her to wife a few weeks afterward, and since they had been living in con tentment. But one morning, some days after hearing of the connection with Outline, Braddy rode leisurely to town, hitched his horse to a rack on the court house square, and seeing Guthrie among others before the door of the post-office, where the weekly mail from Augusta was being distributed, he sauntered thither. Cordially greeted by all, after returning their friendly assurances, he rested his eyes with -apparent complacency upon Guthrie. " What's all the news with you, Pete ? " said the latter. "Oh, nothin' so very interestin'. Country folks have to come to town to git news. They tell me there's a weddin' on hand. That's always good news." " Aye ! what's up now ? " "I'm told that you're to go through the prelimi naries before long somewheres t'other side of Broad River." " But, Pete, you know that is nobody's business but mine." " Oh, that's so, I expect, Mr. Guthrie ; still, that kind -S Jt. I got a little business with you. Mr. Guthrie. PETERSON BRADDY. 47 o' news is always in gener'l interestin' in a community v here such high and interestin' people lives." Guthrie looked at him darkly, and his look was met v ith a steadiness that seemed as if its giver was amused. After a moment the countryman said : " I got a little business with you, Mr. Guthrie, when ic suit you." " All right, Pete," he answered, dismissing the feeling that had risen momentarily at what he consid- ( red a rather insolent liberty. " Come to my office in half an hour." When he entered the office, Guthrie, from an arm chair by his desk, said : " Take a seat, Pete." " I don't care about settin', Mr. Guthrie. It ain't a business of law I wanted to see you about, because, in a event of that kind, there's other people I should call on. I just wanted to say that your waylayin' of my sister's daughter, that she's not old enough to know the worth of any sort of attentions from a man like you, weren't what a honor'ble man, and one promised to a honor'ble woman, it weren't what he ought to have done." Guthrie rose, took from the mantel a box of cigars, chose one, bit it, and, partially extending the box, said : " Smoke ? " " I do, but not now." " Mr. Braddy," said Duncan, shifting his cigar about in his mouth, " I declare I don't exactly know what you mean by such talk. As for the few little playful ohats with your niece, which I thought she understood, I-^of course, if she says so I'll not repeat them." 48 WIDOW GUTHRIE. "It ain't her that has anything to say to you about it, sir ; it's me" " O Braddy," waving his hand testily, " I've no time to be discussing such a trifling affair with you, and I've got no more to say about it." " All right, sir ; I just wanted to tell you that if it wasn't for fetchin' out my sister's child's name, I'd channelge you to fight a juel, sir." A hearty laugh was the answer to this threatening speech. A quivering hand was thrown by Braddy be hind him, and grasped the weapon in his coat pocket. An instant afterward he smiled and said : " No, it wouldn't be right. There's no more dan ger in him nohow. But, lookee here, my Lord Guth- rie, as old Gen'al Jackson used to call people lie had a perfect contemp' for, I gi\;e you warnin' not to cross my path any more. If you do, and then is above fightin' a juel w T ith such as me, I'll shoot you the same as I'd shoot a dog after one of my lambs." Then he turned and slowly went out. Few men were more brave than Guthrie, and few more apt to recognize the necessity of curbing resent ment. In any circumstances it would have seemed to him ridiculous to have to accord to such a man the sat isfaction then usual among gentlemen ; but, except for his approaching marriage, he would have attempted to chastise him. As it was, he congratulated himself upon his composure. Yet on the next day he rode up to the Ludwell's and succeeded in hastening his marriage, which took place soon thereafter. There was some talk about the affair, but the girl's marriage put an MISS JEWELL AT DUNCAN GUTHRIE'S. 49 end to it. From that time, whenever Braddy spoke of Guthrie, and this was seldom, it was with dis gust. CHAPTER VI. MISS JEWELL AT DUNCAN GUTHKIE's. ONE outcome of the restoration of Alice to health and confidence, and from these to cheerfulness, was the following : " Duncan," she said one morning when breakfast was over, " if it will suit your convenience and your wishes, I am going to invite Miss Jewell to tea and to spend this evening with us." " All right, darling," he answered, " if you feel like it. I don't know but what we would be expected to show her some little civility for the sake of the school if nothing else. But I want you to do just as you feel like doing." Kissing her good-by, he left at once and proceeded to his office. An hour afterward Miss Jewell received a note of invitation for that same evening, Alice adding that she would provide for her an escort home after ward. It was a good supper and a dainty. The hostess, in a pale gown with flowing drapery which set off mod estly her fine figure, was cordially hospitable. As if she would make manifest her entire confidence in her husband and her guest, she remained longer than was 4 50 WIDOW GUTHRIE. necessary in the dining-room, to have the table cleared and the china and silver put away. Afterward she did her best to make her entertainment pleasant to both. Her husband, well experienced in society, made himself agreeable to both ladies, and seemed by his well-timed remarks to wish them to be well pleased with each other. Once wjiile standing near his wife, placing an arm behind her back, he said : " Miss Jewell, I had heard of a rare flower that was in bloom near the bank of Dove Creek beyond Broad River, and I went up there to look for it. When I saw it I plucked it with all possible speed, fearing that if its existence should become known to other men it might be lost to me." " It was a thing to do, Mr. Guthrie," said Miss Jew ell, " as happy as it was prompt." Alice accepted their compliments as things more than she expected, and set herself to other entertain ment. Miss Jewell brightened more and more, and when at the piano played with noticeable preference the pieces that Alice had asked for. In their intervals she addressed herself mainly to her, and praised, but not too much, the arrangement of her furniture and the flowers in the vases. A true man would have been pleased by what he knew to have been done at some sacrifice. As it was, after making his one speech, lie smiled feebly at the efforts of these ladies to entertain each other, and seemed to be waiting with commenda ble patience for the evening to come to an end. All except Miss Jewell were surprised at ten o'clock by a knock at the door. " Aye," said she in a business-like tone, rising from MISS JEWELL AT DUNCAN GUTHRIE'S. 51 the sofa, " there is Mr. Tolly, whom I asked to come for me." " What ! " exclaimed Alice. " Why, Miss Jewell, Duncan has been expecting to take you home." " Ah ha ! " answered the guest, raising a finger, "but that was a trouble that I meant to spare this house, and so I put it upon one whom I knew it would not very much discomfit." Tolly, admitted by a servant, entered the drawing- room, hat in hand. It was his first appearance there ; for, although Alice had suggested it once, and only once, he had never been invited to the house. She met him with both hands extended. " Hello, Tolly ! " cried Guthrie, with enforced cor diality, " I'm glad to see you ; rather, I'm sorry, consid ering the errand on which you have come," taking his hat and putting it on the rack. Then he added with polite complaining : " As this is the first time that you have honored this house with a visit, you shall sit down and take of such refection as Mrs. Guthrie may have to offer to so distinguished a guest." Tolly took a chair and accepted easily what was brought in. In his own house Guthrie had no diffi culty in covering his disappointment. The rights and duties of hospitality in that generation had kept much of their old-time sacredness, and, a man of brave instincts, he could not but feel some pleasure in having under his roof such a man as Tom Tolly, and some regret that he had not been there sooner. Alice behaved toward the guest with a simple graciousness that was delightful, and in the brief while that he was there seemed to him, while chatting and looking at 52 WIDOW GUTHRIE. Miss Jewell, sometimes as if she would appeal to her not to molest her in the possession of what undenia bly was her own. When they were about to leave she said : " Mr. Tolly, here are some flowers that I gathered for Miss Jewell this evening, and have been keeping in water that they might remain fresh. Now, sir, you are to carry them for her with much carefulness. In advance, as part of your reward, I pin this rosebud and this little white jessamine on your coat. The rest you are to have in the pleasure of escorting her home." When they had gone, Guthrie said : " You did nicely, Alice, very nicely." Then light ing a cigar, he went out into the piazza and sat and smoked until long after she had gone to bed. She had expected a more hearty indorsement. Now she felt disappointed and humiliated. Yet she tried not to complain even to her own heart, and, after saying her prayers, went to bed and in time found sleep. " How well Mrs. Guthrie shows in her own house ? " Miss Jewell said to Tolly ; " her tastefulness and her ladylike hospitality impressed me much." " Yes. Guthrie, if he could know it that is, if lie could know it constantly has for wife an uncommonly fine woman." " Of course he knows it, Mr. Tolly. He seemed to night particularly fond of her." " I'm glad to hear it ; yet he could not hide from me at least his disappointment at my coming for you." " That must have been only in your imagination. I only wished to save them inconvenience begging your pardon for preferring to put it upon you. I would have LCS ANGELES, -:- CAL. MISS JEWELL AT DUNCAN GUTHRIE'S. 53 asked Cousin William to call for me, but he was busy looking over the girls' compositions. Then I knew, at least I decided, that you had no very troublesome in- cumbrances on hand, since it was only last night that you were at the Macfarlanes." Then she slightly shook his arm and laughed merrily. " How did you know that ? " " Charlotte came to see me this morning and men tioned that as one of the incidents in recent village his tory." " Aye ? You know, Miss Jewell, that you may al ways command my service, the same as if I were your brother." " Oh, that dash, Mr. Tolly ! " Then they both laughed heartily, and Tolly said : " If Guthrie suspected that I had ambition to be any nearer than that, and besides had any even remote chance of succsss, he would have looked longer than momentarily dark at my unexpected entrance to-night." "What do you mean by that? You are a goose, Tom Tolly, as the men folks call you." " But even a goose may be of value sometimes be sides the humble uses which are generally made of him. Recall, if you please, the happy consequence of his cackling in the Roman citadel." He looked smiling toward her, as if this bit of pedantry was meant for mere pleasant badinage. She so understood it, but presently said : " Do you know, Mr. Tolly, that lately, and until I received an invitation to sup there to-night, I have had an idea that Mrs. Guthrie disliked me ? Why, that night at our house, when I was doing my best to entertain 54r WIDOW GUTHRIE. her, she kept herself as cool as a cucumber, as you peo ple say. I do think you all have some of the funniest phrases ! I never did anything to her that she should be a cucumber to me. But I concluded that perhaps she was not quite well. Indeed, Charlotte told me afterward that she was not. To-night she was as cor dial as could be. She'd be weak to let herself be fret ted by her husband's attentions to other women." " I am confident that she does not, in general ; though perhaps sometimes she may think that they're more pointed than those of a married man should be." " Well, well ! You know, Mr. Tolly, that that's one objection I have to country society ? It is so in New England, and, if anything, more so here. Married peo ple are expected to be always on their p*s and q*s with unmarried. If I ever get married, I am going to let my husband know from the start that I don't consider him the only interesting man in the w r orld or among my ac quaintance, and that I expect to admire other men that are to be admired, just as I do now, and that I shall be rather tired of him if he does not feel the same about other women, instead of tagging on to me all the time as if he were afraid of both of us otherwise going to destruction. Now, the truth is I wanted to w T altz with Mr. Guthrie that night; because there's little enjoy ment in waltzing without a woman has a man to sup port her. But Cousin William must shake his head, though he acknowledged afterward that he didn't think there was a particle of harm in it, but that some of his patrons might not have liked it, as I was one of the teachers, and he added that he doubted if Mrs. Guthrie would. I had just to laugh about that, and I believe, MISS JEWELL AT DUNCAN GUTHRIE'S. 55 crom lier treatment of me to-night, that Cousin "William was mistaken, and that she acted so only because she was not quite well. For surely the woman has more sense than to be fretted by such a trifling matter." " I was glad you rejected Guthrie's proposal to waltz." "Why so? Because the sight of us might have made you sorry that you couldn't have similar fun with Charlotte ? She's a beautiful waltzer." She tapped his arm with her fan. " Oh, no ; first, I've never learned to waltz ; but if I had, I rather think I should never ask a woman in this society, as it has become now, to join me in that amusement, especially before the faces of elderly per sons, who, I would be sure, would rather that it were not done. About such things Guthrie is defiant and audacious. lie knew that he ought not to have pro posed to you to waltz with him at least on that occa sion, for your sake, if no other's ; because here you are comparatively a stranger." " I hope I know how to take care of myself, Mr. Tolly. Now, I'll just say this, that I think all such as that is nonsensical despotism, and I don't propose to submit to it any more than I'm obliged to. Why, it is too ridiculous." She laughed outright, and thus pro ceeded : " I suppose if it becomes known in this burgh that I asked you to come for me to-night, it will ruin me. But, then, I can deny it, you know. You're a sort of Puritan, yourself, young man, a species of the animal creation that I did not expect to find in this warm, sweet latitude. To tell you the truth, that's the only objection I'd have to you if you were a richer and 56 WIDOW GUTHRIE. more distinguished man. You seem so moral and good that I'm almost afraid 1 you are deceitful." Then she laughed aloud. " Oh, law me ! " she continued, " how imprudent I am in running on thus with a young man on the street at this time of night ! But I told Char lotte that very thing about you, not that you were de ceitful, but that you were too good ; and I told her so because I knew you were in love with her. But I didn't tell her that. You want to know the reason why ? Be cause I didn't think it was just the thing for her to know certainly that you did love her. I'm talking to you as if we were confidants, as I'm sure we will be some day, unless I should get to be too bad or you too good, both which extremes, in my opinion, people ought to avoid. You are right in not courting Charlotte yet. She likes you better than she thinks she does. But you've got to do something much greater than you have done yet before you can be bold to advantage in that suit. The Macfarlanes, however, I think, could be won out of any prejudices they may have sooner than the Guthries; but that's because mainly of your profes sional rivalry to Mr. Duncan. I mean to see if I can't do something with him in your interest." " My dear Miss Jewell, I'd much rather you would not." Again she laughed aloud. " I knew you'd say that ; at least I thought so, and I talked so to try you. Still, if I should get to knowing Mr. Guthrie better, and I don't see why I should not, I mean at least to hint to him that a man as prosperous in every way as he is ought to feel that he could ' tote far,' as the negroes here say, with others who are not so fortunately settled. Do you know, my fair youth. MISS JEWELL AT DUNCAN GUTHRIE'S. 57 that but for one tiling, poor as I am, and poor as they say you are, I might have set cap for you myself ? " "And what barrier so dire got between me and such consummate felicity ? " " Oh, la ! I doubt if even Mr. Guthrie could have made such a gallant speech. "Well, sir, one reason is, that I'm not yet in the humor to be tied to one who, in spite of what I can do or say, I suppose must be my head. Then, I think, I can do better." She shook his arm in the exuberance of the gayety of this last reason. " The last is sufficient," said Tolly humbly. " You ought to do better, Miss Jewell, a great deal better. I suppose you have already such a one in your mind." " Well no ; not exactly. What I want now mostly is, not a beau, that is, a lover and, if I did, Charlotte has got ahead of me ; bu,t I want a a sort of cousin. Won't you be a poor Yankee girl's cousin ? You un derstand ? No ? Well, well, you will in time. I want a fellow that I can call cousin and talk with confiden tially and and do you know a lawyer in Augusta named Bond ? " " Christopher Bond ? " " Yes, a good pious name, isn't it ? " "I've seen him at Columbia County Court once. They say he is quite promising. What about him ? " " Oh, nothing much. It has occurred to me several times to ask if you knew him. He's a good friend of Mr. Dunbar and my sister. She wrote me that he might come to your spring court, as Mr. Dunbar has a little business here. If he does, you must be good to him, for her sake and mine, my very dear cousin. Hear?" 58 WIDOW GUTHRIE. " I hear, and will attend to the gentleman as well as I know how, for all sakes." " That's a good cousin. La La ! Here we are home ! Let me see. Yes ; you've brought securely my ilowers and me. Good-night ; don't get into any mis chief on the way home." Then she ran up the steps. Tolly debated with himself that night whether he ought not to have given her more distinct warning, particularly regarding Guthrie. He believed her en tirely honorable, and so did the whole community, strict as was the common law of its society, and her accomplishments, with her faithful, laborious attention to her school engagements, had made her very popular. Yet some of the more elderly ladies occasionally had expressed the wish that Miss Jewell, being a new comer and a teacher, would not be quite so free in young men's society, for the sake of example to the school girls, you know, mistress so-and-so, or sister so-and-so. So Tolly debated, but to the time of going to sleep, he had not quite decided. The next morning, Guthrie, while passing him on the street, lingered to say : "You cut me out last night, Tolly. Isn't she a splendid, voluptuous looking creature ? " " Voluptuous, Mr. Guthrie ? " " Oh, I don't mean anything bad." Then he went on his way. "You do mean bad," muttered Tolly, and after ward he wished that he had gone at once to Miss Jewell and given her warning. CHRISTOPHER BOND. 59 CHAPTER VII. CHRISTOPHER BOND. ON Greene Street, in the city of Augusta, near the intersection of Mclntosh, was a large brick mansion in which dwelt the Dunbars. George Dunbar, six years back a student at Harvard University, had left that seat of learning without taking a degree, having made up his mind to follow the business of his lately deceased father, a hardware merchant. But this was not done until after he had contracted with Miss Jewell, an older sister of Sarah, for a marriage which came off a year afterward. He became heir (besides the business) to this house and another three miles out of town on the Sand Hills, by some called Summer- ville. It was while on a visit to her sister that Sarah had been prevailed upon by Mr. Wendell to be one of his assistants. During her sojourn of several months, among other acquaintances made by her, was that of Christopher Bond, a young lawyer who had moved there from the county of Jefferson and was believed to be making his way in the profession with some rapid ity. Very tall, slender, dark complexioned, his deport ment in society effected, perhaps, an earlier favorable impression because of a sort of gravity which, while it kept him from making much merriment, did not hinder a quiet enjoyment of it when 1 made by others. Too devoted to study to have very much to do with soci ety, yet he visited sufficiently often, particularly at the Dunbars, with whom he had been on terms of rather 60 . WIDOW GUTHRIE. intimate friendship before the coming of their sister. Between her and himself grew relations more cordial perhaps because of the difference of their tempera ments. The heartiest laughs he could give were at the sallies of her vivacious humor, sometimes when made at his own expense, as when she merrily criticised an awkwardness for which he seemed not to care, yet was often promising to amend ; but when he was in serious mood, to no other man's conversation did she listen with more pleased attention. People used to jest with her about the impression which seemed to be made upon her by a character so different from her own, whose chief interest came from subjects pertaining to the bar or others as serious ; but she answered lightly, as if no two persons were more likely to keep apart than Bond and herself. In those times lawyers at Augusta habitually at tended court sessions in the county towns of that judi cial district, and occasionally one or two on the eastern border of the northern, in one of which Clarke was the county seat. It used to be an interesting sight, the judge with a dozen or so of his bar, traveling, every one in his sulky, from court to court. Some of as good things as a man fond of humor would wish to hear were uttered along the highway, in tones loud enough to be heard all along the line, followed by laughter that was eqjioed far on either side. Many a pious country-woman, knitting or sewing on the porch of her cottage, looking and listening to the cavalcade, would reflect what an ungodly set they must all be, from the judge down. Bond, with intent to extend his acquaintance and CHRISTOPHER BOND. 61 with hope to better his practice, was beginning to at tend a few of these courts, and he was well pleased when employed in one which, but for Miss Jewell being there, was not of importance enough to warrant the expense of going to Clarke. Except during Christmas-tide, court week was the gayest of all in the year ; but of the parties at this March term Mrs. Outline's was most notable. She not often gave one, but when she did it lacked nothing to make it successful. Guests always put on the best they had when going to a party at her house. Ladies wore what we see in portraits of those times, so strange looking now, then thought to be so becoming gowns with short waists, bouffant sleeves, and a modest train, silk stockings, satin slippers fastened with ribbons crossing the ankles and upward, hair, except two or three ringlets on either temple, wound in a lofty knot behind and fastened with elaborate combs of tortoise- shell. The men were in blue dress-coats with brass but tons, buff vest and trousers, and high white satin neck stocks. They wore also silk stockings and slippers. Mrs. Guthrie shone in a long gray silk gown that seemed more becoming and interesting for being of a fashion of a quarter of a century past that was both more elab orate and more expensive than any of that time. The numerous syllabub stands, some three feet high, holding near a hundred tumblers, with curiously cut paper hang ings on the circumferences of the several stories, helped to set off tables heavy laden with viands. The gracious- ness of her manners and her taste in everything were subjects of general comment. She accepted congratu lations of parting guests with mild satisfaction, as if it 62 WIDOW GUTHRIE. had cost little trouble to cater to people's tastes and en joyments whenever she felt like it. In accordance with his promise, Tolly was particu larly polite to Bond, and he was well pleased when Guthrie, after several essays to get Miss Jewell into a corner for a special chat, failed, because she was intent on putting her friend at ease and helping him to make acquaintances. At the tavern, late that night, Seaborn Torrance, a lawyer from the county next below, said to Tolly : "Tom, the old lady Guthrie isn't she royal? I declare she looked as queenly as old Elizabeth in her silks and flounces and laces, and I don't know what. I told Guthrie I couldn't go there to-night, not having with me any party clothes, which I always despise to put on anyhow, especially pumps. They made a mis take when they threw away fair-top boots and came down to pumps. I'll swear they make me feel as if I was barefooted. However, Guthrie told me that his mother said I had to go, if she had to send a special deputation to take me in her carriage. So I went, and I was glad of it. She impressed me deeply. Why, sir, that woman has sense like a man ; and, don't you know ? She told me that if she ever should have a law case of importance she would want me, and her big fiery eyes showed that she was in earnest. Sensible woman, isn't she ? Ah ! ha ! And that's a blamed fine - looking woman, that Boston schoolmistress. Guthrie, a rogue, tried to get her to himself, and looked at her as if he'd like to eat her up. He'd better mind ; married man, and with such an elegant wife. I'm not sure that she wasn't the most interesting-looking woman there, of course ex- CHRISTOPHER BOND. 63 cepting the hostess. She oh, mj Lord ! she was head and shoulders above them all. I think she knew it, too, but didn't think it worth while to be proud of it." Bond's case was not tried, yet he lingered several days after adjournment of the court with prospect of a settlement, which was effected through Tolly. In this while these two formed somewhat of a friendship. The night before Bond was to leave, he said : " I like this village, Tolly, and am glad that business, unimportant as it was, brought me here. There's quite a city-like air about it. I have met several, men as well as women, who in what people call society are as aufait as any in Augusta. My ! what the collecting of four or five families with good manners and taste can make of even a small village ! What a fine woman is Miss Macfarlane ! But it is easy to see that you found that out long ago. So has young Jamison ; but I, who am a poor judge of such things, thought that I could see that she didn't take much interest in his small talk. I suspect he's been running too mainly on his father's success to be much anywhere. Yes, she's a fine young woman, isn't she ? " " Yes, indeed ; it takes only a brief acquaintance to find out that. And Miss Jewell ; what do you say to her?" " Oh, she and I have been acquainted for some time, you know. Her sister, Mrs. Dunbar, and her husband are about the closest friends I have in Augusta. They wanted Miss Jewell to live with them, her parents being both dead, and Dunbar has plenty of money besides a good business. But she said she meant to maintain herself, and so she accepted her cousin's offer to take Q WIDOW GUTHR1E. a place in his school. A girl full of life good-looking, too, isn't she? and I don't know a brighter. She's going to spend her summer vacation with the Dunbars on the Sand Hills. She likes you, she says, first rate, and says she calls you ' cousin.' I suppose Miss Mac f arlane can console you for the temporary absence of such an interesting relative, eh ? " " If anybody could, it would be she, provided she'd be kind enough to undertake it." " I thought so, By the way, I was particularly im pressed by Mrs. Guthrie, young Mrs. Guthrie. The elder is a striking woman herself, vast and magisterial ; but her daughter-in-law struck me as a woman filled with the best sorts of character, and I'm not sure but that she was as good looking as any .at the party. I was glad to make her acquaintance. The elder Jami son did me that service. Guthrie, so it seemed, didn't care to do it himself, at which piece of neglect, as in part he was host, I was rather surprised. Between us, I'm inclined to suspect that Guthrie forms his manners more with reference to women than men. It's a mis take to do that, I think. A man who is fair and court eous with other men can get along well enough when he gets to where women are. Of all your bar he has been least cordial in extending welcome to me, and I noticed that he showed some fretfulness whenever the court made a ruling against him. But with women, particularly Miss Jewell, he's as mannerish as a French man. I had a good time with his wife. She's devoted to him ; I could see that from the way her eyes followed him. She's a serious woman, I take it. She smiled only once while I was talking with her, and, bless me, CHRISTOPHER BOND. 65 how it did light her up ! May be my small talk wasn't of the proper sort. It's deuced inconvenient to a fel low, isn't it, not to have at command lit words for every body he meets in a promiscuous company ? Sometimes I almost envy such a man as Guthrie that is, in that particular. However, such as that is only for a mo ment. When a fellow means well and does the best he can he ought to try to be reconciled to himself. Eh, Tolly?" " That's my hand, Bond, the only one I've got." " I'm told Guthrie is rich. He dresses, looks, and behaves like a man that had money. He has talent enough to make a capital lawyer if he'd study his cases better. I suppose he practices mainly to keep himself before the public." " That's about his case. Yes, Guthrie is rich ; born so, married a rich man's daughter, and, unless some thing is done to hinder, is destined to get all, or nearly all, of the estate left by his father, to the exclusion of his sister." " "Was she at the party that night ? " " ~No ; she does not go out now, and, even if she did, I hardly think she would have been there ; I know her husband would not, and I rather suspect that the mother gave her party at this particular time because of her knowing that people would not expect to meet the rest of the family." " Aye ? What's the matter with the son-in-law ? " ' " Nothing, except that he had no fortune, and his family can't run back to the very oldest bloods of Yir- ginia, that is, not that they know of. But he's a prince of a man himself. Yes, Bond, between ourselves, Guth- 66 WIDOW GUTHRIE. rie is as selfish as a bull terrier, to whom, not inaptly, Mr. Torrance compared him that night after the party while speaking of him in another attitude. He can't help being proud of that wife of his, whom I regard, if not the very finest woman I know, the equal of any. But she's not enough for him, and I'm inclined to sus pect that already she has been suffering somewhat from his attentions to other women." " Miss Jewell tells me she likes him very much. I don't think she understands him well. I believe I'll no, people know best how to take care of themselves." These words were said rather gravely. He turned away from the subject, and said : " But, Tolly, how is it that Guthrie is to get the lion's share of his father's estate? Did the old man leave it all to him and his mother ? " Tolly related what he had heard and what he had been told of the Guthrie history, and then said : " Bond, would you regard as entirely on the line of professional duty to give information to a man who had not made himself a client touching rights which, if not for his own, for his family's sake, he ought to enforce ? " "If the man was a friend, I should say, emphati cally, yes. Even if he were not, I should rather regard it as a lawyer's duty to see that such information got to him in some way." " He is a friend, and a dear one. lie is the hus band of Guthrie's sister." " Then I should not hesitate." " He already knows the facts as well as I do, but, of of course, not all the legal principles on which redress might depend. The difficulty is that he's rather indif- A PICNIC. 67 ferent, and both he and his wife are averse to bring ing family matters before the public. Lately, a friend whom he loves very much came to see me about the case, and since then has been plying him more earnestly to do something. If a suit is to be instituted, I've no doubt it will be represented by me. In that event, if you say so, I will join you with me." "Thanky; you're as good as you can be, Tolly. But, my dear fellow, how would that affect the Macfar- lane business ? " " Oh, every case must depend upon itself." The next morning Bond left, making a brief part ing call on Miss Jewell on his way. " You'll be coining back again before long, you say, Mr. Bond?" " Most probably. Tolly has a good case in prospect and wants me to join him. He's a cousin of yours, he also tells me." "Oh, but isn't he? Well, by-by. My dear love to sister and Mr. Dunbar." CHAPTER YIIL A PICNIC. ON a Saturday early in May there was a picnic in Mrs. Guthrie's woods adjoining her residence on the east and south. This was an institution of Miss Jewell, nothing but fishing, chincapin-hunting, and like parties among the young of both sexes being known thereto- 68 WIDOW GUTHRIE. fore. In these woods of a hundred acres and more was abundant growth of oak, hickory, poplar, intermixed with dogwood, maple, crab apple, etc. Here among people were fond of strolling, and they did so without remonstrance from the owner, except in the case of boys with shot-guns, whom, if she could not always turn away, she reminded in threatening words of the law ; and so a few gray and flying squirrels and a good ly number of birds not fit for the frying-pan nor the griddle had their habitations there. Through Guthrie permission to hold the festival was obtained. It was a most fair day. Boys had gone early among the deeper woods beyond to gather yellow jessamines, bubby blos soms, and other wild things, and had them ready to dis tribute among the girls and young women to weave and to wear in nosegays and garlands. Baskets with good things were sent by every family, and, although this had not been foreseen, a floor of unplaned boards had been laid on a level not far from the spring branch, where Andy Nicol, a well-known fiddler, early in the afternoon made his appearance. " I didn't expect this, Mr. Guthrie," said Miss Jew ell. "Will it be all right?" " Oh, yes. I mentioned to several that I was going to get up a little dance, and nobody said anything against it." Whether so appointed or not, he made himself leader in sports and exercises. These, besides dancing, were walks beneath the trees on the rising grounds and along the bank of the little stream in the bottom, games among the younger lads and girls, and occasional duets and singings in chorus. Alice was there and looked A PICNIC. 69 cheerful, showing or trying to show that she took pleas ure in everything. "There, Mrs. Outline," Miss Jewell said about noon, " is the best I can do in return for the sweet flow ers you gave me the evening I was at your house." Then she handed her a wreath which she had woven of jessamines. "Beautiful!" said Alice, "and I thank you cor dially." They could not prevail upon her to dance. She said that Charlotte and Miss Jewell must alternately take her place. Yet she looked on with interest and smiled at an occasional awkward figure made by one of the men. Tolly was not a practiced dancer, but he knew the fig ures and acquitted himself to the apparent satisfaction of his partners. Guthrie looked as if he felt that he was throwing away his agility on an arena so small. Yet he took out Miss Jewell as often as he could, and it was very interesting to note their perfect harmony of move ment. She smiled at his whisperings, and occasionally, when she came within view of Alice, nodded to her. Toward evening Peterson Braddy appeared, having come on Tolly's invitation. He would not have put foot there if he had known that Guthrie had had any thing to do in getting up the party. Fond of dancing, yet he did not indulge until bantered by several of the younger girls. Always avowing the wish to marry, but known among his friends to have no sort of notion of the kind, on such occasions he was a beau devoted to any belle near whom he happened to be. Tolly made him acquainted with Miss Jewell, and she professed to be delighted with the gallant things he said to her. He 70 WIDOW GUTHRIE. had no doubt that if he were to try, he could foot it equal to Guthrie or any other man that ever stepped into a ball-room ; but he seemed to feel that this was no occasion for the exercise of his best endeavors. The tips of his little partners' fingers he took between his thumb and forefinger, smiled in condescension to their level for their entertainment, and he just knew that it was inimitable when, instead of turning one of them at the word, he twirled her round like a top. " Just look at old Pete Braddy ! " said Guthrie to Miss Jewell ; " did anybody ever see such an awkward conceited old fool ? " They were seated upon the roots of a large white oak. Guthrie's back was toward his w r ife. He had been, with much apparent earnestness, saying several things which Miss Jewell, intent upon the cotillon did not seem to be hearing, and she was not aware that Alice was looking intently at both. At the last words of Guthrie she turned her face to him and said : "Don't you speak in such terms of Mr. Braddy. He's a dear friend of Cousin Tom Tolly." " Your Cousin Tom Tolly?" "Yes, didn't you know I had taken him for my cousin ? " " No, indeed ; but I am glad to hear it, because " u Because what ? " He bent closer toward her and whispered a few words. " Do you" Leaving the question unasked, reddening to her tem ples, she looked at Alice and noticed that the latter's eyes were intently fixed upon her. She rose and com- A PICNIC. 71 menced to advance toward her. Alice, who had been talking with Alfred Jamison, rising, said : " I feel chilly. Will you see me to my carriage, Mr. Jamison, as I don't like to interrupt Mr. Guthrie ? " Leaving upon the bench the wreath that Miss Jewell had given her, she took Alfred's arm and walked away. A moment after, Guthrie, suddenly become pale, hur ried after, reaching her as she was entering the carriage. "Why, Alice, my dear child, what is the matter? Thank you, Alfred. Drive on home Marcus," he said to the coachman as he entered and took the seat by her. Miss Jewell looked for a few seconds in that di rection, then turned. Tolly had been called away by a client a few minutes before. Calling to Peterson Braddy, she said aloud : "Mr. Braddy, you haven't asked me to dance a single set. I'm surprised at you. Mr. Tolly told me you were one of the gallantest of mankind." " Madam ! Why, by the why, madam, it was be cause I thought you wouldn't want to dance with an old rusty country blade like me. Will you be my partner for the next quitilion, madam ? " "No, thank you, I'm tired. Girls, I think we'll break up now. Get up your things." While they were busy with this order, she said to him playfully, although her face and the tremble of her words indicated excitement : " Mr. Braddy, I wish I was a man, and could be as brave as you are. Would you fight for me if I were to need it and ask you ? " " Madam, by blood and the eternal which is the )iggest oath I ever swears by I would." 72 WIDOW GUTHRIE. u Right or wrong ? " " Right or wrong." Then she laughed again, almost hysterically. After a moment of uncertain pause, she said : " Oh, I was joking, Mr. Braddy. You are not to re peat a word of what I said to you, not even, and espe cially not to our friend Mr. Tolly ; hear ? " " I hear, madam, and to hear is to obey. May my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth " " Oh, that is more than enough," and having seen that her girls were all ready, she bade him good-by and went her way. When Duncan entered the carriage he felt a trepi dation greater than any in his whole experience, and he never had had more pressing use of all of his gifts. " My dearest Alice, what in this world is the matter 2 " " I am sick," she answered coldly. "Sick? From what?" " Sick at heart, from the sight of perfidy ! " " I knew it as soon as I saw you moving toward the carriage. I arn glad to know that it is only that, and that I can relieve you in half a dozen words." Then he laughed a laugh as artful as it was audacious. She looked at him mournfully and compassionately. " Alice " he said, withdrawing himself a little apart as if there were things owed to himself as well as to her, " I determined, for my own sake as well as yours, but particularly for Miss Jewell's, that I would this day test the character of the feeling she had for me. I have done so, and I have just now found that it is different from what I had supposed. So different that I have determined to withdraw from her society altogether." A PICNIC. 73 It is not strange that the innocent are credulous to the denials of those whom they love. She turned and looked into his eyes that, clear as the cloudless heavens, let themselves be searched. A moment more and she was sobbing upon his breast, while he laughed the laugh of a physician who instantaneously had remedied what seemed a fatal malady. " O Duncan Duncan ! " she said, when she could lift her head " forgive me for a weakness which the love I have for you has made so uncontrollable. If I could believe that Miss Jewell was a woman with inordi nate feeling for men, because they are men, and that you had been tempted by the knowledge of it and the sight of it, I think I "could have borne. I know I would have tried to ignore what sometimes comes almost irresistibly in the way of a man who in other respects may be all that a wife would have him to be. God knows that that is hard enough. Or, if I believed that the poor woman's affections had become inevitably en tangled, a thing I could understand, knowing you as I do, I could compassionate her as a sufferer for what surely is the keenest, because most irremediable and most humiliating of griefs. But, Duncan, to me Miss Jewell to-day did not look like a bad or even a weak person. That is, never until just now, when she rose from the foot of that tree and looked at me and began to approach. Then some powerful passion seemed raging in her breast. It looked as if it was fright at being detected, and I decided to retreat from her. I can now understand that expression from what you tell me, which, my husband" then she looked him again in the eyes " I believe because you tell me of it. Char- 71 WIDOW GUTHRIE. lotte Macfarlane has talked with me much about Miss Jewell, and Charlotte has said often that, though an im pulsive woman, she believes her to be as innocent as any. Would you know, then, what has been with me the source of the most painful feelings I have had about her ? Not jealousy, Duncan ! " She paused a moment and uttered a low laugh in the mild scorn that the utterance of the poor word had raised in her heart. " No, I could no more indulge that feeling than I could have distrust in the Creator ! If I were to feel that I had not the entire confidence of you to whom I have given myself and all of mine, I should conclude that you had nothing to give back or that I was not worth the giving. But I never should go out of my own experience to invent or to imagine any other cause, and I would try to live, until the time came for me to die, upon whatever nourishment could be got from my own poor resources. I hope you under stand me, Duncan, and that you mark well what in my thoughts of this woman has given me most anxiety. It is, or it was the apprehension that, seeing her so fair to look upon, so gifted with all goodly gifts, you, attractive like her, instead of avoiding the temptings which you led her to extend if she did extend them, and the good God knows that I don't accuse her you were meeting them, forgetful, not so much of what was due to me, as of what was due from every man to young womanhood, especially when separated from its natural protectors. My action at the Wendell party was mainly to warn her, and some of it this after noon was to make that warning so pronounced that repetition of her imprudence would seem to herself A NEW-COMER ON LITTLE E1VER. 75 impossible without disgrace. I was acting less in my own behalf, much as 1 felt that I needed some defense, than for her safety and my husband's honor." " No, my dear Alice," he said, with a show of mild ness which the simplest innocence could not have im proved, " I was pleased with the woman's society, as any man of taste must be, and I confess that I had not enough objection to meeting her half-way in a little flirtation that would do no harm to me certainly, nor, as I could see, to her. When I found I was mistaken, and that her interest in me was of a kind dangerous to her reputation, I decided to do as I have told you." She believed what he said, for she was one who, as she must give all or none r must accept or reject__all. but neither she nor her husband it to be a sigh of distrust. Yot each felt that as much had been put upon her as she could endure. CHAPTER IX. A NEW-COMER ON LITTLE RIVEK. THE next morning John Stapleton rode into the village, and going into Tolly's office, after the usual salutations, reported, in the tone of one telling of mod erately interesting news, that a daughter had been born at his house three days before, and that he had come to town mainly to report to the doctor the condition of mother and child, which, he was glad to say, was as fair as could be desired. He was a good specimen of 76 WIDOW GUTHRIE. manlj strength and beauty. Over six feet in height, straight, muscular, with complexion somewhat this side of fair, easy, unstudied in manners, modest but satis fied looking, he was one to be noted in any crowd of men. " Ah ha ! congratulate you. That sets you two, Jack, eh?" " Yes, sir ; a brace : doing pretty well for a little over three years, isn't it, Tom ? " " It is, indeed. I like to hear of that sort of stock multiplying. The way you've started out, you'll have to stir your stumps to raise and educate and settle aright." " Oh, yes ; but there's plenty of time. I called in to tell you that Caroline wants Alice to know about it. I didn't see Duncan on the street, and I don't care about going to his office just for that. Won't you try to see the fellow some time to-day and let him know ? And if you can't, get the interesting news to Alice in some way ? That's a good boy." " Certainly, Jack, I shall be delighted, proud indeed to hand about generally, and specially to Mrs. Duncan Guthrie, information so important. Aren't you going to send word to the old lady Guthrie ? " " I think not ; she'll hear of it in satisfactory time, I guess. She doesn't have a great fancy for my stock, you know, and Duncan thinks he must follow her suit, although he has sense to not bother with me. Alice, bless her heart, is made out of pure gold. By the way, Tom, I hear some talk about Duncan and that Miss Jewell. Peter says that people tell him Duncan on the street is everlastingly talking about what a mag- A NEW-COMER ON LITTLE RIVER. 77 nificent piece of furniture slie is that's the way Pete puts it ; and he says that they say he pays her more attention than looks well in a married man." " Oh, you know how some people will talk, Jack. Guthrie may have been a little too pointed, as you know he is generally with fine-looking women ; but it amounts to little." " Well, it's no business of mine. I must go. Thanky, Tom. Good-by." He went out, and as he was remounting his horse, " Hello, Jack ! " called Guthrie, who was standing on a sidewalk some rods away. " Hello ! " he answered and rode away. The sun had just set. Alice was in her flower gar den that lay aside from the great oaks in front of the mansion. She was clad in a light-muslin gown, whose loose flowing sleeves were folded back upon her fore arms to allow facile use of the pot with which she was watering. Upon her face there was, perhaps, some deeper shade of habitual seriousness, but this was lift ing as she moved among her flowers. Occasionally she lingered before a bush and, plucking one of its blossoms, looked at it affectionately for a while, then putting it to her nostrils, closed her eyes. These and her piano had become companions more dear than during the period of maidenhood. The greater the disappointment in failing to hold as fast as she had expected the one great love of her being the more fondly she allied herself to these. To a woman of virtue, sensibility, and culture, these are resources of priceless value. Alas for the wife who, when she can not, or when she believes that she can not hold her husband to the marital obligations 78 WIDOW GUTHRIE. that are her dearest, has not learned to love music and flowers ! Even if she have consolations of assured re ligious faith, there come seasons of dryness in the life of even the most devout, which next to prayer, wrest ling prayer, there is nothing like music and flowers to comfort. Indeed, a sensitive, devout soul that suffers feels that these are the most fit accompaniments to the beseechings of an overflowing heart. When I was a little child, the sweet smells and the singing on Sun days in our country meetirig-heuse were felt by me to be as religious and worshipful as anything that came down from the lofty pulpit. Alice looked so beautiful and pure that her husband on approaching, stopped and watched her as she stood in one of the walks contemplating a white rose that she had just plucked; she kissed it several times, then placing a hand upon her eyes, stood there for several moments. Guthrie waited for her to move ; then advancing, he called out: " Good evening ! I was just thinking how uncom monly pretty and sweet you are looking, Alice." Startled somewhat, yet she smiled, and when he came up and took her in his arms, she looked up into his face, and he understood some, not all, of the longing that was in her heart. She was in that state wherein, along with confidence again restored after another vio lent assault, is a drop of indefinable apprehension. It is more hazardous than some suspect to trifle with the love and trustfulness of the meek. I have often thought of those words in Revelations about hiding from the wrath of the Lamb. Punishment from such a source, when it comes at last, after long trials and A NEW-COMER ON LITTLE RIVER. ?9 numberless entreaties to beware of its coining, seems more terrific than the swift sword of vengeance. It is terrible when the face of the injured is turned away and the injurer is left to himself. He had been home for an hour. They were chat ting on the piazza when he said : " O Alice ! I forgot a bit of news I have for you. You looked so lovely there in the garden that you put it out of my mind when it was on my tongue to tell you. Caroline has a girl baby ! " " Is that so ? " she answered quickly. " I didn't know they were expecting it quite so soon. How is she ? When was the child born ? How did you hear it ? " " Tolly told me, and he said that Stapleton informed him of it. I saw Jack as he was about to mount his horse to return. We merely exchanged salutations, as he appeared to be in a hurry." " And he said nothing to you about it, dear? " " No ; but Tolly said that Jack asked him to send the news to you." " Does mother know it ? " " I can't say. I guess not, though, as Jack never goes there, you know. No, I don't think mother can have heard it." " When was the child born, did you say ? " " Three days ago, Tolly said." " Three days ago ! I wonder Caroline didn't send word sooner. I told her that I would go down when, it happened for a day or so. If you're willing, I'll drive down there to-morrow and spend the night." " Why, of course, my dear, though I shall be very lonesome without you. However, I can spend the even- 80 WIDOW QUTHRIE. ing with mother, unless she goes with you, which I hard ly expect she'll do." The next morning, soon after breakfast, Alice took the carriage and drove first to Mrs. Outline's. The lat ter, always professing to be glad to see her, exclaimed : " Why, good morning, my child. I see you came in the carriage ; don't you feel quite well ? You haven't been looking quite as bright as I want to see you." " I'm as well as usual, mother. How are you ? You always look well." " Do I ? I'm glad to hear you say so. Isn't it a pity that people, especially those who have a plenty to live on and enjoy themselves, and help others to do the same when they deserve it that they have to get old, and can't get as much sleep of nights as they'd like, and have to be troubled thinking how short life is and other things that they didn't use to bother their minds about ? You Judy, come here and get your Miss Alice's bonnet." " Howdye, Judy," Alice said to the negro girl who had come in. " No, mother, I'm on my way to Sister Caroline's. Did you know she had another baby ? " "No, I didn't," was the cold answer. "I didn't know it had come. When was it, and how did you hear it?" "Mr. Stapleton was in town yesterday, and sent word that it was born three days before." " Whom did he send word by ? " "Mr. Tolly told Duncan that he had been so re quested by him. I believe he came merely to report to Dr. Poythress, and returned almost immediately." "More expense. Dr. Poythress is the highest charging doctor in town, and that's one reason that he A NEW-COMER ON LITTLE RIVER. 81 has the biggest practice of them all. It's just the way people are about lawyers and doctors the higher they charge the more people think they're worth. In my time women never thought of sending for doctors at such times, rich or poor. But Caroline always was proud, except when she came to get married, which, of all times to l)e proud, is the main one. How did he say -L t/ they both were ? " " Very well, very well, indeed." " No, child, I hadn't heard a word of it, though, of course, I'm not surprised. I never asked Caroline any thing about it, and she never opened her mouth to me. Poor child! she knew that- the prospect of adding an other to John Stapleton's stock wouldn't be such an interesting piece of news as to make me get up and go to dancing around out of pure joy." "You don't feel like going with me, mother?" asked Alice, suppressing as well as she could the pain she felt at these words. ' Well, no, my dear, not to-day. I'm not right well, though you tell me I look it, and am glad to hear it. And then I've got a heap of business to lay off and see that it's attended to. You know how negroes are when you ain't right behind 'em all the time. If Caroline was real sick, I'd go to her, of course. She knows that ; and she knows that no matter how little respect she's always had for my wishes yet I can't but have the feel ings of a mother, as I suppose there's few women that have children that don't." "Why, my dear mother," Alice ventured to say, ' Sister Caroline, I am sure, both respects and loves you very much, and would do whatever she could for 6 82 WIDOW GUTHRIE. your happiness that she would believe consistent with her other duties." " I know Caroline Stapleton, Alice," the red upon her face growing a trifle more fiery. " I know her better than you do or anybody else does. From a child she was of the kind that she is now that she always would have her own opinions. I never was able to give her one single jostle about that John Staple- ton, that he wasn't worth two thousand dollars to his name ; and he acted like he didn't care whether he was worth even that much or not, except to dress as well- mighty nigh as well as Duncan Guthrie and keep his dogs and hounds. And Caroline, marry him she would, spite of my telling her if she did the back of my hand to them both as to any property they'd get from me, though I let myself be overpersuaded by Dennis Mac- farlane to let them have a family of negroes ; and when their oldest child was born, and they named it after Mr. Guthrie, although that made me mad, still I offered to make over to Caroline another bunch of negroes and some money to add to their land. You think she'd take any of it ? Why, she told me to my face that she didn't want any property that didn't belong to her hus band. Dennis Macfarlane had to say that she was right ; but it was none of his business, and I hinted so to him ; and I made up my mind that I'd keep down my feel ings, and I'd be firm with Caroline Stapleton. But, law me ! I despise to have to talk about such a disagree able subject. You haven't told me, Alice, if it was a boy or girl." " It is a girl, mother." " A girl ! worse and worse ! I was in hopes that A NEW-COMER ON LITTLE RIVER. 83 it was going to be a boy, and till you said to the contrary I've been supposing, if I supposed anything about it, that it was a boy. Boys can stand roughings and poor living, and blaze their way through. That's what boys can do ; but girls are delicate, if they can only be kept so, and You're coming back to-night, Alice, I suppose, of course." " I rather think not, mother. Caroline may need me for some little service. Indeed, I'd like, and I think I ought, to spend two days and a night with her. Dun can says I may." " Well, do it, then. Just like Duncan. "When you come back you can fetch word how everything is. You may tell Caroline that, as she told me nothing about it, it was obliged to come on me unexpected, and specially a girl No, don't tell her quite that ; because I was not taken entirely by surprise, and I might have known it was going to be a girl, just from her bad luck ever since she married that man. But if she needs any thing that she knows she ought to have, and hasn't got it, and no way to get it, why, of course Oh, the feel ings, the feelings that a mother may feel like she ought to try to get out of her breast when she's badly treated and can't! You haven't had those feelings, Alice, and" " I think I'll go on, mother, as the morning is al ready quite advanced, and Sister Caroline will want a good dinner set for me, I've no doubt." " Yes, yes, oh, yes," she said rising. " But just one thing more. Did you hear anything about what they were talking about naming it ? Though of course I don't sup pose you did. One thing is certain. I want none of John 84 WIDOW GUTHRIE. Stapleton's stock to bear my name. Well, good-by, my child ; there's a plenty of trouble in this world any way you take it ; but it seems to me, at my age, some things are harder than / ought to be made to suffer, trying as I always have tried to do my duty. Duncan will come and spend the evening with me, of course ? " " He said he would do so, mother." "I knew he would. O Alice, you've got the ex ception of a husband, that was first good to his mother, like he always has been from a child. Good-by. Make Marcus drive careful over those awful roads." CHAPTER X. ALICE VISITS THE STAPLETONS. THE way to Stapleton's, though subject to some com plaint, was not as rough and perilous as, from Mrs. Guthrie's words, one might apprehend. It was not level and smooth as that over which she traveled at least once a week to her large plantation some miles west of the village, yet intent sufficiently attractive, as a visit to a daughter with a husband less objectionable than John Stapleton would have been, ought to have made her feel reasonably secure whenever she felt like mak ing the journey. Less than a third of the forests had been cut away, but owing to the noted fecundity of the soil and the healthf ulness of the climate, they were begin ning to disappear fast before the extending acquisitions of the older settlers and the frequent incoming of new. ALICE VISITS THE STAPLETONS. 85 Even upon the sides and very summits of the hills, wherever inclosed by fences, the reed-cane grew out of the blood-red ground not very far below the height reached in the rich alluvium in the bottoms between. Dense woods, fairer to see and sweeter to be among than could well be found in any other region, lay all along. Amid many other kinds of growth, large and small, Nature had produced just enough of short leaf pine for supplying its own peculiar needs in building and kindling. To another person than Alice Guthrie the fast growing cotton and corn and oats and the yel lowing wheat might have been most interesting. But she loved better the continuous sweet sounds and smells that came forth from the deep shades on the other side of the road she was traveling. Occasionally she bade Marcus, her black, sleek coachman, to let the horses slacken to a walk that she might linger a little while with some unwonted delicious thing that seemed as if it had come out of its thicket to gladden her senses and comfort her spirit. On a high level, half a mile from the hither bank of Little River, a hundred yards or so from the road, was the modest mansion that was sought on that fair morning. There were two large single-storied rooms with a wide passage between. In front was a piazza extending the whole length, to the ends of which two other rooms with piazzas had been joined, facing each other. At the rear of the passage were the dining- room and pantry. Flowers, except some cape jessa mines and vines that had been trained on a lattice be tween the posts of the piazza, found no place because of the oaks and hickories, but were in the large garden 86 WIDOW GUTHRIB. at some distance aside. The yard of four or five acres was fenced with poles of pine, known as old-field, from their coming up on the worn ground on which had stood the oak and its companions. This wood, light and spongy, differing from both the short-leaf and the long, yet when peeled of its bark and fastened with chestnut posts, made enduring and not unsightly fences. Along the front and a portion of the sides of the inclosure, the Cherokee rose grew in much profusion. Everywhere about were evidences of neatness and tastefulness, to which the economy observed in their appointments gave an added interest. Stapleton \vas sitting on the piazza near a win dow of the chamber behind him, looking backward occa sionally and telling to his wife "within how he was amused by their son Alan, astride of a large black-and- tan hound that lay stretched upon the sanded walk. Alan wanted to have a ride, and was seeking to enforce his commando by pulling at the dog's ears. The good beast would like to take a nap. He gave some whining growls meant for remonstrances, and once in a while raised his head and looked at his master as if to ascer tain if such interruption was ratified by him. Suddenly he rose upon his feet and gave a loud bark as of inquiry. Then Clarissy, a young negro woman who had just gone out to bring the child away, cried : " Law, Mars Jack ! yonder's a cayidge at de gate, en I do believe its Mars Duncan's. Yes, dat's Markis, sho', en dar I see Miss Alice lookin' out de winder ! Git up off dat nasty dog, boy, befo' yer Aunt Alice see you dar." Gathering him speedily, she bore him in. As she was passing her mistress's door, she cried : ALICE VISITS THE STAPLETONS. 87 " Law, Miss Calline ! I know you glad ; me, too come along here, mister mister lioun'-rider, and let me see if I can't git you in some sort o' fix for comp'ny. Which one o' his new frocks must I put on him, Miss Calline, his red streaked or his yaller striked." " You're a goose, Clarissy ! " said Mr. Stapleton in good-humored tone ; " go and wash his face and hands and comb his hair, and bring him back. I thought she'd come soon, Caroline." " I knew she would." The dapple grays came up trotting gayly. " Bless your heart for coming so promptly ! " said the host while assisting the visitor to alight. " Howdye, Mr. Stapleton ! " she said joyously. " I congratulate you. How are Caroline and the baby ? " " First rate, and will be the better for your coming. Run along in, and you and they have over the Oh heav ens part to yourselves while I attend to Marcus." It was at home that John Stapleton showed to best advantage. Manlike, with unstudied manners midway between entire ease and a degree of awkwardness that was rather pleasing than not, he was one to be loved by men and women, old and young, equal and dependent. " O Caroline, my dear sister ! " said Alice. She bent down and let the white round arms en circle her neck as she kissed the lips of the young second-time mother. In another corner of the chamber was a bed as nicely appointed, on which the husband was wont to lie. Upon the large round table was a vase of flowers, and two smaller upon the mantel. " Why, who did arrange those flowers ? " asked Alice. " Clarissy ? " 88 WIDOW GUTHRIE. " ]STo, dear," answered Mrs. Stapleton, pointing to her husband. " That old fellow did it." " Mister Stapleton ! " " Caroline told me how, Alice," he answered meekly. " I did no such thing, except in trailing that spray of jessamine. Why, he can arrange flowers almost as well as any woman, Alice." " Come, come, Caroline." " O Mr. Stapletol^, you needn't be ashamed of that one feminine accomplishment," said Alice. " Oh dear, no ; I'm delighted rather than ashamed when I can do anything that pleases Caroline's taste. I tried to remember how I had seen her handle them, and then I went to work." " That is the very highest motive by which you could have been inspired, sir ; and, thus inspired, I don't wonder at your doing perfectly." " Thanky-do, ma'am. And now let me say that, hop ing you've come to stay a day or two at least, I told Mar cus to not put the horses in the stable until I could know your intentions. Say yes, if it is possible, and I'll give directions for them to be turned into my river-bottom pasture, where they can get some good green pickings, which I'm sure they'd like, and which will do them good." " Yes, Caroline, I made up my mind to stay one night with you if you wanted me ; Duncan said I might. But bless us all ! where is the baby ? I've been here full ten minutes and haven't seen her nor Alan, nor heard a word about either." " Corae out from under that pile of cover, Miss Cal- ALICE VISITS THE STAPLETONS. 89 line," said the father, " and show yourself to the com pany." Laying the covering aside tenderly, he said : " Now, Mistress Guthrie, I leave you to contemplate the next greatest picture in the world while I go out and attend to your team." Upon another walnut table, covered by a cloth woven of homespun thread by a weaver of the neighborhood, was a dinner as good as could be got there, and good enough for any bon vivant who could be content for once to go without wine. Alice sat at the head of the table, Alan in his own chair by his father at the foot. His rattlings about the hounds and the new baby were interesting to both. " And you've named the baby Caroline, Mr. Staple- ton. I thought you would, and it is just as it should be." " Of course. That would have been this fellow's name if he'd been a girl. You know what it would have been if not Caroline ? " " No ; but I suppose the name of your mother or of Mother Guthrie." " ]STo ; Mrs. Guthrie, I suppose, would not care to have her name continued in this branch of the family, and my mother always said that no granddaughter must ever be named for her, because she didn't want her to be ashamed of it when grown. / think Hannah is a very good old name, myself ; but when I said no to Caroline's proposal, then she said Alice. But I said no again, and then I took the Bible and wrote it what it is." " And you did exactly right ; bless Caroline's dear heart for suggesting my name ! " 90 WIDOW GUTHRIE. " She loves you, Alice, loves you dearly." Her eyes moistened as she spoke in return to this assurance, so needless to be given, yet so fond to hear. After dinner, when Stapleton had gone to where the hands were at work, Alice, placing a rocker by the side of the bed, said : "Mr. Stapleton is very proud of his baby, Sister Caroline, including the name." " Oh, yes, dear Jack ! I knew that he'd want to name it for me ; I suggested that it should be Alice ; he answered no, not this time ; but said if we had had a Caroline, this one should have been Alice." " It was very good of you both to think of me ; but of course she should have had your name. I am de lighted to see you looking so well." "Why, I am so all the time, dear. I'm almost ashamed of myself sometimes for being always so well," she answered laughingly. And she looked it, as she lay there rosy as the morn ing, her deep-blue eyes and her long, loose, yellow hair helping to make her the beauty that she was. If they had been born sisters there hardly could have been a warmer affection between them, nor greater confidence within limits which others with wrong purposes had marked. Each could not fail to know the other's thoughts of tilings beyond those limits, and one of them yearned for utterance of some of her own. Of a family among whom domestic aifection, the sense of justice, and fair dealing had been handed down from generations, Alice, from the time she became fa miliar with the relations among the Guthries, had suf fered all the pain which an honorable woman can not ALICE VISITS THE STAPLETONS. 91 but feel in such circumstances, a pain the more grievous because, being a woman, she not only could not right the wrong-doing, but for the same reason must even seem, by the silence expected of a wife, to be a partner in the continuance of its infliction. The ways in which such remonstrances as she had made had been parried added to her sense of the shame there was in it all, when she had come to know of what sort was the man on whose account such treatment had been inflicte'd. It was a pity for Guthrie that he had not yet come to know well this wife, and to understand that the sorrow he had put upon her on one line of his conduct was not very far below that w r hich he suffered her to endure from his mother. Alice was better understood by the Stapletons, who, with delicacy corresponding with her own, kept themselves while in her presence from com plainings of any sort, and in any mention of Mrs. Guth rie or of Duncan spoke in generalities in which an out sider could not have known but that all their family relations were such as were common among the best people in the community. Once, and once only, when Stapleton was not present, Alice thought she might venture to hint a hope for change in their property conditions. She spoke with embarrassment. Mrs. Sta pleton answered quickly : " I thank you, Alice, dear. I, and so does Jack, understand entirely your feelings and wishes about us. But, my little sister, you see how well we are doing ; Jack says as well as he cares for us to do. We have a first-rate piece of land, and get a good living and some thing over to lay up for the children. I don't know that you know it, but when Alan was born, mother pro- 92 WIDOW GUTHEIE. posed to make over to me some more property. But I told her without hesitation that Jack and I were one person, that that 'one fact was the foundation of my greatest happiness and hope for this life, and that noth ing, by my consent, should come here which, being known as specially mine, might make me feel to any de gree separate from him. I told Jack afterward what I had said. He laughed, kissed me, but said not a word." " You have a dear, good husband, sister." "Alice, he is perfect. Dear mother never could understand Jack ; but, indeed, she never seemed to quite understand me, and somehow always had a notion that I didn't love her as I ought ; but she was mis taken. Jack says that it will all come out right in time. He understands you, Alice, as well as I do, and, I believe, loves you as well." Alice looked at her, and big tears were in her eyes. " O Sister Caroline," she said, " ever since I have come to know well you and Mr. Stapleton, I have felt that you were to be praised and congratulated rather than blamed and compassionated." Seldom since her marriage had Alice passed a night alone in a chamber of a country-house ; never in this. They put her in a wing facing the south. The night sounds imparted soothings to which, if she could, she would have kept awake in order to indulge at length. But, as a baby, she fell asleep in the midst of the sing ing of a mocking-bird that from a plum tree near the garden gate was serenading his mate reposing upon her nest in a vine before the chamber in which she lay. Whoever has not heard the night music of the mock ing-bird has failed to find at least one thing not to be MR. BRADDY'S EXPOSTULATIONS. 93 forgotten throughout life. Beloved as he is in the day, as sometimes from the top of a peach tree he becomes so transported with exultation that he can not but spring and soar high upward, as if some of his exuberant glad ness he must send up into heaven, yet he is sweeter in the night season. Sing he must, by night and by day ; but at night his joy takes on serenity. Away from the sight of his love, whose rest and whose ponderings in hope of maternity he must not disturb, he subsides into quiet melancholy, whose low, painless, tender meanings the listener feels to be the sweetest of all sweet sounds. On the morrow, at sunrise, Alice was awakened by the same bird, as from a nearer tree he poured his throat in salutation of the new day. CHAPTER XI. ME. BRADDY'S EXPOSTULATIONS. MAECUS, as most of his race were usually, was an ar dent admirer and partisan of his master. He well knew his sentiments and feelings toward the Stapletons. Be sides, being a genuine negro, he had for poor white peo ple a contempt that was graded by the degree of their poverty. He had laughed inwardly at the idea of driv ing his fine team ten miles just to see a baby newly born to those who, compared with his own people, although of the same blood, were poor folks. Yet he was a skillful coachman and in every respect trustworthy in his busi ness. He said to the other servants at home, and to 94: WIDOW GUTHRIE. others that, of course, it would be hard, but he hoped to be able / to stand it for one night, and neither get snake-bit nor come back with loss of all town manners. In the afternoon he walked about the premises, taking a lofty vague interest in what w r as to be seen. The din ner he had eaten was far more satisfactory than he had counted upon, and, upon the whole, things were not as bad as had been expected. At night the male ne groes, very few in number, tired from the day's work, not long after supper left off listening to his talk, and went to their beds. But Clarissy, who, not withstanding her having come from the Stapleton side, had looks and manners for no town negro, male or female, to pretend to despise, politely lingered in the kitchen until her services would be needed in the house. Marcus thought he would make an impression upon her and Hitter, the cook, her mother, and thus he began : " Must be monstrous lonesome livin' down here, Miss Clarissy, so fur away from town." " Miss Clarsy ! Umph ! " muttered the mother, whose back was turned, as she was kneading her dough for to-morrow's breakfast rolls. She shifted her work so that 'she could face the guest, and, as if it was her special task to try to maintain the conversation with one so distinguished, said : " Lonesome ! "What 'bout ? We all gits a plenty, jes as much as dem dat lives in town en think dey got to think more o' deyself den what we country niggers does." Marcus had hoped rather to engage Clarissy in the conversation ; still, he knew that he could more than In the afternoon Marcus walked about the premises. MR. BRADDY'S EXPOSTULATIONS. 95 hold his own with any one of a people so benighted, and so he blandly replied : " Yes'm, Aim' Hitter ; but people does natchul love to see somebody besides home folks sometimes, ef fur nothin' else, fur to enjoy deyself." " Yes ; ah ha ! now I understands you, Markis, en dat is jes what we does down here, when its conwenant, en we wants ter, white folks en niggers." " Yes'm, but den in town, you know, Aun' Ritter, dey is some fun." " What sort o' fun, man ? Don't you en dem tother niggers dar have no work to do dat you has all your time exceptin' when you eat'n en sleep'en to have your fun ? " " Oh, yes'm, we has our work ; but when it through wid en night come, a body ken step out en git some fresh ar, en have a little talk along wid 'quaint'ces en en females, en dat make whut we calls town sisciety." She grabbed her dough as if she would squeeze every breath out of it, but did not delay -in her words. "Town 'siety! Markis, does you want to try to make me b'lieve white folks lets you niggers go trompin' about all over dat town uv a night, havin' your 'siety, as you call it, long o' your 'quaint'ces en en whut wus dem tother folks you said \ " " I said females." " Does you mean women, Markis ? Beca'se ef you does, en we all lived dar, I wouldn't let Clarsy have nothin' to do wid it. Dat I wouldn't ! 'Quain'ces en females 1 My Lord ! Whut will niggers come ter when dey gits togedder in swarms dat way, and am' got white folks follerin' 'em 'bout all de time ! " 96 WIDOW GUTHRIB. " Oh, laws o' me, Aun' Ritter, no ma'am," said Marcus, deprecatingly, " we don't do no trompin\ be cause we has de manners to not do sich as dat. But we walks out, en may be, en may be not, jes as it happen, we draps in en has convisation wid genelmen en ladies." " Umph, umph ! but, Markis, in dat town does dee call nigger women does dee call 'em females en ladies ? " Then she paused in her work for a moment and looked at him searchingly. o / " Yes'm, course we calls 'em females en ladies, des like dee does ev'ywhar." " No, sir, none o' dem big words out here. We calls niggers here jes whut dee is, ef its men, er ef its women, er ef its boys en gals, includin' childern. En whut time does you break up wid your con'gations you're talk- in' 'bout, Markis ? " " We, in gen'l, Aun' Hitter, we manages to be home by nine o'clock, en may be leetle befo' ; beca'se den de bell ring, when its agin de law for colored people to not to be at dey home." " En s'posen you ain' notice de time 'mong dem fe males, en you git berlated, den whut? You has ter dodge en cut dirt, don't yer ? " " Oh, in dat case, we does de bes' we ken, Aun' Rit ter ; but we in gen'l always knows de time, en its monsous sildom anybody git took up." By this time Ritter's work was over, and she said : " Clarsy, time you goin' in de house." The daughter obeyed instantly, then going out for a few moments her mother found and brought in a young man and said : "Markis, I hope you ken try to put up for one MR. BRADDY'S EXPOSTULATIONS. 97 aight with sich as dis place can 'ford. 'Pears like your Miss Alice kin/' " Oh, Aim' Bitter, law me, ma'am ! I been perfec' delighted down here. I jes run on jes to spen' de evenin' wid you en Miss Clarsy." " Miss Clarsy ! " She laughed heartily, then said to the young man : " Lias, take Markis 'long wid you for de res' o' de night. You kin give him dat cot in your house, er you can give him your bed en you take de cot, whichever you en him moughtn't to do betwix' you. You kin bofe go now." Marcus, on his return, reported having had quite a lively time of it, especially, as he described, " wid ole Aun' Hitter, a high ole case." The visitors left next morning in time to reach home at dinner. It had been a happy meeting for all. " What a lovely woman Alice is ! " said Stapleton. " Indeed, she is ! I wish in my heart that brother knew and valued her more." " Oh, well, my dear, he'll find her out in good time, I suppose." He was always an apologist for the infirmities of his wife's people. They had not long been gone when Peterson Braddy made his appearance. "Caroline," said her husband, "yonder is Peter. Coming, I suppose, to congratulate us about the baby." " The dear old fellow ! I'd been thinking he'd come soon. I'm glad he has." Having alighted and tied his horse to a tree, he 7 98 WIDOW GUTHRIE. came on up the walk, slowly and as if hesitating, Staple- ton meeting him. " Is sich a thing lawful, Jack ? " " What thing, Peter ? Howdye. Delighted to sea you ; Caroline said she thought you'd be coming soon." " Well, I didn't know as it would be lawful to come at sich a crootical and eventiful time." " Yes, indeed, the very time of times. You heard the news ? " " Yes, I heard 'em. Curious how when babies are mighty nigh as common as blackberries how news of a fresh one will travel. Ma heard it the very next morn ing. The Davises told it to Emily Pruitt, and she made Billy carry it over to ma. All's well, I hope, and a doin' well ? Girl, they said." " Yes ; just what I wanted." A brief visit to the chamber and a brief inspection of the new-comer were allowed. Mr. Braddy made the speech that he had prepared while on the way. "Well, madam, I congrateyulate you, and special that the baby is a healthy, and, as fur as I can judge from the way you've got it enweloped, a extremely nice and bootiful one for its age. But, madam, what I con grateyulate you specialler about is that, instid of bein' alike Jack Stapleton, it's the very image and pictur' of it's mother, as by good rights, a-bein' of a girl baby, it ought." " O Mr. Braddy, it is exactly like Jack. Look at those eyes." " Predijice, madam ; nothin', not a thing, in this blessed world but predijice ; and, if I might congrate yulate again and some more, it is to the eft'eck that I'm MR. BEADDY'S EXPOSTULATIONS. 99 glad it's so for your sake and his'n to boot, for because, madam, when a married man have no great shakes to run on as to looks and, I may say, nothin' else, it's ruther to the advantage of both sections of the family when his wife think she can afford to take up a predi- jice for him." He smiled the more because his " congrateyulations," as he termed them, turning inward, persuaded him that these extemporaneous remarks were nearly as good as his set speech. After more of such affectionate rally ing there and on the piazza, the gentlemen went out for a stroll. Braddy gave a graphic account of the picnic, dwelling much upon the manifold charms of Miss Jewell. " But, Jack, somethin' was ruther wrong I should say to-wards the last betwixt her and Dunk's wife. I don't suppose she said anything about it here Missis Guthrie, I mean and if she did it ain't any of my business." " No, Peter, Alice made no reference to Miss Jew ell that I heard of." " Oh, well, mayby they ain't much in it ; but if I ain't easier fooled than what I take myself to be, there's something. Dunk stuck to her close as he could git, and all the time, except when she'd just call up some other feller. Everybody saw how he were neglectin' of his wife, and I'll be dad fetch it if I wasn't sorry for her ; but you know what sort of a bull-head feller Dunk Guthrie is, and it looked like he done forgot all about he had a wife, albe she was as handsome a w r oman as was on the ground, to my opinion. I notice her a-lookin' at 'em sometimes, and then turnin' herself away, 100 WIDOW GUTHRIE. like the sight wasn't exactly the thing she ruther see ; and final Dunk and the woman sot down by a tree and Dunk begun to whisper, when all of a suddent that Miss Jewell she ris like she was skeered, and she looked at Missis Guthrie and she started to go to-wards her ; but, bless your soul, Missis Guthrie she ris too, and she turned her back, and she went for her carriage, and Dunk arfter her, like he had got to his senses at last, and they went for home in short order. Miss Jewell she looked non-plushed for a while. Still, she rattled on with me while her school-girls were gitting up their things. I hope they isn't anything serious. I jes thought I'd tell you about it. I'm not going to open my mouth about it to anybody else." . Stapleton, after some rather grave reflection, said : "I've been told that Duncan is sometimes impru dent in the society of young women. His wife, who is the soul of honor and delicacy, may feel hurt occa sionally by his thoughtless deportment ; but I hope no harm will come of what you tell me, Peter." " I do, too, but I wouldn't swear it. I know Dunk Guthrie better than you do, Jack." " Perhaps you do." " Jack Stapleton, you know, sir, that a good deal of my time that I might put to better use is took up a-thinkin' about you ; and special these last three days and nights, sence you've got another baby, and no tellin' when sich as that is to stop, that my mind a heap of the time I jes can't keep it off o' your wife and children ? You are the doggona-mightidst, doggonedest feller I ever knowed in all my life that's got the wife you has and keers nothin' for l&r intrusts nor her children's ; MR. BRADDY'S EXPOSTULATIONS. 101 them that's done come already, and leavin' out them in rapid sequession that's to come, and if that's cussin' you'll have to excuse it ; that's all I got to say." " My sakes ! I don't think I understand all your oaths, Peter ; but they sound awful." " That's the way I want 'em to sound to a man that's a-letting Dunk Giithrie and his mother cut his wife and children out o' their rights, and he hain't the enigy nor not the sperrit to try to stop it. And I want you to know that I ain't the onliest man nor woman that talks that way, not by a jugful." Others of the neighbors, with more or less directness, had hinted to Stapleton their opinions that he was too .submissive to a state of things that it was worth while to protest against if not endeavor to alter, and even- tempered as he was, the subject was disagreeable to think about, more so to discuss. He answered with Borne impatience. " Why, Peter, what am I to do ? In the first place, the property belongs to Mrs. Giithrie by Mr. Guthrie's will. In the next place, neither Caroline nor I care enough about the matter to make any public ado. We've got as much as we need now, and we are in creasing it as fast as we care to. Then we both know that complaining will have no result but set people to talking more, and put Caroline on hostile terms with the family, a thing she wants to avoid." Braddy, looking at him w T ith a grin that tried to be as savage as possible, asked : "What about your children, sir, male and female, female and male, special, female. What about them ? " " O Pete ! You talk as if the children were bound 102 WIDOW GUTHRIE. to perish. Rather than that, I suppose Mrs. Guthrie will do something for them in her will ; and if she doesn't, I'm not disturbed by fear of not being able to make as much for them as they'll need. I won't deny that sometimes I feel a little stung, and so does Caro line, by such undeserved treatment ; but I don't see any way to remedy it, at least in Mrs. Guthrie's lifetime, and not much, if any, afterward." " I should say so ! In the first place, the old lady ain't a-goin' to die before you're an old man. She's a-goin' to live tell every tooth " " Come, Peter ! Such talk is not right, nor like you." " Doggone it all, no ! It ain't, about anybody. I take it every word back. I forgot myself for the min ute. But it's' because I git so mad sometimes about this whole business that I can't always keep in the p's and q's like a man ought when he's a talkin' about females of all kind. But, Jack, die when she will, she's goin' to do nothin', or what's next to nothin', for anybody that's got your name stuck on to the end, and you know Dunk Guthrie well enough to not doubt in your mind that he'll take every blessed thing his mother will palm off on him 'before she die and when she die, and then it'll be too late, and Tom Tolly say it ain't fur from being too late now." " That so ? " " Yes ; it is so, and nothin' else ~but so. Pi)e talked to Tom, if you wouldn't, and when I told him what my father used to tell me about old man Guthrie's will, which he was one o' the witnesses, and what the old man said about it, at the signin' and after the signin', MR. BRADDY'S EXPOSTULATIONS. 103 Tom said the will wasn't worth the paper it was writ on. But now let me tell you. The children was noth- in' but children, and everybody thought Missis Guthrie was goin' to do right, like she had ought to and like she promised the old- man. But what's closer to the p'int, Tom asked me if your wife was of age when you married her, and I told him yes ; because you and her waited a purpose till she were twenty-one, so she couldn't be called disobedient to her mother. Then what you reckon Tom said ? Why he up, he did, and he went on to talk about the law of the case, and he say, Tom did, that the Statchit o' Limitations you know what that is better than I do but it potects orphans and minor children tell they git of age, and after that, she don't bother with their business, but lets 'em root for theirselves, that is providin' the fe male portions of 'em don't marry before twenty-one and so git flung in the power o' their husbands, and in that case the Statchit keep on hangin' to 'em. But you see how it is in your case. That ar Statchit begun a-runnin' ag'inst your wife soon in the mornin' the day you got married, and Tom say that when she once starts on a run, they ain't anything on top o' the ground can head her or stop her, and he say, Tom do, that in less than another year she'll be gone for good, because the law give you four years, and you've used up three of 'em. Now, Jack, I have brung in Tom's name ruther aginst his consent, because Tom Tolly ain't one to want nobody to think that he is after gittin' a law case by meddlin' in other people's business. He jes answered my questions as I asked 'em, and he answered 'em pine blank." 104 WIDOW GUTHR1E. " Tom ouglit to know that I couldn't misjudge him, Peter, but don't you see that an attack upon the will would be imputing fraud to Mrs. Guthrie." " No, it wouldn't. Or, if so be, it would be taken it off of Mister Guthrie. Why, sir, one thing made pa suspicion about the thing was because the old man Guthrie was so fond of his daughter. It was Calline this, and Calline that; and he proved everything he said about how good and smart she was by her own mother, and he got her promise to take keer of her, and after all that, lo ! and behold ! Oh, my Lord ! If I can't sometimes think I can see little Alan Stapleton a growed up man, with his grandpa's name exceptin' of that tag a comin' on behind, and what's worse a awful sight, Calline Stapleton, the very pictur of her mother, bootiful as a pink, sharp as a brier, smart as a steel-trap, and both of 'em poor as Job's coffin, or his turkey, either. I'll be dogamighty doggoned to dognation, by the eternal, if it don't hurt my feelings sometimes to that I have to go off somewhar and mighty nigh cry ! " He rose from the log on which they were seated, strode around within a moderate circle, kicked violently several stumps and tender young trees, and thus having discharged some of his exuberant passion, raised his coat-tails, thrust them backward with disdain, and re sumed his seat. After some further discussion in a calmer tone, they returned to the house. A little more of gallant badinage with Mrs. Stapleton, and the vjsitor took his leave. MOTHER AND SON. 105 CHAPTER XII. MOTHER AND SON. GUTHEIE had spent the evening with his mother. It was thus that she preferred to have him with her self. Heartily as she had favored his marriage with Alice Ludwell, because it was in accord with her no tions regarding property and family connections, yet she could never subdue the jealousy always indulged at the thought of his becoming attached to anybody else more fondly than to herself. This feeling was in her breast, distinctly asserting itself when for the first time she took into her arms his bride. When she discov ered the infirmity, Alice partly compassionated and partly excused such devotion to one whom she her self worshiped, and she hoped and endeavored to be come as much a daughter to her as Duncan was her son. The futility of such endeavor was soon made manifest, and the refusal to join in ignoring Mrs. Staple- ton increased the distance between them. Mrs. Guthrie's jealous eyes noted not only without alarm, but with pleasure the failure of Alice to make Duncan less ready to accept her undue partialities. He did not appear to object to the growth of attachment between his sister and his wife, perhaps because they served in a degree to palliate public sentiment, which, as he must know, con demned the treatment of the former. So the relations between her son and her daughter-in-law had become about as Mrs. Guthrie would have planned. At a massive mahogany table covered with red dam- 106 WIDOW GUTHRIE. ask mother and son sat. Thereon were two branched silver candlesticks and a service of silver none or little the worse from having been through several genera tions. A variety of good things were served ; for Mrs. Guthrie often said that the only difference between her meals when alone and when having company was the length of her table and the quantity of eatables put upon it. " I'll lay Alice, nor her mother before her, can't beat that cup of coffee, Duncan." " No, indeed ; but Alice tries to learn all the arts about coffee, and she would succeed faster but that she herself prefers it weak, having some sort of notion that when strong it is not good for her." " Yes ; that's just the notion of some young married women and housekeepers these days. They think they must study about their nerves. I'm thankful that wasn't the case with me. To tell the truth, I was married and not married young at that and had children before I knew that I had any nerves, and my suspicion is that doctors encourage the idea of 'em to make people send for them oftener, when my opinion is that often what's the principal matter with complaining people is the need of sticking closer to work, meddling as little as they can help in other folks' business, and keeping up an appetite for their victuals." After supper they repaired to the piazza, Mrs. Guth rie taking with her a vast turkey-tail fan in defense of the heat which her generous supper had encouraged, and now she was ready for a chat of the sort she liked. " So Alice thought she must go down to Caroline's. "Well, I'm glad she went. If there's anybody I am MOTHER AND SON. 107 sorry for, it's poor Caroline. She was a bea'ntiful girl, and could have done so much better. Yet, as far as I can see, she's never showed the first sign that she thought she'd made a mistake. Of course she can't help herself now; but I do think when she's in my presence and I happen to mention that man's name, she needn't take me up before I've said anything like what I started out to say, and then go to running on about what a great man he is, and how devoted to her and she to him. At my time of life, and knowing how violently I was opposed to her marrying him, such as that seems to me ungrateful. But I don't object to Alice going- there occasionally, because it looks better before the com munity for some of the family to fall in there once in a while Yes, light your cigar, my son. I don't mind it out here. Indeed, I love for you to smoke, although I despise the thing in the house when it's got cold. But I'd rather you'd smoke than not, because you love it, and because when other people are having you to themselves and I'm here all by myself, even the cold scent of your cigar, if nothing else, is some comfort to me, because it minds me of the times before anybody came between us ; not that I don't think you married very well, and as well as any mother ought to expect, Duncan, and I think a heap of Alice ; you know I do." " Certainly, mother, and I am very glad to know it. Alice is a good woman and a good wife. She knows by this time that nobody can ever get entirely between you and me. She is sorry for Caroline, just as you are, and feeling that she ought to go there sometimes, I never object when she proposes it." "I'm glad you don't, and it's very good in you to 108 WIDOW GUTHRIE. be indulgent with her under the circumstances. Yes, smoke your cigar. I like to smell it when you are smoking. Nobody else. I hope Caroline, no matter how much he may want it done, will not name Jack Stapleton's child after me. I suppose Alice will tell me or send me word how Caroline is when she gets back. Ah me ! It's hard at my time of life. But, Duncan, I've had so much trouble, one kind and an other, do you know I've learned better how to fight it off than I used to ? For fighting is the only way to meet it. I wonder if jthey'd take a few more negroes now since another mouth has come to be fed. That creature hooted at it when Alan was born, or made Caroline do it, having her under his thumb as he's always had her, because I wanted to settle them so he couldn't put his paws on them to sell them for his debts." " I doubt if they would take them, mother, in the way you would propose. Of course, you will do as you think best ; but, if I were in your place, I think I'd send them a few negroes and a little money, and say nothing about any settlement. Jack is not a money-making fellow; but he's not a spendthrift. Like other men, he's natu rally opposed to his wife having any estate separate from his own." To do Guthrie justice, his greed for fortune was far from being as eager as his mother's, and, while he was willing to have the lion's part of what she had to be stow, he really wished that his sister's should be larger than it was. This was as well from some sense of jus tice and natural affection as for the sake of mitigating public opinion, which he well knew to be against him self, though not to the same degree as against his MOTHER AND SON. 109 mother. He had a desire for the Legislature, to which, during a period long before and several years after, the counties generally used to* send their ablest men ; but those closest to him had kept him from making a can vass, assured that he would be defeated. He made that suggestion to his mother sincerely, knowing that it would at least do himself no harm, if he had little hope of its doing Mrs. Stapleton any good. " I shall do no such a thing ! Whatever I may give, I mean to give to those children. I can't bear the very thought of Jack Stapleton owning any more of my property, dead or alive ; and one thing I had on my mind to tell you to-night was I wanted you to make out a will for me. Not that I'm not as healthy and feel as healthy and strong as I ever felt in my life ; and a will is a solemn sort of thing to keep about a body, or even to put their name to it, that they know is one thing to outlast them, and give every blessed thing away except the clothing they're buried in ! " She rose, fanning herself rapidly, and instantly sat down again. " But," she continued, " all such as that is notions, of course, and means nothing here nor there, and I feel like it wouldn't be right to you to keep putting it off. I can sign the thing without looking at it, and you can keep it, as I wouldn't feel comfortable having it here in the house. So, when I get ready for it, I'll tell you how I want it." The law, as Guthrie well knew, has always been sus picious of wills in the handwriting of favored legatees whose claims by natural right are not superior to those of some others. He informed her of this, and she 110 WIDOW GUTHRIE. caught instantly the need of making everything en tirely secure. " Well, who had I better get to write it, then ? Mr. Jamison used to attend to what law business your father had ; but I don't want him for that, and I have my rea sons. Your father sent for him to write his will, when at last I got him to see he ought to make one, and he wouldn't do it, because he said your father wasn't strong enough at the time like he knew anything about it, or that it was any of his lookout and he went away saying he'd attend to it some other time ; and so I got your father to let me send for Mr. Suttle, and he wrote it. The fact is, I knew it was a thing it wouldn't do to put off, because your father he got to going into some sort of decline. He could go about as well as ever, and had as good an appetite as he ever had ; but he got to having some sort of headaches, and they made him fret ful and rather suspicious, and it took a heap of pains sometimes to keep him down from being against every body except Caroline ! He was right in his mind ex cept fretful and making more of Caroline than me and you both, and more than he alivays had been doing. But, by the closest attention and all of old Job's pa tience, I got him out of that long enough to get him to consent to make his will ; and I told him he knew I was a business woman, and to will the property to me to manage the best I could, and he told me to have it made just as I wanted it. And so that was the will Mr. Suttle wrote, and he witnessed it, and so did Jimmy Butcher, that lived in that little house on the Augusta road just out of town, who used to do any little carpen ter jobs we wanted about the lot. And Mr. Suttle said II MOTHER AND SON. HI we had to have three witnesses, and at that very minute old Mr. Braddy, that Pete Braddy's father, was riding by, and Mr. Suttle went out and called him in. I was sorry he done it at first, because he seemed like he must be very particular, like Mr. Jamison. But I was glad of it afterward, because when he asked your father point-blank if that was his will he was signing, your father said yes promptly and squarely." During this narration her fan was doing its best work. " Have you ever mentioned those circumstances to any person, mother ? " " No, not until now, when I'm telling them to you. The main reason I never did it was because it was no body else's business. It was all right, wasn't it, Dun can ? You ask the question solemn-like like you had some suspicions, too." " No, no, mother. I could have no sort of suspicion of you doing anything except what you believed to be right. I merely thought I'd ask the question. I had no particular reason. "What became of Butcher ? Do you happen to remember ? Mr. Suttle, I know, moved to Louisiana some years back." "/" don't know what became of Butcher. They moved away somewhere a year or so afterward, where, I don't know, and never asked. Such people are always moving and vibrating about. What makes you ask that f " " Nothing very particular, mother. As you've told me of the will, I was just thinking I'd get all the infor mation about it that I could. It is very interesting to me." " Duncan," she said after a thoughtful silence of a 112 WIDOW GUTHRIE. minute or more, "as I have told you that much I've concluded to tell you some more." She rose, walked into the hall and called to Judy, who, answering from the rear part of the mansion, came quickly. " You may go out to the kitchen, or one of the houses, and stay till I want you. Don't you come till I ring the bell." " Yes'm, mistess." " Go on." Returning to her seat, she then continued : " Duncan, if what was done hadn't been done, some thing a heap worse would have happened. The prop erty you see me with, and the property you've got, ex cept what you married into, instead*of being where it is, would, a long way the biggest part of it, be on Little River, with Jack Stapleton a-lording over it ; and you'd have been poor, and me dead, I reckon, and that of a broken heart. Your father always thought I was par tial to you, and that made him more partial to Caro line ; and the fact is, I had to do something to keep me and you* from being cut off, as he came near threatening to do more than once after his headaches came upon him. Caroline loved her father, and was always hug ging and flattering whenever she was about him ; but you was rather shy of him, and you held mostly to your mother, as, bless your heart, you have always done. If it was to do over again, I'd do it a thousand times." " You did as you thought best, mother, there can be no doubt about that. Did father refer much to his will after it was executed ? " " What do you mean by ' executed ' ? " MOTHER AND SON. 113 " I mean the signing." " No, not one single time ; not to me he didn't. I think he forgot all about it, and I was glad he did. If he hadn't, and had taken into his head to make another, woe be to me and you ; for he used to cry and go on, and say nobody cared anything for him except Caroline. But after he signed the will he calmed down out of all that, and never spoke a cross word till he died three months after. But he never took to his bed till a week before that. What makes you ask so many questions, Duncan ? You actually worry me." " I only wanted to get at all the facts, mother, so as to be sure of the ground we stand on. Did he give you any directions or any advice about the management of the property ? " " Not one word. Your father knew, of course, that I had sense enough to do what was best with my own children, and I have done it, and I mean to keep on doing it ; but I'm going to do it in my own way, be cause I've been through too much for Caroline Staple- ton, as she chooses to call herself, in disobedience to my wishes, to do according to her way, and specially the way of that creature." " Well, mother," he said, rising, " it is getting time for us both to sleep. You think about it, and when you have decided as to what you want let me know. I'd be as liberal with Caroline as I could. There's nothing to hinder your giving what you please to the children." " That's what I shall do with what I do do. But don't go quite yet. Sit down. I haven't told all I wanted. Sit down, sit down." 8 WIDOW GTJTHRIE. Her voice, which had been low, sank lower, and its tone was one of sadness with some bitterness. " Old as I am, and young as I have been, my son, I've never had nigh the comfort that I think I ought. It's always been my nature to want to love and be loved, and I always knew how to give, but never how to get that is, until you were born. I can't tell you, nor I won't tell you many of the things I've been through, even with your father about Caroline. But although I longed for it, the child never cared for me from the time even before she was weaned ; but her father was all, all, everything to her even then ; and when she'd get enough nourishment from me, if her father was by, she'd hold out her hands to him and cry if he didn't take her that very minute, and all I could do I couldn't get her to care anything for me except to be fed. Your father, he'd laugh and say to not mind it, because she was too young to know any better, and she'd come all right in time. But I tell you, Duncan, it rankled through my very blood to think after all I'd been through in my life, and what I had been through for her, that she was the most beautiful thing I ever laid my eyes on, and then for her to not have any love for me ! Why, it makes me wretched now, sometimes, here by myself to think of how miserable it used to make me when I'd be suckling her and she'd look up in my face, let go the breast, and go to screaming till I'd have to turn her over to her father or her nurse, and wished to God she'd never been born ! The child could see at that very time she could see the misery she was giving me, and I declare sometimes if she didn't look like she was sorry she couldn't love me. And MOTHER AND SON. 115 when you came I said to myself, have I got to go through such as that again and have children to love other people and not me f and I conld'nt tell the times before you were born, and after it, I got down on my knees and I told God Almighty that I thought any mother was entitled to the love of at least one of her own offspring, and then come here a minute, Dun can." When he came she embraced him, shedding hot tears the while ; but a moment afterward, releasing him, and drying her eyes, she said : " That'll do ; go back to your seat. Only the Lord knows what a comfort he sent to me in you ! " But I never mistreated Caroline. Of course no mother could do that with her own child. I just let her alone, except to work for her and do for her the same as I worked and done for you. I never laid my hand on her to strike her in all her life. And when you showed so different, I said to myself, Mr. Guthrie had one to himself, now I've got one to myself. But a man's a man, and he wants all, and he tried to make you love him like you did me ; but I swore you shouldn't. And when at last he began to fail, and go on so with his threats She rose, looked round, then advancing with one arm high lifted, whispered : " Duncan Guth rie, before that should have been done, Pd have done things which you lawyers, and you judges think you must send people that do 'em to your peni-tentiary f but I'd have killed the one that first laid hands on me to take me there ! Now," turning away, " you may go on home. I'll let you know when I want anything done. Don't name it to me till I tell you. I won't be 116 WIDOW GUTHRIE. tit in some time to talk about it, and I don't expect to get hardly a wink of sleep this night." She let him press her cheek with his lips, then turned into the house. Her maid came running to the sound of the bell. " Judy, put your mattress on the floor at the foot of my bed, and when you've washed your hands, sprinkle some cologne water over both my pillows ; then, after I get to bed, do you go to rubbing me till I get to sleep or tell you to stop." Guthrie pondered the revelations made by his moth er, and they gave him some anxiety. Mr. Macfarlane, in his efforts through him to induce her to do a more liberal part by Mrs. Stapleton, had spoken with some earnest ness of what was generally known to be the state of his father's mind about the time when the will purported to have been executed, and hinted that some trouble might come if efforts should ever be made to set it aside. Guth rie did not expect that such action would ever be begun, and he never had feared that if begun it could suc ceed. But his mother's case, he saw, was not as strong as he had always been supposing, and the bare possibil ity of public investigation gave him some apprehension. He wished now more earnestly than ever that she had done, or that she would do what at least w r ould tend to satisfy the public, and he resolved that lie would urge such action upon her as soon as he could find her in fit mood. He lay awake much longer than usual, but the night's rest reinvigorated his spirits, and he doubted not that he could manage the business with satisfactory results. ALICE INTERPOSES FOR THE STAPLETONS. H7 CHAPTER XIII. ALICE INTERPOSES FOB THE STAPLETONS. THE sight of a peaceful home like that in which she had been reared, wherein domestic love and trustfulness far more than made amends for scant property and injustice endured, touched Alice with tenderness and sympathy. Her mind dwelt mueh upon the conjugal love and happiness which no outside assaults nor neg lects could molest. Exquisitely painful was the sight of the care with which the Stapletons had to econo mize in their living so as to keep within their income and lay up a trifle yearly for future added needs. The home-made clothes of Stapleton and Alan contrasted with her own costly apparel and some she had wrought for the child just born, Alan's admiring embarrassed gaze at these, and many other such things, inflicted pain that was intensified by the thought that, although against her will, she in some degree was party to the wrong that had made these conditions exist. She shud dered to tllink that if not already, there was danger of her becoming an unhappy woman. She dared not admit to herself, as she rode alone in silence, regret that she had ever left the home of her childhood. For she jiao^iyen to her husband her whole self, and she could not Jjut continue^ to^vearjt for some at least of the returns to which she regarded_Jicr^elf, thus freely and entirely^ given, 'to be entitled.^ OnlyoneT time~iiatPshe remon strated, and that with delicate mildness, with her mother- in-law about a state of things that she -had never thought 118 WIDOW GUTHRIE. to be possible in a family claiming to be even respect able, and seen with grief and shame that the only re sult of such interference was diminution of her own value and influence in the family. Yet she felt herself bound by common honesty and common humanity not to give up all efforts in that behalf with her husband. He met her on her return with real pleasure. "I've been as lonesome as a ghost without you, Alice. I spent the evening with mother ; but I can't tell you how I missed you afterward." He spoke sincerely. During her absence, her value, as it is with selfish people generally, seemed higher than when she was with him all the time. She was pleased by the many questions asked by him with more than usual interest concerning his sister and her children and the general aspect of things about them. Encour aged by his words, she said : " Duncan, my dear, contented, even happy, as Sister Caroline and Mr. Stapleton are, I could not keep my self from wishing, all the time I was there, that they could be put upon a higher plane of living." He had hoped that she would not mention that sub ject again, although he had thought to allude to it him self, but on his own motion and at his own leisure. He answered, dryly : " I'm sure I wish so too." She noticed his tone, but decided to proceed. " Then why not urge mother to do more for them ? " " Because, Alice, it is simply useless. Mother has her own notions about Jack Stapleton, in which, to some extent, I agree with her. He has never made the least effort to conciliate her opposition, nor mine ALICE INTERPOSES FOR THE STAPLETONS. H9 either. Poor as lie is, and without hereditary name and family importance, his bearing is, or tries to be, like that of an owner of an inherited barony. I'll ad mit that he's an attractive man rather so to women particularly, and Caroline, poor thing, thinks she is fully blessed in having such a fellow all to herself. lie never comes to see mother, Caroline seldom, and when she does, her deportment is' constrained and unaffection- ate. Still, both I and Uncle Dennis Macfarlane have urged mother to do something more for them in spite of their treatment of her, and she offered to do so, and only last night she assured me of her intention (as Caro line refuses the offer of any separate estate) to make over to the children something she did not say how much." " As for Caroline's refusal, offered with such con ditions," Alice replied in a low voice, wishing to re strain her feelings, " I would have done the same, and I can not call to my mind a woman among my acquaint ance, at least among my friends, who would have acted otherwise." " I don't see the aptness of comparing the action of the wife of such a man as Jack Stapleton with what my wife's might be in possible similar contingencies." " The aptness is in this : Caroline, like every wife who is thoroughly loyal, feels that she and her husband are one, and that not a single item should be allowed to come in that would tend in the faintest degree toward their separate existence or any apprehension of it. You say Mr. Stapleton never comes in expressly to see mother. Has she ever deported herself toward him so that he could infer that she accepted him as a mem ber of her family ? " 120 WIDOW GUTHRIE. " No ; that she has not ; nor have I. I'd see Jack Stapleton at the bottom of Little River before I'd call him brother ; and rather than call him son, mother, I suspect, would see him farther than that." " Such as that has surprised me more than anything that has ever come within my experience ; for to me Mr. Stapleton has always seemed not only a good man, but gentle and gentlemanlike. I don't wonder that such a man could win Caroline's affections, and that she would abstain from everything that might imperil the perfect harmony that is between him and herself. "What I do wonder at is that such a man is not justly appreciated where just appreciation is most needed, and where it would produce abundant blessing. Caroline is devoted to him, as any woman must be to such a hus band ; she has identified herself with him in everything property, hopes of every kind and a happier wife I do not, and never did know. But it looked wrong for a sister-in-law to be the first and only one of her im mediate family to go to her with congratulations and proffers of aid on such an occasion as now. In spite of the peace and contentment to which I was witness, I was deeply pained by thoughts of the neglect in which they are suffered to live. What the end of such discrim ination is to be God only knows. But I notice that you want me to stop talking about it, and I will. I owed it to to myself, among others, to say what I have. That is said now, and you need not apprehend that I shall refer to the subject again." He was not despotic, nor even petulant. Her words had little influence in the direction most desired ; but, to some extent, he sympathized with her trouble, Alice, AT THE MACFARLANES. 121 unreasonable though it seemed, and so, appearing to have been impressed by her appeals, he declared his in tention to consider more carefully the case of his sister and her family, and he gave his promise that before very long he would confer with Mr. Macfarlane, and jointly with him move for whatever further advance his mother could be induced to make. After that they had other talk and some music. Alice, w T hen she went to bed, hoped that her visit and the report made concerning it had not been in vain. Upon the mind of her husband, fixed within the last few days firmly as unexpectedly, was the conviction that it was to cost more pains than he had counted upon to hold respect where so easily he had conquered affec tion. The promise just given he intended to fulfill, par ticularly as it was in the line of the resolution made the night before. But he felt no need to be in haste, and so he delayed and kept delaying until it became too late. CHAPTER XIY. AT THE MACFARLANES. MRS. MACFARLANE, rather small in youth, now rounded by time, good-living, and good temper, dif fered from her sister in disposition as much as in stat ure and general appearance. As good a housekeeper, she was quiet and kindly in her domestic rule. They were no wider apart now than they had been in their youth. The elder, domineering by nature, suppressed 122 WIDOW GUTHRIE. the younger as much as she could, out of envy for the greater love and admiration paid to the latter by most of their acquaintances. Unable to conceal the rude ele ments of her being during a period regarded by her as unjust and unreasonable, she did not receive any oiler of marriage except such as she despised. "When Mr. Macfarlane began to visit at her father's house and ap parently with matrimonial intent, she believed that his aim was for herself ; but when it became known that her sister, just come to womanhood, was the favorite, she made little effort to hide her disappointment, and, almost none, her resentment. Marriage some years afterward with Mr. Guthrie, a man of corresponding wealth and social position, seemed to satisfy her ambi tion that had been waiting so long, although she con tinued to have little affection for Mrs. Macfarlane, whom she could not cease to regard as a rival who had surpassed her. Their husbands were friends and co- laborers in behalf of the general welfare of the com munity, and their families had always lived on decently affectionate terms with each other. Since the death of Mr. Guthrie they had become yet more reserved in their intercourse because of the widow's conviction that some of her actions in managing the estate bequeathed her by her husband were not approved either by Mr. Macfarlane or her sister. Occasionally she consulted with the former about her business, but she neither thanked him for any unasked counsel nor heeded it ex cept when convinced of its importance. Under her management the Guthrie property had grown to be considerably larger than his, and she rather suspected that secretly he had repented of having gone behind AT THE MACFARLANES. 123 herself in his choice of a wife. If he did not she knew he ought, and that was enough. Her superior bearing was accepted without complaint by her sister. In the family it was a matter for pleasant jesting as well as felicitation that she had learned thoroughly how to pre vent assaults from Mrs. Guthrie by making the latter always foresee that they would not be resisted. The younger members had been fond of one an other always, and now and then Charlotte made a visit of a day or two to Mrs. Stapleton, whom she dearly loved. An impulsive, generous girl, she had spoken several times and in honest terms to Duncan about the treatment of his sister, and said that it was his duty to see that it was different. Once when she had reported such appeal at home her mother said : " Charlotte, interference on your part is sure to do no good to Caroline, and, if reported to sister, will set her against you. She always would reject advice from anybody unless when it coincided with her own notions and resent it whenever voluntarily offered. You see that already she looks with less affection upon Alice, and it is for that reason mainly. Your father has quit talking to either of them upon the subject, and I charge you never to allude to it again with Duncan. Of course, you don't need any warning about talking to your Aunt Hester about it." " That I don't," answered Charlotte laughing, " but I say it is a shame." " Of course it is, and your father has warned sister that it is hardly to be expected but that Mr. Stapletcn some time or another will seek to enforce by law what he already believes to be his right ; but that is his own 124 WIDOW GUTHRIE. affair. It is and ever was difficult to get along with sister by the practice of constant prudence. It will be impossible if either you or I interfere in this or any other of her affairs." About a week after the visit of Alice this family gave a party. There was nothing unusual except that Guthrie's deportment during the whole evening was serious. He did not speak once to Miss Jewell. This change was obliged to be noticed, especially as several times he was quite near her. In her manner also was not the gayety nor even the self-possession that were habitual. She seemed to prefer the society of the elder ly ladies, as if she was trying to recover something that she feared she had lost or to secure what she believed herself in some danger of losing. When asked to play, her pieces were such as she supposed might be most pleasing to them, and she refused Tolly's request, made more than once, for those of another kind, her plea be ing that she was not in correspondent mood. In this while Guthrie kept his back toward her, and what chat ting he did was with Alice or other married women. Once during the evening, while passing by Alice, she saluted her with some hesitation. Alice returned the salutation with politeness and nothing more. When near the breaking up, Tolly asked if he might be her escort home, she answered : " No, thank you, Mr. Tolly. I am going with Cousin William." " I haven't seen you since the picnic." " N"o ; I wanted to see you after you had left to tell you something. On reflection, I was glad you were called away and I didn't." AT THE MACFARLANES. 125 All this was said in a low voice, as the following also : " "Won't you tell me now ? " " No, nor ever. It's of no importance to you, and telling it would do more harm than good." When all were gone some family commentings were had. "Young Tolly looked well to-night, Louisa," said Mr. Macfarlane. " Yes. I was much pleased with his manners. He knows well how to act toward a hostess, and to be con siderate of elderly and plain women. He moves in com pany with the more ease because he makes no special effort, and then he talks as if what he was saying he neither expected nor wished to be regarded as of any more importance than it is in point of fact." " I like the fellow's simple manliness. He carries a level head upon his shoulders, and looks like one who is willing to wait for fortune because he expects it with confidence. They tell me that his law practice is im proving constantly, and has already gone ahead of Dun can's. Duncan won't like him for that. By the way, Charlotte, what was the matter with him and Miss Jewell to-night ? If they even spoke to each other, I don't know it. Whenever I have seen them together heretofore, he seemed very devoted ; more so, I thought, than a married man ought to be. Miss Jewell also looked, not as serious as he did, but more staid than usual. Have they fallen out ? " " It looks so, father, but I'm confident that nothing very serious has taken place. Alice seemed rather wor ried by Cousin Duncan's neglect of her at the picnic a 126 WIDOW GUTHRIE. week ago, and I was glad that, as I believe, Miss Jewell noticed it. I asked her to-night why she "was so re-. served, and she answered that she had some reason, but could not then tell me what it was. I am a little afraid that Cousin Duncan was more pronounced in his ad miration for her that day than was becoming. I never saw him so gay and so overflowing." " You suspect, then, that she is shying off from him?" " Indeed, I do, father." " Good ! I'm glad to hear it. I don't know all about Duncan Guthrie. Sometimes I suspect from his very audacity that he's a little cracked, and his poor mother has always acted as if she wanted him to be so ; but I know enough to feel sure that no such woman as Miss Jewell can be entirely safe in accepting his gush ing services. I wish she had discouraged them sooner ; for there is some little talk about her and Duncan al ready, and that, if continued, would injure the school, and, what would be worse, hurt herself." " Miss Jewell, father, has been used to society that, in some respects, is more free than ours or than that of any rural community. I think that she has become as sured, at last, of this fact, and has made up her mind to conform to requirements to which she has not been ac customed, especially as she is among those who are com paratively strangers to her." " I wish," said Mrs. Macfarlane, " that she had come to that decision sooner; for everybody except her knows that Duncan is imprudent to a degree that some times amounts to recklessness." "The difficulty is," pleaded Charlotte, "that she AT THE MACFARLANES. 127 hadn't been in Clarke long enough to understand Cousin Duncan as, from what father intimates, I am afraid he is, or to know how he is regarded by people whose good opinions it is most worth her while to secure. I could not warn her, because it would have seemed not quite loyal to my own family connections, and might have looked as if I were distrustful of her ability, as I have been and now am not, to take care of herself. I think that day's experience has taught them both a lesson. She did not need it near as mucli as Cousin Duncan, for I do believe her to be as honorable a woman as I ever saw. She admits that she likes the society of gen tlemen, and she does so in a w^ay to convince anybody of her unsuspicious innocence." " That's right, Charlotte. Defend whomsoever you know or believe to be guiltless. Society in this region has become more exacting than it used to be, especially hi the case of women. Your mother, as well as I, re members the greater freedom that was once allowed. Thirty years ago waltzing was as common almost as dancing, and card-playing as common as checkers. I never knew any special harm to come from such license ; but the religious denominations, in their zeal each to get ahead of the rest, have induced conditions that women especially, for their own safety, are obliged to conform to. Duncan knows that as well as anybody ; but he thinks that he can afford to be an outlaw strong enough to protect any who will belong to his following. Poor fellow ! He is doing less for himself than I had hoped when he first went to the bar. His father's death was a grievous loss to him. There was one of the justest and most discreet men that I ever knew. 128 WIDOW GUTHRIE. But what is to be expected of a young man so selfish as to be willing to accept the open, avowed preference of his mother over his own sister, who is worth a dozen of him ? I declare it pains me every time I think how Caroline is treated, and if not with his consent without enough of dissent to amount to anything. I wish he was half the man that John Stapleton is. Just here, I will say something, to go no further. I don't believe that John Stapleton, careless, good-natured fellow that he seems, is going to submit always to injustice which there is no word so fit to describe as shocking and if he ever does make an assault upon Alan Guthrie's will, both of them will see sights that will make them wish they had acted differently, whether such assault be made good or not. At least Duncan will. I'm not so sure about Hester. What effect do you think, Louisa, that chal lenge to public investigation would have upon her ? " " None, husband, but to rouse her anger and con firm her opinions that she has been doing right. Poor sister ! I hardly know what to think about her. I never knew her to admit that she believed herself to be in the wrong. She would be for fighting till the last." " Oh, yes, indeed ! She's got the pluck of a whole army of veteran soldiers. Well, I shall not volunteer advice to her any more, much as I think she needs it. I did once get her to offer them a little more property, but she insisted upon settling it in a way that Stapleton would not and could not accept. No man that is a man would consent to be made an exception which would lessen his standing among other men." " And women too." AT THE MACFARLANES. 129 u Yes, and women too. If the law should ever be HO modified as to secure all married women's property alike, such things would be tolerable because general. But Caroline was right in refusing to accept this offer ; :or she did it herself without waiting to ask her hus- jand's views. My opinion of him, who has been grow ing upon me ever since he came into the family, is that lie is as manly in spirit as he is a son of Anak in physi cal size and strength, and that if he ever makes up his mind to fight, he'll do it with a vigor and tenacity that will surprise even Hester. To think that they now have two children and have to econom Look here, Louisa, has Hester been down there since this last baby was born ? " " No, I'm sorry to say. Alice told me to-night that she had not. I'd go there myself, but I know that my going before her would provoke her." " It's a crying shame ! But I won't talk about it any more to-night, and I'm sorry I got upon the sub ject. Yes, Tolly is a good fellow, I think, and Miss Jewell is certainly as good-looking a woman as I should ever wish to see. Perhaps they may make a match of it, eh, Charlotte ? " But Charlotte had risen and was lighting her candle. " Yes," said her father, " I think it's high time to go to bed. I'm off too." 130 WIDOW GUTHRIE. CHAPTER XV. MRS. GUTHKIE GOES TO LITTLE RIVER. ALICE went home and afterward to bed with a sense of varied uneasiness. The sight of Miss Jewell, sub dued so far below her usual vivacity, touched her with compassion, and she almost wished that she had met her advance with less coldness. It imparted a genuine grief that she could have been so far led away as to conceive for a married man an unlawful feeling, and she sin cerely hoped that if Guthrie was not mistaken in his suspicion his withdrawal from her society would re store her freedom of heart and lead her to a perfect sense of duty. Restless, beset with troublous dreams through the night, she was awakened before the dawn by the opening and closing of the front gate and the feet of a galloping horse. Roused by her, Guthrie rose, and as the rider called aloud from the ground below their bedroom window, raised the sash and asked : " Who is there 2 " " Simon, sir, Marse Jack Stapleton's man. Marster sent me up in a hurry to tell Miss Alice, Miss Calline vay sick, an' him an' Miss Calline bofe un 'em, want her to come down dar quick as she can git dar." " Alice, a messenger from Stapleton says " " I heard," answered Alice, rising and, dim as the light was, beginning to dress herself. " Duncan, please call to Marcus to get the carryall as soon as possible, and tell Martha to make a pot of coffee for me and him." MRS. GUTHRIE GOES TO LITTLE RIVER. " Oh, my dear, I wouldn't go tliere in that way, nor before I had got my breakfast. The case can't be so urgent as all that." " I must go, Duncan ; please, don't hinder me. Sis ter Caroline needs me, and that is the way to get tliere soonest. If you feel like going, you can drive me in stead of Marcus." " Of course I shall go if it becomes necessary ; but I think I'd better wait, if you insist upon starting im mediately, and know of mother what she wants done." Alice called to the messenger, and said : " Simon, tell your master that I am coining at once." " Yes'm, mistess, Marse Jacky told me to git de word, en den gallop to old miss en k'yar de news to her." " That's right ; go on and do so." When Alice was gone Outline hastened to his mother's. He found her, although not fully dressed, striding about the house issuing orders in loud, harsh language. " You Moses, I wish you'd come to me sooner, sir, when I send word that I want you right away." " Yes'm, miss, at de minute Judy give me de word " Stop it ! You go and feed and curry the carriage horses, and while they're eating do you get out the carriage and give it a good greasing ; and after you've got a bite of breakfast yourself, do you hitch up and bring out ; and mind you put some corn in a bag to take under your seat and strap on behind some fodder. Off with you. You going to stand there all day like a 132 WIDOW GUTHRIE. fool looking at me ? You Cliloe ! Come to that kitchen door. When you've got my breakfast, give Moses some coffee and wrap him up something enough to last him all day. Give him a plenty. You know what that negro's appetite is, do you hear ? " " Yes'm. Law, miss ! Mose know he ain' never gwine suffer for plenty t' eat, nor nobody else ner no nother creetur on dis place." " And lookee here, now ; I want my breakfast quick, and I don't want it burnt up. You may put a tea- spoonful more of coffee than common in the pot. You Judy 1 " The girl was standing by her side. " Ah, here you are. Get out my second-best travel ing-gown, and fetch it to me. I'll put it on here, or wherever you find me, and then you lock up all my drawers and bring me the keys. Ah, here's Duncan ! Come in, my son, come right along in. I'll have on my gown as soon as Judy fetches it. Here it is now, Fix it on me quick, and don't be awkward and fumbling about it. O Duncan, didn't I know trouble was going to come, and haven't I been prophesying it ever since she married that man ? And to think that I had to be waked up just after I had got into a little bit of a nap of sleep by that negro bawling out, that if it was the last word I had to speak I thought the house was afire and not much chance of getting out of it alive ! When I got up and got my senses, I gave him a caution for scaring me that Avay. He said he'd been to your house, and I was just going to send word to Alice that I'd go by there for her, and not have the trouble of two carriages." MRS. GUTHRIE GOES TO LITTLE RIVER. 133 " Alice has already gone, mother, with Marcus in the carryall. I couldn't get her to wait." " What ! the poor child went without her breakfast ? But Alice is young. You don't suppose the case is that bad, do you, my son ? I declare I was that flur ried and flustered I forgot to ask that negro what was the matter until he had done gone. Did he tell you ? " " He told Alice that the trouble began in her leg, and had gone to one of her breasts." " Humph, humph ! I know exactly what's the matter. She's threatened with milk fever and nothing but milk fever. I'm glad John Stapleton got scared about it and sent for me without he done it just to trouble and scare me because I know what to do with such a case, and no doctor does. Alice needn't have gone off in such a hurry, knowing no more what to do than a baby. There's no danger if it's managed right. Are you going, Duncan ? It isn't worth while without you want to. I've ordered Moses to have the carriage ready time I get breakfast. Everybody knows that at my time of life /couldn't start on such a travel as that without my breakfast, and there isn't any need of it. But if you've got business, my son, I wouldn't go. Your going wouldn't be of any earthly good." " Alice seemed to think I ought to go, and I told her I would. Of course I want to do what is right by Caroline." " Everybody knows that, Duncan, not excepting Alice, if she'd stop and think about it. Alice is head strong, though I oughtn't to say that about any man's wife and in his presence. But if I was in your place, I shouldn't be breaking off from my business and rush- 134 WIDOW GUTHR1E. ing down there when there's no need of it ; for I tell you again it's nothing but milk fever the poor child's got, and I know what to do with that, and no man does, doctor or no doctor. I'll send you word if you're wanted for anything. You Judy, have you set the table, and got everything ready ? Well, go out and tell Chloe that if she thinks it's going to take her all day to get one little breakfast for one lone person, I'll go out and help her. No, you needn't tell her that, as the poor thing hasn't had time enough, and I know she's doing her best ; but you go and help her dish up and bring in what she's got, and tell her to fry a chicken for your Marse Duncan Or would you rather have it broiled, Duncan ? " " Any way will suit me, mother, if you think I'd better not go." " Tell her to fry it, Judy, and get up a nice break fast. She needn't be in such a great hurry about that, as your Marse Duncan isn't going. Still, I reckon she has sense enough to know that nobody wants to wait too long after they are dragged out of bed of a morn ing before they can get something on their stomach. Poor Caroline ! I declare to think of what she could have done, instead of being cooped up away down there on Little River with the milk fever ! It makes me cry/" She stopped, and for a while yielded to lamentation. " I don't know when I've cried before ; but I feel some better now I've done it." She ate her breakfast in haste, yet not without some heartiness ; for she knew the importance of fortifying herself for any sort of undertaking by a substantial morning meal. The carriage appeared at the gate as MRS. GUTHRIE GOES TO LITTLE RIVER. 135 she was giving directions about what was to be done during her absence. These she broke away from, and when she was seated said : " Moses, be careful driving over the rough places. The Lord knows there's many a one of them which is a shame to the very county, and a sin to boot. If I was a man I think I could do something to regulate such things better ; but you do the best you can, and when you come to a smooth stretch, let your horses move on. There's a chance to water them between here and there, ain't there ? " " Oh yes'm, Miss." " Well, drive on. To think a woman of my age, though I'm not as old as some, but to think that with all the work and responsibilities on my hands, I have to be dragged away from it in this kind of style, and all for nothing but disobedience," The carriage moved off. At every jolt, even the lightest, its occupant gave a groan ; yet she said noth ing to impede the coachman who, she well knew, was to be trusted entirely. When on the levels she urged him mildly to make what haste he could consistently with due regard for the team. Arrived at their destina tion, they were turned through the open gate and, trot ting with decent speed, were drawn up at the opening of the simple little court. Mrs. Guthrie descended with deliberation, her face wearing an air of lofty honorable compromise, betokening that its wearer was bestowing much arid getting next to nothing. 136 WIDOW GUTHRIE. CHAPTER XYI. MRS. GUTHEIE WITH HER DEAD. THE sun was not more than half an hour high when Alice arrived. She was just in time to get the last fare well of Caroline Stapleton. One of those maladies that are peculiar to women in her condition which medical skill can neither foresee nor hinder nor even delay, had seized upon her life. She had time to express her gratitude for another sight of one so well loved and her wishes about her newly born child, then, turning her eyes back upon her husband who was kneel ing by her side, she expired, apparently without pain. One cry of anguish was made by John Stapleton ; then rising, he said : " Alice, you will know what to do. If Mrs. Guthrie should come, I would prefer not to meet her, at least to day, unless she should express a desire to see me about the funeral. In that event, I shall be within Simon's call." Then he went out. Two hours afterward when Mrs Guthrie had alight ed, the girl Clarissy came running to her and cried : " Law, old Miss ! Miss Calline done dead ! " The old lady looked at the girl fiercely, and, reach ing forth and inserting her fingers in her collar, cried : " Nigger, do you know who you're fooling with ? My strong suspicion is, you don't." The negro, screaming, tore herself away and ran back into the house, her assailant following. At the MRS. GUTHRIE WITH HER DEAD. 137 opening of the passage the latter was met by Alice, and, looking at her with yet greater ferocity, she said, in tones that she tried in vain to lower : "Alice, Alice Guthrie! tell me, tell me, tell me that that nigger has told me a lie ! You know how the things love to scare people ! For God Almighty's sake, say so, Alice ! " " O mother, would that I could ! Poor dear Sister Caroline died at half -past -eight o'clock ! " " My God ! " She sank into a chair, breathing as if she had been running for her life. " Sit down here by me, Alice. I don't think I can't think you would go that far with me ; and then you called her ' sister.' May be it's so, as that fool nig ger said. You're certain in your mind, Alice?" " Indeed, yes, mother she is already dressed and laid out in the room behind you, where she died." " In this room, right here, behind me ? " And she knocked upon the wall several times with the back of her hand. " Yes, mother." " Yes ? Well, I can't go in there yet. Alice, I want to ask you a question, and I tell you plain that I don't want, and I don't think it's any time for dodging and fooling. Can you tell me the reason why they didn't let me know sooner ? Is that man you know who I mean is he in the room behind there ? " " No, mother. Mr. Stapleton is not in the house. We were notified as soon as possible after the attack was found to be serious. Nothing could have come more unexpectedly. When I was here a week ago 138 WIDOW QUTHRIE. Sister Caroline was never more bright and cheerful, and Mr. Stapleton says she continued so until yesterday evening." "Sister Caroline! Yes, I remember you always called her sister, and I liked it, because it looked well. Say, John Stapleton ain't in there ? " " No, mother. He went out, saying we could send for him whenever he might be wanted." " The good Lord knows /don't want him, and I don't wonder at his going off and hiding himself when he knew I was coming. It's just like the whole set of such people. Who attended to the to the you know what I mean, Alice." " I have done everything that was necessary, mother, with such help as was at hand." l< Everything that was necessary," she repeated, looking around vaguely, "everything that was neces sary. I'm glad you done it, Alice ; for it has all flus tered me so, I'm afraid I couldn't. Those vines all up and along there, they look better than I was counting on when she told me she'd planted them there. What's become of the children, Alice ? " " The baby is in the room across the passage, mother ; Alan is with his father." " Well, is any chance, is anything been arranged to keep the poor little thing from perishing ? " " Oh, yes, ma'am. Our Eliza has a young baby, and gives much more nourishment than it needs. I have sent for her, and I'm sure Duncan won't object." " Object ? Of course not, not for nobody in such a case. I'm glad to hear it. Yes, I believe Judy did tell me a week or so ago that Eliza had another baby ; but MRS. GUTHRIE WITH HER DEAD. 139 I forgot it at the time. That's the only good piece of news I've heard to-day. Yes, yes, Eliza. She's one of the negroes that come by you. A rather nice, good, healthy, clean young woman, isn't she ? " " A very excellent woman, mother, and perfectly healthy." " Ah, I'm thankful to hear it. But won't somebody come and shoo away that mocking-bird in that bush out there ? Of course I know the thing don't know any bet ter, but I declare such joyful, unconcerned singing and screaming but I see it's nest of young ones there among the vines. Let it alone. I'll try to go in now if you'll help me to get up. Will you promise to stand by me, Alice ? I don't know when I have been so flus tered. You'll stand by me, will you, Alice ? " " Certainly, mother." Alice assisted her to rise. As she held out her hand the piece torn from the girl's collar fell. She looked at it and said : " How in this world did I come by that rag ? I feel right foolish. Ain't you sorry for anybody that's that foolish, Alice ? I know I am. But I suppose every body is liable to get that way sometimes." She entered and walked with studied firmness to the table on which the body was laid. When Alice re moved the handkerchief from the face, she gave a mo mentary glance, then, uttering a fearful scream, turned away, and reeling, in spite of the efforts of Alice to pre vent, plunged upon the bed on which her daughter had died. " O Caroline, Caroline ! I wish I had never been born to live to this ! " she moaned from the pillow on 140 WIDOW GUTHRIE. which her face was half buried. " I never could see how it is that people can be taken away out of this world so unexpected ! O Caroline ! if you had only loved me ! Alice, Alice Guthrie," she cried, suddenly raising herself, supported by her two hands upon the edge of the bed, one leg beneath her and the other ex tended toward the floor, her clothes in sad disorder, " did Caroline leave any words for me ? If she did, I want the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God ! That's the way they tell me they swear them in the court house. Tell me, did she ? " " Yes, mother. She asked me to tell you and Dun can that she had always loved you both very much. That was all she said ; she had no time to say any more." " And did the child know she was going to die when she sent me that message ? Come now, Alice. If there ever was a time that I didn't want to be fooled with it is now, and I beg I order you not to do it." " Her mind, mother, was perfectly clear and per fectly calm." " I tell you, child, or madam, or whatever you want yourself called, she wasn't ! She couldn't have been in her right mind to leave such a message to me with her dying mouth ! " " O mother, mother ! " "Hush!" Her voice and her face were terrific. Then arose from a chair in a corner of the room where she had been sitting an elderly woman. She was clad neatly and tastefully in simple apparel. Her face, white and but little wrinkled, gave token of sweet ness and piety which had enabled her to become re- MRS. GUTHRIE WITH HER DEAD. signed to whatever losses had befallen her. She moved softly to the table, with a hand brushed away a fly that had settled upon the face of the corpse, and, having placed back the handkerchief, was turning toward the door, when Mrs. Guthrie, in masculine tone, asked : " What woman is that ? " " That is Mrs. Stapleton, Mr. Stapleton's mother." " Ah ha ! she's here, is she ? " " Yes, madam," answered the lady, " I am here, and have been ever since shortly after dear Caroline was taken sick." " And she calls her Caroline, dear Caroline, and I suppose she'd say she was in her right mind." " Indeed I do, madam." " I didn't ask you for your opinion. I was only supposing. But /say again she wasn't ! As you seem to be talkative, I'll ask you to tell me why your son didn't send me word sooner that that child stiffening on that table there was sick and like to die? "Why didn't he ? Tell me if you know, and if you don't I'd like to have your opinion. Now, just let us have it for the curiosity of the thing." " The only reason was, madam, that not before late in the night did he believe that there was any serious danger in the case." " I don't believe it ! He didn't want me to know it, because he didn't want me here, and don't now. What was the matter with her? Can you tell me that?" "Mrs. Guthrie" " How did you know my name was Guthrie ? I never told you, nor nobody else, that I know of." 142 WIDOW GUTHEIE. " I knew it, madam, and I answer that the doctor said that it was her heart that suddenly failed." " Her heart ! He said that because he knew noth ing about it, no more than you do. They've always got some names to say, and the easiest when they're most ignorant, because they feel that they must say some thing. I say it wasn't her heart. If it was anything, it was milk fever ; and if it was, and if I had been sent for as soon as she was taken, I'd have cured her. I say, mind me, if it was anything" Her face looted almost fiendish as she said these last words. " Madam," said Mrs. Stapleton, unruffled as before, " I have no idea what you mean." " I didn't suppose that you did, and I don't care if you didn't. John Stapleton might know ; but he's out of the way, it seems." " You can see him, madam, if you wish. He is not far off, and before leaving he gave orders to be called if you asked for him. I will send for him at once." She started out, but Mrs. Guthrie rose, and, smooth ing her gown, said : " Not worth while. You needn't trouble yourself. I wouldn't speak to him if* he was here." " As you please, ma'am," replied Mrs. Stapleton, and left the room. " Alice," said Mrs. Guthrie, " it would just kill me to stay in this house much longer. It has nearly done it now. Tell that negro girl or somebody to tell Moses to bring the carriage back, right straight." Alice went out, returning in a few minutes. Sev eral times during her absence the mother took a step MRS. GUTHRIE WITH HER DEAD. 143 toward the table and recoiled. When Alice returned she was again upon the bed, anguishing with piteous lamentation, although no tears were in her eyes. " Alice," rising, she said, " when you was gone, I tried to look to look at it. But I couldn't. I'll go home and send Duncan. I'd better go, anyhow. If I was to lay my eyes on John Stapleton I might say things that better not be said. You and that old wo man will have to attend to everything. No doubt Charlotte will come down too when she hears of it. I'll try to be at the burying if I'm alive, and if I'm not, it won't make any difference. I'm glad that poor baby can be taken care of. There's that much good in all this distraction. O my Lord ! I've got to go ! " She tottered to the door, turned, looked once more toward the table, took one step, then covering her face with both her hands, screamed : " I can't ! " Rushing out of the house, she called loudly to her coachman, and as soon as he came, re-entered the car riage and was gone. Painfully shocked by the news brought by his mother, Guthrie hastily repaired to the place of mourn ing. He had never been hostile to his sister, although he had been brought up with the idea that she had been the favorite of his father, and that nothing but the affec tion and tact of his mother had prevented his being cut off from a fair portion of his estate. Addicted as he was to self-indulgence, ambitious of influence and state, he was neither mean nor vindictive. He was not without some sense of shame for his mother's undisguised inor dinate partiality ; and although he was content, and WIDOW GUTHRIE. perhaps believed himself to be entitled justly to much more than upon equal partition would have been his portion, yet he had wished, as has been seen, that Mrs. Stapleton could live more liberally, and that from some sense of justice as well as for hushing the commentings of people on the difference between her establishment and his own. John Stapleton he liked well in all respects except as a brother-in-law, and he treated him accord ingly. Stapleton always had seemed as if he was satis fied with the terms on which he had been put, and he would chat with him about crops, politics, fox-hunting, and other topics whenever they happened to be thrown together, just as he did with others of his acquaintance. He would have been respected more by Guthrie if he had shown some coldness at least in the absence of re sentment. As it was, Guthrie's feelings toward him were made up of indifference and contempt, some of which extended to his wife. When she died so unex pectedly after having lived in comparatively humble conditions, and with what he regarded as a poor married experience, he felt sorry for her, and was rather pleased than not when told by Alice that the baby had been consigned by its mother to her care until other arrange ments could be made in that behalf. The heartiness with which he consented pleased himself much, and it enabled him to look with calmness upon his dead sister's face and offer to the surviving husband as many words of condolence as he thought he deserved to get from him. The body, as she had requested, was buried in the Stapleton graveyard. The deceased had united herself with the Baptists, in whose faith her husband, though not a church member, believed. The funeral sermon MRS. GUTHlilE WITH HER DEAD. 145 was postponed for a month on account of tLe absence of the pastor and his engagement for similar service on the next three Sundays. Mrs. Guthrie was at the burial. ( "lad in deep black she stood at the head of the grave, watched with close scrutiny every action of the under taker and the friends who assisted ; and when it was over, without a word to any one present except her ton, left the ground and was driven home. " Are you going down to hear Mr. Marston's sermon on Caroline, mother ? " asked Alice the evening before the day set for its delivery. " No, Alice ; no, child. I've been through already more than I had any idea I could go through with, and to have to listen to that preacher hinting his hints about me, and be stared at by all those Baptists is more than I think I ought, at my time of life, to be expected to stand." It seemed a pity she was not there. The meeting house stood on the first rise from the river. A large congregation assembled. The woods were already in the full green of early summer ; the air was full of freshness. In the shady grove the neighings of hun dreds of horses answered to the chatterings of as many birds in the tree-tops. Inside the house the smells from gowns and other vestments modestly bedecked with flowers, the healthful sheen upon all cheeks save the very oldest, the peacefulness, the solemnity, the absence both of indifference and ostentatious sympathy, all made occasion for a fit discourse by a good man gifted with ability to improve it. The preacher, a portly man of fifty, although mainly self-educated, was an acknowl edged leader of his denomination throughout an exten- 10 146 WIDOW GUTHR1E. sive surrounding region. He made no direct allusion to the Guthrie family, but dwelt at length and with much tenderness upon the simple, virtuous life led by the departed, and the fact that the summons coming to her suddenly had not found her unprepared. Once he did speak of the sweetness with which she had endured some trials of a peculiar kind which her childhood and young womanhood had been such as to prevent her from expecting ; yet he was fain to believe that such endurance had added to the felicity of her earthly life instead of subtracting from it, and rendered her more lit for that to which she had risen. Many a tear was shed by those who in their hearts pitied all sufferers, even the obdurate, strange old woman whose mouth, if it had been there and had spoken, could have told of an anguish that, however resentful, was deeper and sharper than that of all the rest. Stapleton placed Alan at his mother's and went back to his home alone. CHAPTER XVII. MR. BOND IS RETAINED. IF Caroline Stapleton had not died it is hardly prob able that her husband ever would have concerned himself about the estate left by her father, at least, to the degree of attempting^by legal process to obtain a greater por tion of it than already had been received. It is true that sometimes he had been made to feel uncomfortable by the remonstrances of his friends, the most persistent of MR. BOND IS RETAINED. whom was Peterson Bradcly, whom he warmly loved. That gentleman ever since the marriage, at every oppor tunity that was presented, and many others improvised >y himself, had counselled, urged, scolded, denounced, and even employed several unique forms of imprecation o induce or to drive him to such endeavors as he believed it was due to his family if not to himself to exert. In all this, as Stapleton well knew, he was not actuated to any degree by resentment toward Duncan Guthrie, but oy affection toward himself and his sense of justice. " I didn't know it was in me to cry any more," said Peter, " but I had to let her run when Jack's wife died, and everything went scattering exceptin' of him, poor fellow, by his lone self, and if it hadn't been that cuss- in' come in so handy, thinkin' about how him and his wife and children has been treated by that old woman, and Dunk a-layin' around and a-lookin' on, and not a- tryin' to hender it fact is, I'm glad I learned how to cuss, if no more than for jes' my own satisfaction, I be dogamighty doggoned my skin, to dogamighty doggon- ation if I ain't." Having married out of affection alone, Stapleton and his wife, both believing, from the warning of Mrs. Guthrie beforehand, that they were to expect nothing from her to whom they supposed that everything be longed, they had been content with each other, and happy. "When led to suspect that the injustice done might be redressed, yet, averse both to notoriety and to strife, he hardly had given a serious thought to the subject of a resort to the courts. But now a great change had come, one the thought of which when not bemoaning his own loss led to self- 148 WIDOW GUTHRIE. reproaching that during his wife's lifetime he had not stood firmly for what he had become convinced were her rights. In the behavior of Mrs. Guthrie at her death, while he sufficiently understood the struggles of such a spirit against accusing itself for its neglect, yet his own resentment was kindled, both on his own ac count and for the insult thus put upon the memory of his wife. Above even these were considerations of his children, between whom, and their grandmother there had been never anything that savored either of affection or relationship. Indeed, he felt, now for the first time with bitterness, that she hated them because of their consanguinity with himself. These children, so young and helpless, seemed to appeal to him, their only de fender, to do what he could in order to obtain for them whatever, if anything, had been withheld. One thing stood in his way, at least temporarily the affection had by his wife for Alice, which had led to the consignment of the baby to her care. "Well he knew that Alice would rejoice to see both children come into possession of all their hereditary rights. But he reflected that Duncan must and would side with his mother in any issue that might be made. One night, while in the midst of a conflict of many thoughts, he decided that on the next day he would go to Clarke and consult with Thomas Tolly. Two weeks afterward, as Miss Jewell was sitting in the piazza at the Wendells' just before sunset, she was sur prised to see Bond driving by in his sulky. He raised his hat as he passed, but did not stop until arriving at Junkin's. Guthrie, who was closing his office just as he entered upon the public square, guessed that he had MR. BOND IS RETAINED. 149 come to see Miss Jewell ; for the sight of his deport- :nent toward her during the time when these two were together alone at the parties during court week, had convinced him that Bond would like to marry her. He was pleased with the thought now, although in a not very sarcastic way he had ridiculed him in her hearing. Now he really hoped that she would marry him, or in some other manner be got away. As is known to most persons who are at all familiar with judicial proceedings, there are two ways of prov ing a last will and testament; one in common form, by the oaths of the executor and one of the witnesses. This is done when the ordinary has no reason to be lieve that the paper will be contested by any who would have inherited had the testator died intestate, and is un derstood neither to prejudice their right afterward to demand probate in solemn form (in the law named per tcstes) that is, by all the witnesses, after due notice given to all the heirs at law. The will of Alan Guth- rie had been probated after the first form by the oaths of the executrix and the lawyer who had drawn it. This man, Suttle by name, a year or two afterward had removed to the State of Louisiana. The witness Braddy, Peterson's father, had deceased, and the whereabout of the other, if indeed he yet lived, was not known to any in the community. Tolly had notified Bond of his intention to institute legal proceedings, and requested him to come to Clarke for the purpose of taking to gether a preliminary study of the bearings of the suit. " I feel in good trim for this fight," said Bond, when, after supper and a visit of an hour to Miss Jewell, he had repaired to Tolly's room. " Do you know, sir, that 150 WIDOW GUTHKIE. I was about to begin on a travel to this borough when your letter came ? " " Aye ? That looks promising. I had made up my mind that you had an attraction here stronger than any law matters could impart, and I am glad to believe that it has put you in such case for our joint work. You're going to tell me all about it ? " " Yes. What there is to tell. It is not precisely as I see you suspect from the promptness with which you congratulate me. However, I'll let you into a thing or two after we've talked over our case. I was glad for his sake, as well as yours and mine, to hear that the man (Stapleton, I believe you said his name was) had de cided to move in behalf of his rights, although I was very sorry to hear of the death of the poor fellow's wife. It's a pity he didn't take action during her life time. What sort of a man was that lawyer, Suttle, and do you know whether or not he is still living ? " " I don't know whether he is alive or not. He was a poor pettifogger, I've been told, and made a scant living by undertaking such work as men of respectable standing would refuse. He went from here to Louisiana. I've never mentioned the subject to Mr. Jamison, but Braddy, our client's most active friend, says that his father, who v was one of the witnesses to the will, told him that Mr. Guthrie first applied to Mr. Jamison to write it, and that he put him off because he did not believe that, at the time of his application, he had disposing memo ry. My notion is, after seeing what effect will be pro duced by the citation to probate in solemn form for it may induce Guthrie to drive his mother to the pro posal of a settlement, but if not then to put in a bill MR. BOND IS RETAINED. 151 in equity, a resort we'll have to get to anyhow event ually." " " She'd swear it out of court ; a matter of course." " I don't think so. My opinion of the old lady is that she is as truthful as she's audacious. She has the courage of Semiramis or Catharine of Russia. What she did, if anything fraudulently, she is just the woman to maintain that she had a right, law or no law, to do ; and I don't believe that she would deny any action of her own, at least under oath. Even if she would, Guthrie wouldn't let her. If he should suspect such a thing and foresee, as he must, that we would assail her veracity, he would try to drive her into a compromise. The citation will excite him intensely ; for he well knows the feeling in the county about the way his sister was treated, and that a special jury would sift the case of every particle of chaif before they would render a ver dict against these little children. Guthrie is very de sirous of popular favor, and then I take him to be a man of his word. Besides, he has inherited his mother's courage." " You think so, Tolly, do you ? " the other asked, smiling. " So, so ! I know nothing of the dam in the matter of such characteristics ; but, judging from her whelp, I should not be surprised at any means to which she would resort to screen her evil deeds from detection. However, more of that after a while." When they had discussed the several points in the case and those likely to arise, Bond said : " Well, Tolly, you are leading counsel, and, as you say, we will need a bill anyhow ; I suggest that the sooner we file it the better. A broadside upon these 152 WIDOW GUTHRIE. people, so courageous, may be the most fit way of open ing upon them. As to the pluck of Mr. Duncan Guth- rie, it has become my duty and privilege to try if I can find out of what stuff it is made." Tolly's look showed that he was startled by these last words. " I spoke somewhat sooner on that subject than I had intended, though I was not going away until I did. I was led to it by what you said about the courage that had come down to Guthrie from his ancestors. It made me speculate momentarily whether or not among them in the times of the claymore and its companion weap ons of warfare it often, or occasionally, or even one time happened that one of the blood insulted a woman who had no male defender near by." He smiled as if he had put to an antiquarian a ques tion concerning a matter of history that may have been overlooked by others who had sought to save from ob livion a simple yet not wholly uninteresting incident of the past. " I suppose I can guess to what you allude, although your words and the manner of their utterance surprise me much." "How so?" " I've been so busy with this case and others that I've not been to see Miss Jewell lately ; but, meeting her a few nights ago at the Macfarlanes, I noticed that she was very serious, a thing unusual with her at such a time. She said to me that she had thought of telling me something, but had decided not to do so. But I did not suppose that it was a matter of grave impor tance." MR. BOND IS RETAINED. 153 " Yes, but it was. I know all about it." " Did she tell you ? " " No ; I got it from Dunbar. Miss Jewell wrote to her sister about it. The mail that brought the letter had one for me, in which, altogether against my hope and my expectation, and even against that of Dunbar and his wife, she rejected my suit. Dunbar, good fellow that he is, told me the reason, which was that she had been so grossly insulted by Guthrie that she didn't feel that she had the right to marry me or any body else." " I suspected that Guthrie had had something to do with the matter that was on her mind ; because I no ticed on the occasion referred to that he had nothing to say to her. Besides, he was more grave than I ever saw him, and, indeed, seemed not at his ease." " And his wife behaved similarly, eh ? I know of that too. There was where Guthrie made his biggest mistake after his first. Desperate as he was, I sup pose he regarded it his best expedient to save himself from being spurned by that good woman forever and ever." " Fact is, I've been rather uneasy, but not very much so, since a little party we had in Mrs. Guthrie's woods some time back, having heard that, after I had left, Guthrie's wife became so worried by his neglect of her self and his devotion to Miss Jewell that she left the place abruptly, followed by Guthrie, who seemed to have been brought back suddenly to his senses. Still, I have not been suspecting that any insult had been offered by the fellow. If I had, I should have looked into it. I had no idea that he was so openly audacious." 154 WIDOW GUTHRIE. " There's been some talk, Tolly, hasn't there, about that party some little talk, in undertone, as it were ? " " ]STo ; that is, not much, so far as I have heard. But I've been busy at my office, and in reading up in my room, and have been out but little. My friend Braddy says he has heard some whisperings, and that he announced himself ready to fight anybody who had anything to say against Miss Jewell. But really, Bond, I've thought almost nothing about it, because I've sup posed that if anything serious had been in it, Miss Jewell would have communicated with me, whom she knows to be her friend." " The difficulty, my dear fellow, is that she couldn't communicate such a thing to a man." " Is she aware that you know about it ? " " No. Do you think she's been much hurt by these whisperings ? " He rose and, putting his hands in his pockets, walked up and down in the room. " Well, no, Bond, I hardly think so. It is an exact ing society here ; but it is not gossipy, that is, among those who lead in it, and they are, or they mean to be, entirely just. But for the attitude of Guthrie's wife, I should have felt little or no disquiet. She is as true as steel. Guthrie has always been a forward beau with first one young woman, then another, and I've known him to get a sharp rebuff more than once when he was too free in his manners. I am confident that his wife has been pained sometimes by such unbecoming mani festations ; but I do not believe that she's a jealous- minded woman at all, naturally. I suspect, from what you tell me, that, in order to get excused by her, Guthrie ME. BOND IS RETAINED. 155 has persuaded her that he withdraws from Miss Jewell's society voluntarily. No> Bond, I do not believe that she has been, or will be hurt seriously." " Seriously ! The idea that she, or any other honor able woman should be hurt at all by such a man ! But we shall see. Miss Jewell has the same opinion of Mrs. Guthrie that you have. I have heard her say myself, and she wrote to her sister in this connection, that she regards her as the best woman in Clarke. At first she suspected that she might be a little jealous of her among other young women, but she had seemed to have got entirely over such a feeling if it ever had existed, and therefore she was the more cordial with Guthrie, espe cially when in her presence. Until that day, and until that moment, she did not dream that Guthrie had any notions that were not entirely honorable, and nothing could have so amazed her as, prompted by the devil within him, he whispered that he loved her and was ready to make any sacrifice for her sake. When she found that she was mistaken, she rose, and was almost in a run toward his wife, meaning, convulsed as she was with horror, to acquaint her with his audacious treachery to her, when right there, in that man's presence, another insult was inflicted that nobody but a dastard would not have made atonement for ! Yes, sir ; that is just what he has done ! He has allowed that good woman to be lieve that he has suddenly discovered that Miss Jewell was not a fit associate for either of them. My Lord ! " Tolly remained silent, as he walked excitedly about the room. After a short while, resuming his seat, he said, as if momentarily disposed to change to a subject more agreeable : 156 WIDOW GUTHRIE. 'Tolly, I've got some good whisky in my trunk. If I go and bring it here, will you take a drink ? " " I think not no'w, Bond." " No ? Well, then, I won't. "We Augusta fellows are in the habit of taking with us when we go into the country some of the article. Danger of coming up with bad water, you know, or indigestible food, or being snake bit, or dog bit, or cow horned, in benighted regions. I suspect you country lawyers feel that you must do the like, especially when you go south." " We are not very particular as to how the compass points whither we are traveling when arranging our outfit." " I would have guessed as much. Well, the thought of it just then, though not often do I imbibe, was sug gested to me. I'm satisfied to go without it. Now I'll tell you a little bit of romance. You like romance, Tolly? You look as if you did. Indeed, you rustic boys in your greenness I mean to say, innocence you have it young, quite young, and you keep on having it, till finally you get caught, and then you settle down to business. As for me, although country born myself, I never felt any particular tendency in that way until last winter. Lookee here, if we won't take a drink, let us at least have a cigar. When I'm talking business I never think of smoking ; but whenever I drop into the senti mental, or rise into it, however it may be properest to say, I feel like trying the weed. I notice that you bump kins, when you can't smoke, are always chewing. Even the judge, though he's first rate in dispatch of business, has a spit-box by him behind the bench. Now for my romance, if you want to hear about it. Do you ? " MR. BOND IS RETAINED. 157 " I'm eager ; man, don't you see that I am on thorns ! " " There is where I wanted to get yon before I began. It was brief, and so shall be its story." Having got on a good headway of smoke, he laid his cigar upon the table, leaned back in his chair, clasped his hands neatly on his breast, as if to put himself in be coming romantic attitude, and began : " Once upon a time, it was in the fall of the year and nigh unto the latter end thereof, a young person whose sex I will leave you to infer, arrived in the city of Augusta, having come from a distant State, intimating that it was the State of Massachusetts, and from the town of St. Botolph " " What town ? " " St. Botolph : I called it calmly, but distinctly, as I think." " It wasn't in the geography I studied." " Perhaps not ; but am I to be made believe that here is a Bachelor of Arts, and a lawyer, eminent, how ever young, who didn't know that Boston was an abbre viation of Botolpfts Town, so named from that excel lent, devout, and illustrious saint ? " " How long have you known it ? " " Ever since the arrival of the emigrant hereinbefore referred to." " I see ; proceed, if you please. It has already be come not only personally, but historically interesting. Proceed, proceed ! " " Oh, you put me out with questions exposing your ignorance, and I am driven to be even briefer than I intended. The truth is that the lady for I saw from 158 WIDOW GUTHRIE. your looks tliat you had divined it to be a female had been in Augusta not more than a month before I fell in love with her, and had no more discretion than to go to courting her straightway, not having more than a thou sand dollars to my credit in bank, although my pros pects for making more than a living seem reasonably good. After several months she admitted that she rather thought she liked me right well, but that she wouldn't marry anybody, at least for some time to come. I argued the case with her as well as I knew how, never having been instructed in the prolegomena of lovers' profession, and I had good help from her sister and her brother-in-law, who are the very best friends I have in Augusta. These two tried to persuade their sister to live with them, as both parents are deceased, but she an nounced her intention to work for her own living, and accepted the offer of her cousin, Mr. Wendell, to teach in his academy. At your March term she said that she would give me a definite answer to my persistent suit at her forthcoming vacation, which she expected to spend with the Dunbars, and she intimated that it would be favorable. Last week I got a letter saying she would not leave Clarke this summer, or if she did, it would be to linger at Augusta only for a few days on her way .back to Boston. Then she added that she had nothing to say regarding the proposal that I had made, except to request that I would never refer to it again. So I went to Dunbar, and learned what I have told you. I was intending to make a break for this remote inland village when your letter came, and so here I am, ready both for a lawsuit and a fight. That's all. If you hadn't interrupted me, I've no doubt I could have made MR. BOND IS RETAINED. 159 it more interesting, not to say to a moderate degree 1 lirilling. My sakes ! My cigar has gone clean out ! " Seizing it, lie sucked as if for life. " No, not quite out." " What was the result of the interview to-night ? " " Rejection, out and out ; but, Tolly, tears were in her eyes when she said the words, and she admitted that she had made up her mind shortly after leaving Augusta to accept me, but that circumstances had forced her to change it When pressed to let me know the - cause, she answered that she could not. But I know ; i or she wrote to Mrs. Dunbar that when she found how poorly qualified she was to prevent a man's making to her a dishonorable proposal, she did not feel that she had the right to marry me or any other true man. Good God, Tolly! Good God, man! What can't a woman do and endure ! Why, what answer do you suppose she sent to her sister when she asked her why she had not revealed Guthrie's villainy to his wife ? It was partly because of the notoriety that might come of it, but mainly because she could not bear the thought of making an innocent woman whom she admired and re spected as miserable as herself. The dog said to her, as preliminary to the insult, that he did not love his wife, in which words I've not a doubt that he uttered a lie ! I told her that I would not take her rejection after what she admitted, and I appealed to her to deal with me with greater candor, saying that with any trouble or sorrow that was upon her mind, I sympathized more deeply than anybody else could. I could make no im pression on that line-, but I could see that she doubted if what she was doing, or rather refusing to do, was en- 160 WIDOW GUTHRIE. tirely right to either of us. But to think that things can remain in this state ! " " It is not easy to see what you can do, Bond, or what would be best to be done. I think Miss Jewell is wrong in the view she takes. If you and she were to marry, the whole thing would die out at once." " And the insult, the silent slander in allowing these whisperings, as you call them, to go uncontradicted, and even to be accredited by his virtuous withdrawal of him self and his wife from her company, the distrust among good people kindly and sorrowful all these to be passed over with humble thankfulness that they, by the mere accident of marriage with me, were scotched short of effecting the ruin of a good woman's reputation ! By the ever-living God ! even if I didn't love her, as I do, related as I am to her family, I should feel myself bound to see her righted ! As it is, I am going to make the effort to do it speedily, and before she finds that I know anything about it." "I don't see how you are to proceed, Bond. If Guthrie is called to account, of course he'll plead that Miss Jewell had mistaken the intent of his words. He'll feel that he owes that to the safety of his own domestic peace." " Aye ! he may lie as much as he pleases to the good woman whose happiness depends upon her trust in him, but if he lies to me, I'll put my brand upon him and then stand him up in the market-place for the scorn of all men and all women ! " " Such as that could not be done with a man like Guthrie without risk of fatal consequences to one of you or both." INQUIRIES ABOUT ALAN GUTHRIE'S WILL. " That is the calculation I have figured. But, Tolly, v/hen a man finds himself on a certain line of duty, if lie is a man really, he can't step aside from it because of apparent dangers. However, one case at a time. I Lad not thought to get upon this to-night. Let's go back to the other." They conferred late, and not another allusion was made to Miss Jewell that night. CHAPTEE XYIII. INQUIRIES ABOUT ALAN GUTHKIE's WILL. AT that period applications for administration upon the estates of persons deceased, besides publica tion in one or more of the gazettes of the State, were required to be posted at the door of the court-house. A few days after the event narrated in the foregoing chapter, simultaneously with their appearance in The Southern Recorder, a weekly newspaper published in the town of Milledgeville, then the capital of the State, two notices signed by the clerk of the Inferior court of the county sitting as a court of Ordinary were placed upon the court-house door. One purported to be an application by John Stapleton for letters of administration upon the estate of Caroline Stapleton, lately deceased, and the other by the same for letters of guardianship of the property of Alan and Caro line Stapleton, her minor children. Men, knowing the law that married women could hold no property 11 1G2 WIDOW GUTHRIE. separate from their husbands except by special con tract, or by settlement on the part of persons from whom such property had been acquired by purchase or testamentary paper, speculated how it was that Staple- ton should apply for administration upon an estate already his own, and for guardianship for his children who had none. Mr. Macfarlane, happening to be on the street, and hearing the notices discussed, went to the court-house, and after reading them turned away without remark and went back to his home. On the contrary, Guthrie, when he had read them, said to two or three men who were inspecting them at the same time : " It looks as if Jack Stapleton wanted to make him self more conspicuous since he has become a widower." He turned, and, entering the clerk's office, said : " Anderson, did Stapleton make personal applica tion for letters of administration and guardianship, notices of which I see out at the door, or was it made by attorney 2 " " No, Mr. Guthrie, Jack never applied. Mr. Tolly and that other young lawyer from Augusta Bond, I believe they call him they were in here looking over the records, and this morning Mr. Tolly came back and made the application for Jack. Look to me like, Mr. Guthrie, Jack's going to put himself to useless expense, though I don't know, of course, anything about or much about the law." " That is just what he is doing. You say Bond was with Tolly ? I noticed he was in town, but I thought lie came in to see that woman at Wendell's, the school master." INQUIRIES ABOUT ALAN GUTHRIE'S WILL. 163 " Fine-looking, handsome woman. They tell me die's very fond of gentlemen's society." " Perhaps she is, Anderson. I know very little of Jier. Did Bond seem to be taking a part in Tolly's investigations ? " "Oh, yes, sir. They looked over the books and things together, and he seem to be wanting to study into 'em much as Mr. Tolly." "What records specially however, I won't ask that question." Then he went out, The blow upon him was pain ful as it was sudden. The appearance of Bond with Tolly convinced him that they had instituted a case with expectation that it would be strongly contested, lie was lawyer enough not to doubt that an assault was intended upon the will of his father, and from what his mother lately, for the first time, had told him of the circumstances of its execution, he foresaw that such an assault would be dangerous. Combative by nature, his first impulse was to proceed to Tolly's office, denounce both Stapleton and the threat thus sent out against his mother, and warn Tolly and his colleague to keep them selves carefully within the limits of what was due to their client in prosecution of the case. A little reflec tion convinced him of the imprudence that would be in such action. Going to his office, he remained for half an hour reflecting upon what first movement it was proper to make. Coming out again, he noticed Peter son Braddy, who, having borrowed a chair from within the court-house, was sitting and leaning back against the wall near the door. Stopping and looking in an other direction, he overheard the following : 164: WIDOW GUTHRIE. " You're in town early, Pete. Through your busi ness a'ready and taking a rest ? You look as comfort able as a bee on a rasher of watermelon." " Mornin', Mr. Wicker. Just about, if not comfort- abler. I never had any business. I jes come to hear the racket and see the fun." " What racket ? Everything seems to be about as quiet as common." " Read them papers above thar," said he, pointing with his thumb backward and upward. After reading the notices, the man said : "Why, what do they mean? I thought Jack's property all belonged to him, and I didn't know that his children had any." " So it does, what they is thar ; but it ain't all thar, Mr. Wicker." "Where is it, then?" "Now that I can't answer that is, not egzact. Some of it's in land, and some of it's in niggers, and some in town lots, and some's in horses and mules and stock of various kind, and nobody knows what's in money a-drawin' of interest ; but my suspicion is it's a pile." Guthrie turned away and moved across the street, Braddy the while looking at his retreating form as if pleased with the sight. " Pete, what does it mean ? " asked Mr. Wicker. " Why, sir, to my opinion, it means no less, and it means no more than that man's mother you see walking so lofty yonder across the squar', that she have been keepin' one of the old man Guthrie's children out of her sheer of her lawful father's property, exception of sich INQUIRIES ABOUT ALAN GUTHRIE'S WILL 165 driblets as she's been o' mind to allow her ; and now that child's dead, and Jack Stapleton, \vhat by good rights he ought to done long ago, he have made up his mind that him and his children sha'n't be kept out o' thar right any longer if he can help it. It's to my opinions that it's that them notices means you see up thar, Mr. Wicker, neither more nor neither less." " But I thought the property was all left to her to do as she pleased with it." " Yes, sir ; but you see it never pleased her to do right about it. Thar's the p'int, Mr. Wicker ; and more than that, they have been people and they is people that believes when the old man Guthrie signed that will he wer'n't strong enough in his mind to make his signin' what the law allow, and that's another p'int. You see I'm jes a-talkin' at randuoms, as the sayiri' is, Mr. Wicker, and a-expressin' of my opinions, which I sup pose everybody's liable to do that much." " Well, if Jack has such rights, I, for one, will be glad to see him get them. It never seemed to me to be right for him and his family to have to live so close and managy, and his wife's brother to have everything he wanted." " Yes, sir, yes, sir ; I've heard varous make them same remarks. Well, I jus' thought I'd ride in and peruse around a while. I think I'll go back to Tom Tolly's office and jaw him a little siege before I go back home." When, after a brief call, he had gone from Tolly's, Dond said : " I was much impressed by that man. He's a sen sible, generous, brave fellow." 166 WIDOW GUTHR1E. " That he is ; I know no one more so. He loves Stapleton with all his heart, and he'll be worth more to us than Stapleton himself in working up the case. He dislikes Guthrie, and has some reason ; but that consid eration, if it had any influence, would tend to make him keep silent. He is actuated only by his affection for Stapleton, whom ever since his marriage he has been urging to do what is now being done. He's an ardent admirer of Miss Jewell." 4k " Bless his heart for that ! Oh, yes, it is plain to see that he is full of sense and spirit. You've got Fon- blanque's Equity f Yes, I see." Guthrie, finding on inquiry that Mr. Macfarlane had been on the street but had gone back home, decided to repair to his own. " Alice," he said, after reaching there, " it looks as if mother were going to have some trouble with Jack Stapleton. I saw on the court-house door just now a couple of notices, in one of which he has made to the Court of Ordinary application for letters of adminis tration on Caroline's estate, as he terms it, and in the other for guardianship of the children. Anderson, the clerk, informs me that Tolly and that man Bond, he believes, are at the head of it. I knew Bond had been in town for some days, but I supposed that he came to see that Jewell woman." She made no answer, but looked as if she was sol emnly pondering his words. " I wonder at Tolly," he continued, " not giving me some sort of notice that such proceedings were going to be had, knowing the interest I must have in the case. I wouldn't be surprised if Charlotte has floored him, o INQUIRIES ABOUT ALAN GUTHRIE'S WILL. 167 and so he feels as if he must get revenge out of some of the family." " I hardly think, dear, that Mr. Tolly is capable of such as that. I suppose that he feels as if he ought, as his counsel, to keep his client's secret." " That duty would not have been at all violated if lie had known what was common professional courtesy. What do you think of Jack Stapleton making an under hand attack upon mother when his child is being taken care of in the house of her son ? " he said petulantly, already angry at the thought that he could not make her views accord with his own. " My dear husband, I am as little disposed to sus pect Mr. Stapleton of underhand conduct as Mr. Tolly of unprofessional. The notices you speak of, it seems, are on the court-house door, where every body can see them who cares to. I can not imagine that he means to do any wrong, or that he does not feel grateful for the care that temporarily is bestowed upon his child by you and me. If lie did, or if he thought that you would so suspect, I really believe that he'd make haste to procure a nurse and send for the child." " You entirely mistake that creature ! " " I don't think so." In the few domestic disputes between these two, the wife had been able to hold her own reasonably well, be cause of being always in the right. The results had been some subdual of arbitrariness on his part, and in voluntary increase of spirit on hers. Decline, resisted as it had been, in the respect which she had for his char acter, had been leading her slowly toward forming and 168 WIDOW GUTHRIE. expressing her opinions and corresponding indifference to what he might think. She had been led by Charlotte Macfarlane to doubt the full verity of what he had been saying lately about Miss Jewell ; for Charlotte, observ ing the coldness with which Miss Jewell had been treated by her, had mildly remonstrated and assured her that in her judgment that young woman was en titled to the very highest respect from all, women and men. The bare thought that her own husband had maltreated a woman so situated terrified her, because there was danger of her having to postpone her own grief and shame to those of a greater sufferer. That very day she had met Miss Jewell and Charlotte togeth er in one of the stores, and had exchanged such civil ity as she must not neglect. She had looked into her eyes, and it made her sick at heart to believe that in them she could see innocence as unspotted as that she felt in her own being. She had come back to her home longing, if but for a brief time, to get away from her surroundings and go upon a visit to her father's house. Such things are bound, if not ended, to become fatal to conjugal peace and dangerous to conjugal love. It was on Outline's tongue to say something con temptuous about his wife's defense of Tolly and Staple- ton, but he withheld it, and, taking a chair near the end of the piazza, seated himself and ruminated what he was to do in a case wherein he knew that he would not have her support, which, if he had had it, he would not have counted at its worth, but which it now pained and angered him to be without. It occurred to him again that this woman, meek as she was, needed to be treated INQUIRIES ABOUT ALAN GUTHRIE'S WILL. 169 with more carefulness and conciliation than he used to believe to be necessary. Shortly afterward, while he was in such a reverie, Simon, the man who had brought the news of Mrs. Stapleton's last illness, came riding a mule along the carriage-way. Arrived at the steps, lie dismounted, and, holding to the bridle, gave humble salutation and said : "I 'feared to let my mule go loose o' de bridle, Marse Dunkin, fear he tromple on Miss Alice bushes en things. Can't you please call one dem boys or gals 'bout de house, en let me give 'em dis here paper I fotch from Marse Jacky's. I be nrach obleeged to yer ef yer will, Marse Dunkin." He removed his hat and took out a letter. Guthrie, descending a couple of steps, reached forth, and when he had opened and read it, said : " All right, Simon that's your name, isn't it ? " " Yes, sir, marster. My mammy she name me dat atter her daddy, en dee been callin' me dat ev'y sence I 'members. Yes, sir, dat so, jes like I tell yer, dough my granddaddy, big Simon dee called him, he been dead en gone dis long time. Yes, sir ; dat so." "That'll do. Take your mule behind there and tell Marcus I say to show you where to put him. I'll reflect upon your master's note, and may send an an swer by you." Calling to Alice, who had gone within the house, he said: " Here's a note from Stapleton. Kead it and say what you think." The note read thus : 170 WIDOW GUTHRIE. "June 20, 1828. " To Duncan Guthrie, Esq. " DEAR SIR : I have been advised that my children may have more interest in the estate of their grand father Guthrie than what was received by their mother, and I am about to begin such legal proceedings as may ascertain if this be so. It may or may not be necessary to give you my assurance that the investigation will be conducted with entire fairness. I write now especially to say that, embarrassed as I am, and as you may be, by the fact that one of these children is now in your fam ily, my intention is to send for it as soon as I can find a woman qualified to take care of it. This I have a prospect of doing very shortly. " Respectfully yours, " JOHN STAPLETON." " The fellow has some more grace than I gave him credit for, eh ? " He felt that he could not say less when his judg ment had been so soon set aside. Quickly, after read ing the letter, Alice said : " O Duncan, this must not be ! Poor Sister Caro line an hour before her death asked me, provided you were willing, to take care of her baby until it was old enough to be put into other hands without risk. I an swered her that I was sure that you would not object, as you did not. The dear little thing is doing very well, and I feel as if it would be almost a sin to let her run the risk of going to another nurse. If it is likely to be embarrassing to anybody though I can't see how such a thing is possible let me go up to Broad River. You promised me, you remember, that I might make a INQUIRIES ABOUT ALAN GUTHRIE'S WILL. good long visit home this summer, and I am sure that both father and mother would be glad for me to take the baby with me. Surely the business will not require a very long time to be brought to some sort of settle ment, and I He well knew what she would have said if she had continued to speak, and, instead of being displeased, he was rather gratified by it. For he was ill at ease, and lie felt that if his wife were absent for some weeks, he might be less embarrassed by contingencies, which, how ever indistinctly, he could not but expect to arise. Therefore he answered promptly : " Certainly, my dear Alice. Jack Stapleton needn't have been so very touchy and so formal, especially if it be true, as he says, that he seeks only a fair investiga tion. He shall have that as far as I can help to give it to him. You know I've always wanted mother to do more for them than she has. I shall advise her to pro pose such a settlement as the fellow ought to accept, whether he will or not. The property is mother's to do with as she pleases, but I have always thought that she ought to have given them more of it. I rather think your suggestion a good one, although I shall be deuced lonesome here by myself. It would not be embarrass ing to me, nor with all his talk would it be to Staple- ton ; but it might be so to you to remain here with the baby pending his ' investigations,' as he calls them ; and of course it would not do to separate so young a child from a nurse that suits her as well as Lizy does. So I consent for you to go. 'The case isn't going to take very long, if the other party will come to a reasonable set tlement, that is, if I can get mother as I hope I can 172 WIDOW GUTHR1E. to the point of proposing one. I don't want to have her bedevilled long by Jack Stapleton, and I shall give Tolly and his colleague that Bond notice that they have a care how they refer to her in their pleadings, and what they may have to say to a jury, if it ever gets there." " Duncan " she said, as if she had not been attending to his latest words, " suppose you shut up the house and stay with mother while I am gone. I know she'll want you to." " Yes ; no doubt of that. I'll at least take my meals there, and see how it will be as to sleeping. I'll try it a night or so here. Will you write to Stapleton ? I shall not." " Yes, if you think it best. Perhaps it would be. I shall make no allusion to the first part of his letter, of course." " Write what you please, my dear." She wrote a brief note, saying that she was about to leave home in order to make a visit of some weeks to her parents, and that she considered it decidedly best to take the child along with her, as she was doing well in every respect. As for what arrangement it might seem desirable to make hereafter, that was a matter that he might consider during her absence. " I think it is all right, Alice," said Guthrie, hand ing her back the note when he had read it. "You write," he added, smiling, "as if you were going right away." " I think I'll go day after to-morrow. It will take me this afternoon to put away things, and I must get some to-morrow that the baby may need. You'll want INQUIRIES ABOUT ALAN GUTHKIE'S WILL. 173 to spend this evening with mother, no doubt, and I'll go with yon to tell her good-by." " Oh, no," he answered quickly. " I shall not trou ble her with it until you go. I am bound to have a time of it with her, and I'll wait till you are away, unless some fool runs up there and tells her about it before hand. I don't believe I'd go there if I were in your place. She might suspect from your sudden departure that something was wrong, and I'd Jiave to tell her lie- fore I am ready. I shall go to Uncle Dennis's to-morrow and advise with him first." " Then I'll go to work and get off to-morrow." " I don't know if that isn't best, Alice. I must tell her some time to-morrow, and I'll feel thankful that you are out of hearing of the bother and the bustle." This arrangement lifted much of his anxiety. Dur ing the rest of the day he seemed to be more as he used to be, affectionate in his words and manners, and anx ious to assist wherever he could in her preparation for departure. AVhen she was through with all that night, he asked her to play. He sat upon a sofa and looked at her with unwonted pride and fondness. Indeed, lie loved her dearly, and now he wished in his heart that all his actions toward her had been such that she would know, at this very time, how fondly he did love her, and that he could feel that she would be as eager and as thankful to return to him as now she was to visit the home from which he had taken her. Feelings of appre hension and sadness fell upon his heart deeper than at any time before in all his life. Her value to him seemed inestimably higher than ever as, sitting aside and shad ing his eyes, he loqked at her and thought how beautiful, 174 WIDOW GUTHRIE. and pure, and true-hearted she was, and how long would seem the separation that would begin to-morrow. Yet he gave no expression to his thoughts in words. He made no objection when at last she said she was fatigued and would retire. Rising, he closed the piano for her. After she had gone out, he sat for a few minutes longer, and then followed her. The next morning, aft er he had seen her go off so like a young child fondly re turning to the bosom of her parents, he went to the same seat in the parlor whereon he had sat the night be fore and shed tears. How inconsistent and incomprehen sible is this human frame ! When he had dried his eyes and looked around him and felt the solitude, the thought came upon him that he was enduring more than he deserved, and he accepted without resistance the relief, poor as it was, that came from an indefinite yet conscious sense of resentment. It was too late for him to unlearn the wrong teachings that he had been having all his life. He rose, dressed himself afresh, then walked with vigorous, swift step into the town. CHAPTER XIX. GUTHRIE CONFERS WITH HIS UNCLE. v WISHING to have some conference with Mr. Mac- farlane before acquainting his mother with the no tices and their probable meaning, Guthrie looked for him on the street. A servant whom he happened to meet answered his inquiry by saying that his master GUTHRIE CONFERS WITH HIS UNCLE. 175 had ridden out to one of his plantations and would not return before noon. So he decided to wait and dine at Junkin's. He sat nearly opposite Tolly and Bond. Less conversation than usual was held during the meal. Guthrie occasionally, while making or listening to some insignificant remark, looked at these two as if he would notify them that whatever they had to do or say at any time about any matter in which he might feel himself to be concerned there were limits which they would do well to observe. They ignored, if they noticed such menaces, and Bond particularly spoke with a hilarity that none of his acquaintances there had suspected to be in his nature. Few words were addressed between them directly. Before the rest had finished, Guthrie, rising from the table, said : " Mr. Bond, I see you are becoming quite familiar in our village ; I am glad that, small as it is, it has attractions to draw you at other times besides court terms." " Yes, Mr. Guthrie, thank you ; I like Clarke some how, and then, through our friend Mr. Tolly, I have been put into some little business." " With promise of satisfactory condemnation money and good fees for you both, I trust." " Yes, sir, reasonable." " In cases of very uncertain contingencies I think it is always well to start with a good retainer ; don't you?" " Oh, yes, when a client is able to respond ; but when not I am content to look mainly at a contingent fee, espe cially when I suspect that he has not been treated quite fairly." 176 WIDOW GUTIIRIE. " The difficulty is that clients so often claim that to be their case." " True, sir ; still, occasionally one on its bare presen tation has marks that seem rather distinct." " "Will you be here some days ? " " One longer, certainly ; most probably but one." Bowing generally, Guthrie then went out. " That was about as much talk as he has ever honored me with," whispered Bond. "He has a good, clear voice, and puts his w r ords together very well very well, indeed. Do you think that he suspects what is up ? I take it that he does." " Oh, yes ; no doubt of it. He has seen or heard of the notices. If he hadn't I doubt if he had come in here to dine, knowing that he would meet us both. He wants to give notice also." " Yes ; well, we'll admit its service." An extended conversation was had between Guthrie and Mr. Macfarlane. The latter, as we have seen, had forborne to offer his counsel to Mrs. Guthrie except upon occasions whereat he felt that he would be inexcusable to remain silent. For she had always shown impatience at his interference, although occasionally acting in ac cordance with his suggestions. Mrs. Macfarlane Guth rie did not even ask for when he called at the house. She had never so much as thought of offering to her sister or her nephew remonstrance or advice, thankful to live upon terms of respectable friendship, with little show of natural affection on either side. " Duncan," said his uncle, among other things " the case, if these young men understand how to conduct it, will seem to outsiders an ugly one, whatever are to bo GUTHRIE CONFERS WITH HIS UNCLE. 177 the difficulties from lapse of time and the absence of direct testimony. The public, as I told her more than once, has always been against your mother in the esti mate she puts upon John Stapleton, and the treatment that her hostility to him led her to inflict upon poor Caroline. I doubt if in this Avhole county there's a young man who is held in higher estimation, and a jury would go as far as the rulings of the court would allow to give weight to every species of evidence that will be offered in support of his claim. Everybody believes that your father, if he had been of entirely clear rnind, wouldn't have made a will by whose provisions one of his children could be made rich and the other dependent wholly upon accident. What sort of a man is this Bond ? Tolly, they say, is a young man of much prom ise. I've heard him speak two or three times. He seems always to have studied his cases, and he is cer- ainly eloquent. What about the other ? " " I know little about him, Uncle Dennis, and I never saw him until our March term, when he had a ittle case that was settled. I've been surmising that lis coming here was mainly to see Miss Jewell." " It seems to me, Duncan, from what I have heard, not here at home, but outside, that you and that young lady some time back were a little imprudent in your deportment toward each other. A man and a woman, particularly when one of them is married, can't be too guarded in their intercourse." " Possibly we may have been, uncle ; but there's been nothing very serious. I found that Alice didn't like the woman. She saw it too, and that ended it." Nothing more was said about Miss Jewell. Mr. 12 178 WIDOW GUTHRIE. Macfarlane ended as he had begun, by urging a settle ment, and that it be effected as speedily as possible. " John Stapleton is not going to be very exacting ; and you see from his application for guardianship that although entitled by law to prosecute this claim in his own behalf, he intends that whatever he may recover, or at least a part, shall go to his children. He is not ex acting, I repeat ; but he is firm, and he is popular. I have little or no influence with your mother ; and I don't know to w T hat extent yours may lead if you de cide that my suggestions are of any importance." " I have tried several times, iincle, during Caroline's life-time, to get mother to do more for her, but always without success, except that she offered her some prop erty for her separate use that Caroline refused to ac cept." " And was right in doing it." " I don't say she was not, uncle ; still, if she had, it might have been better." " No ; it would not. It would have made it appear that Caroline was contented to see her husband re garded as a mere tenant by courtesy, which, sensible Avoman that she was and true-hearted wife, she was de termined should never be. Duncan, acquaintance with that very fact adds to the feeling that is already in men's minds against your mother's side of the case, and it has already hurt you and will hurt you more. I am obliged to talk plainly, because I think I can fore see that if this matter ever gets to a jury there will be attendant circumstances, and there may be results more unhappy than the whole property is worth. You may or you may not, just as you think best, report to Hes- THE EXECUTRIX'S DEFENSE. 179 ter what I have said. I shall stand ready to offer any further counsel or assist in any mediation with Mr. Stapleton, if I am requested. If I am not, I cer tainly shall not volunteer." Guthrie spent the rest of the afternoon in his office. By this time he rather wished that the news had got to his mother, for he dreaded being witness to the ex citement that would be produced at his announcement. It was after sunset when he entered through the gate and saw her walking slowly up and down on her piazza. CHAPTER XX. THE EXECUTRIX'S DEFENSE. SINCE the death of her daughter, Mrs. Guthrie, in -spite of her resistance to introspection, had been hav ing an experience far different from any that she had ever counted upon. Her singular delusion about this daughter, conceived when the latter was an infant de pendent upon her breast and resented even then, had been, as has been seen, a source of greater or less bit terness always. A temper irascible, sensitive, jealous, combative, had hindered her making friendships when young with those of either sex, and her family felt a sense of relief when, far past girlhood, Mr. Guthrie from the neighboring county, came, and, after a brief courtship, married and took her away. The suspicion that the memory of his first wife was more frequent and more fond than it ought to be, and that both he 180 WIDOW GUTHRIE. and her first child felt nearer to each other than either was to herself, had such results as we have heard her admit. From the date of this imagined discovery, she had tried not to love her daughter, and she believed that she had succeeded. Yet she prided herself that she had never been harsh in the treatment of her. She seemed to have looked upon her as an unlucky accident that had befallen her, but which, being inevitable, must be endured as she endured a slight unsightly cast in one of her eyes. Her anxiety lest her husband would pre fer this favorite in the disposition of his property had been intense, and had so continued until his death. Thereafter the relations between herself and her daughter were as those between a wealthy dowager and an orphan whom accidental circumstances had devolved upon her hands, to whom she owed nothing, yet for . whom without complaint she was providing already, and whom, when married, she expected to provide more generously than Caroline could have any sort of right to expect. The sense of victory and security had subdued her resentment except to the degree that was necessary to the justification of her own actions in her behalf. She was pleased that people called her beau tiful and lady-like. She cordially wished her to marry a rich husband, not less for her daughter's sake than because the vast distinction she intended to make be tween her and the child of her affection in the distribu tion of her property might be less subject to public commentation and blame. The girl had more than one offer of that sort among the extensive property owners in that county and beyond Broad River. When John Stapleton offered himself, a youth with almost no THE EXECUTRIX'S DEFENSE. 181 4 property of any kind, and of a family which, although entirely respectable, was not of their set, and she saw that his suit was favored, disgusted and incensed, she declared to both that if they married they should never have a cent of her property, except what would be enough to keep Caroline from abject want. They waited until the latter was one and twenty. The mother let them be married in her house, although she would not be present at the ceremony. She even offered to give them something of a party ; but they chose to be joined privately one morning, after which Stapleton took his wife to the modest home that he had prepared. His apparent indifference toward Mrs. Guthrie, both before and after the marriage, had offended her deeply and pained her more than she would have admitted. The few negroes that she gave had been sent without any message, and were received without expression of thanks except a few words returned by the daughter through the driver of the wagon that brought them. The failure of her prophecies about the misery that was bound to follow such a marriage had disgusted her with her daughter and she had grown to cordially hate the latter's husband. It has been seen how she behaved at Mrs. Stapleton's unexpected death. The fierce assault made by remorse and the wailing utterance within her breast from an affection that she had believed to have gone thereout must be resisted, because they could not be endured. It was for these that she poured her wrath against John Stapleton, and hid herself from the obse quies of his wife. Since then her consolation, such as it was, consisted in increased hatred for him and in creased yearning for her son. In this while she seemed 182 WIDOW GUTHR1E. to have grown much older. Her face, although maintain ing its redness, had become more thin and worn. She was more often silent, less stately in her gait, less auto cratic in the discipline of her household. Her snow- white gown and caps, relieved by a black ribbon here and there, made it interesting to note how her scrupu lous neatness abated not amid the other changes that had come upon her. Companionship with Duncan's wife, never cordial because of the quick detection by each of the other's want of congeniality, became less so now. Her intercourse with the Macfarlanes, except a weekly visit from Charlotte, had become yet more in frequent. Going out never, she eagerly craved the society of her son, to whom she poured out her feel ings without restraint, and it was evident both to him and herself that she had become more than ever de pendent upon him. She had not seen the babe at his house, but had said to Duncan that the sight of it jusr, yet, especially with the name it bore, would be more than she could bear. It was for a double reason, there fore, that when early that morning she received a noto from Duncan that Alice had gone to her father's and that he would be with herself that night, she felt a cheerfulness sweeter than for many, many months. " Who is dat I ben hearin' a-singin' in de house ? "' asked Chloe, the cook, of Judy, who had just come into the kitchen. " Ef you'll b'lieve me, Ann' Chloe, hit's mistess. I hain't hear miss try to sing befo', not sence Marse Duii- can got married en went off to live long him en Miss Alice. I declar' it sound so quar, I wouldn't believed it, widout I lookin' at her." THE EXECUTRIX'S DEFENSE. 183 " "Well, I'm glad po' mistess ken have de heart to sing \vid de trouble she have on top o' her min'." " En hit's onlest because Marse Duncan saunt her word Miss Alice gone to her pa's en he gwine come en stay here whell she come back. She told me tell you be monsous partick'lar 'bout liavin' good supper for him." " "Well, I'm thankful she takin' a intruss agin in eat'n o' some kind, for somebody. Tell her I say 'Yes'm.'" What can it be in our destinies that lets us be wholly without preparation for distressful accidents, and which so often, just before their approach, diffuses over our hearts an unwonted sense of freedom from anxieties ? Mrs. Guthrie had spent the day in almost jubilant ex pectation. She had been feeling herself drawn more affectionately toward Alice with something like a sense of thankfulness for going away and leaving Duncan all to herself, and she believed that kind was her own thought to persuade him to let her make her visit as long as she should desire. As soon as he came within hearing she saluted him. " Why, bless your heart ! I don't know when I had such a pleasant surprise as when I got your note this morning. Come in. Now, throw off that coat, and put on this grass linen you see I've kept for you. I know you're hot from working all this warm day in that hot down town." When he had done as she bade, and they were seated, she said : " I'm glad Alice went ; I knew she expected to go some time before long, but I didn't know quite so soon. WIDOW GUTHRIE. Poor child ! She needed some rest from this everlast ing housekeeping, that a body, no matter how much they may see being done, is always seeing something else that needs it as bad. I'm glad she went ; the coun try air will do her good and that poor little baby too, as to that. Yes ; she needn't have sent me word about her going. You know I never liked to say good-by to people, and may be I might have felt it my duty to tell her to bring and let me see one time which I just couldn't have done, and I don't know when I've felt as calm in my mind as I have to-day. Are you right well, Duncan 2 You don't look so very bright. Been feel ing lonesome about Alice, I reckon; but I think you '/night be satisfied for me to have you part of the time. She needed the rest, and if I was in your place I'd let her make a good long stay of it if she wants to. Has anything gone wrong that you look, seems to me, rather bothered in your mind ? I've been thinking all day what a nice good time we were going to have for a while just to ourselves." " Of course, mother, a man must feel some little lonesomeness when his wife has just gone away from him upon an extended visit. But I've not been upset much by that. Let's have supper first. I ate dinner at Jimkin's to-day, and it being earlier than I'm used to, I had but little appetite. I was thinking, when I came in, about some business that may be rather trouble some before it's finished. We'll talk about it after sup per. How are you this evening, mother '( You are looking well." " Oh, I'm well enough ! " she answered low, show ing that the cheer in which she had been had suddenly THE EXECUTRIX'S DEFENSE. 185 gone from her. She called to Judy to hasten supper, but not so as to have it spoiled, and then began talking of things indifferent. During the meal he spoke as usual, but she detected that his cheerfulness was unreal, and she made brief answers to his words. AVhen they had retired to the piazza he reported to her the posting of the notices and a part of their probable meaning, lie spoke with as much indifference as he could assume, fearing an outburst of her passion. She kept entirely silent until he was through, then in a low voice, deter mined to restrain as much as possible excitement that she knew would add to his distress and her own, an swered : " Well, that don't scare me ! I'll let John Stapleton know, and I'll let those meddling lawyers know that if they think they can do that with me, they know nothing at all about me. I had made up my mind to give them children five or six thousand dollars apiece, and may be more, and now I'll not do that unless this mean dis graceful business is put an end to. I'm ready for any .sort of fight they want." He had hoped that the news would have caused her to have some apprehension ; so he said : " It is not a matter of mere fight, mother, and it is not worth while for us to talk in defiance of people who are moving according to the set forms of law. The question for us to consider first, is what defense we can make against the attack that is to be made against fa ther's will, and next, how much we are willing to pay in order to avoid possibly a long, certainly an exasperat ing lawsuit, that, to say the least, will endanger your peace of mind." 186 WIDOW GUTHRIE. " Endanger my peace of mind ! " she replied, in yet lower tone, and after a bitter laugh " my peace of mind ! As if I was ever let have any of that since I was a little child ! " She became silent, and by the starlight he could ob serve the heaving of her bosom. After a few moments, she took out a large white silk handkerchief, and, wip ing her eyes, resumed : " No, / never knew what it was nor what it meant to have peace of mind ! My father, nor my mother, nor my brother, nor my sister, not one of them ever loved me as they did one another, nor cared a straw whether I loved them or not ; and they were every one of them glad as I always knew they would be, when I got married and went off clean away. My very hus band didn't love me as I hoped he was going to ; and even before his first child was born I had the very in stinct that if it loved me at all it wouldn't love me like it did him ; and, sure enough when it came, it didn't arid never did. And when you came, and I found at last, at last, that I had somebody to love me as I loved them, they had me scared nearly out of my life, one way and another, that you'd get cut out of the property. And when all danger of that was over, I was scared fearing that even you might get so after a while when I began to get old, or got old, you wouldn't be to me al ways as you was then. Wait a little bit; don't say anything yet ; I'll go on directly." She rose from the chair, and going to the front of the piazza looked up a moment or two at the stars, then resuming her seat, proceeded : " To go back to Caroline. Do you know the pains THE EXECUTFJX'S DEFENSE. 187 I took with that child ? I did it all the time before your father died, and I promised him I'd keep on doing it after he was dead, and nobody can say I ever broke my word. She had the best clothes of any girl in this town. I sent her to school and kept her at school un til that John Stapleton began to follow her around, and she had as good an education as any girl in this whole region of country ever had, not excepting Charlotte and Alice ; and I took pride in her because everybody praised her, and I knew she was my own child. But, if you believe me, I was always anxious about her, and afraid that she'd at last do something to make me think it wouldn't be right to do for her all your father ex pected of me. And sure enough she did, and then I declare it seemed that it all came about just to hurt me and keep me hurt in my very soul as long as I'm to live the poor child, after she'd had two children by that man, lay down and died, w r hen I was no more ex pecting such a thing than for one of those stars you see up yonder to break loose and fall out of the sky ! O my God ! my God ! Talk to me about peace of mind, Duncan ? To-day I did think I was beginning to have a little of it ; but I thought even then it wasn't going to last. God knows what little of that I've had, has come from you. Come here ! " As he approached her, she reached forth both her arms, pressed his head against her bosom, and groaned aloud. A moment after, loosing him, and almost push ing him away, she said : "That'll do, go back, and don't you say a single word to me until I tell you ; I want to think a while." She walked heavily several times up and down the 188 WIDOW GUTHRIE. piazza. Suddenly stopping and resuming her seat, she turned toward him and asked : " You say there were two notices ? How came that?" " One was as Caroline's administrator, and the other as guardian of the children." " You don't mean that John Stapleton is after any of the property for himself, his lone self, do you, Dun can?" " His asking for guardianship would seem as if he was moving mainly in behalf of the children. Still the law, as it now stands, would give the property if any should be recovered to him as administrator of Caro line, which means the same as turning it over to him personally." " Well, then, he shtfrft liave it ! " She rose again and traversed the piazza, this time for a quarter of an hour, as if to marshal her thoughts. Then, going up and standing before him, she said : " Duncan, you go to bed. I want to think over this thing by myself. But tell me first, have you said any thing to your Uncle Dennis about it ? " " Yes, mother. I spoke to him this afternoon." " What did he say ? " " His advice is to offer a compromise." " Yes ; his advice is always against me ! But now let me tell you I'm not going to do it ! Dennis Mac- farlane was always a man that didn't know what was best even for himself, let alone other people, and my suspicion is he's found it out ; he ought to by this time. He sees how I've managed this property better than he's managed his own, and he don't talk to me about THE EXECUTRIX'S DEFENSE. 189 Dennis Macfarlane and his advice to me ! But you go along to bed, child ; I'll let you know in the morning what I'm going to do. My Lord ! When I was feeling so easy in my mind about your coming and staying here a while I knew all the time that something was going to happen to spoil it. It's always been so with me, I've got something I want you to do ; but I'll tell you to-morrow. Go to bed and get some rest. And don't you go to sleep thinking I'm scared ; for I am not!" lie went off to bed. " Judy," said his mother, when the maid had come to her call, " put your cot close to the door in the room behind mine, and go along to bed. If I want you I'll call you." For several hours, with a black shawl around her, she walked and sat alternately on the piazza. At last. she went in, locked the door, repaired to her chamber, and undressed herself. Trying to arrange her hair for the night-cap as it was done usually for her. and dis gusted that she could not, she threw down the comb and brush, seated herself, and again ruminated. Late in the night, taking a candle, she went softly rip-stairs to the chamber where Duncan lay. Sitting down upon the rail of the bed, she looked for some moments upon his handsome face, then, passing her hand over it, awak ened him. " Alice ! " he said, startled ; " what's the matter 2 Oh, is it you, mother ? " " Yes, I wonder you could have been so mistaken, even between sleep and awake. I come to tell you, Duncan, some of what I've made up my mind to do. 190 WIDOW GUTHRIE. I don't suppose the case is going to come up right away ; because if it is, I want you to go straight to morrow after Seaborn Torrance. You've got to go soon any how ; but I don't suppose it's necessary to break off to him quite yet, is it ? " " Of course not, mother," lie answered, as he rose into a sitting position. " That may be so, or it may not. I know, from what you say and from what Dennis Macfarlane says, though he was always a timid and I don't know what else sort of man yet I can see that there's some danger of the law of this business. There always is when it comes to the case of a woman, especially when she's a widow ; and I reckon that's what makes 'em so willing to marry again when they have lost their hus bands. But that's neither here nor there to me that had as much of that sort of experience as I wanted, and the very idea of marrying again has always been to me I'm simply speaking for myself it's been noth ing else but disgusting, as the very death ! As a widow I have fought my way the best I could, and I'm ready to do it again. I know you are sleepy, and don't want to talk about business this time of night ; but I just had to tell you something before I went to bed, and it's this. Duncan, you're mistaken if you think I haven't been preparing and keeping myself prepared for such as this ; and I come to tell you. Half, at least half of the money that your father left and that I have made off the property is in this house, and is in metal. I've put some of it out at interest ; but I know how to shave notes and debts as well as anybody, and I'm going to gather it in and hide it along with the balance ; and THE EXECUTRIX'S DEFENSE. 191 I'm going to put the land into money, and do the same with that. I thought about running the negroes off to Alabama or Mississippi, but somehow I haven't the aeart to do that, because it seems like the poor things feel that they're dependent upon me, and they're fond of me I don't know what for, without it's because they think I'm rich ; and then they've got wives and husbands and children scattered about everywhere, no body knows where, and I just haven't the heart. So I reckon they'll have to stay as they are ; but as for the balance, John Stapleton may take it out in whist ling ! " He pitied her too much to say anything against the practicability of her proposed action. He tried to com fort by assuring her that, however the case might re- result, he himself could get much more than half of the estate. " Go to bed, dear mother," he said, " and get some sleep, which it is plain that you need. You are already provided against the worst. We can keep them in court as long as we please, one way and another, and I doubt not that Jack Stapleton will be willing to accept, in compromise, whatever you may at last decide to offer to the children." " To the children ? Yes. But to him ? Not a dollar will I compromise this side of my grave ! " A little while longer she sat and looked at him. Her only love, the sight and his words wrought a calmness which was exceeding dear. At length she said : " And you think you can stay here contented a while, and not be longing for Alice ? " 192 WIDOW GUTHRIE. " My dearest mother," he answered, smiling, " I act ually haven't thought about Alice since we began to talk about this business." She felt like embracing him, but she did not. Such as that had always been embarrassing to her. So, with out other words, she rose and went out. Descending the stairs and entering the room where her maid was asleep, she roused her with these words : " It is actually astonishing to see how young people and niggers can sleep. If it wasn't for old people, and white at that, they'd all get burnt up whenever there's a fire in the night-time. Judy, go to the kitchen and fetch me some hot water. I told Chloe to keep a pot on the fireplace. You needn't blunder about and wake her ; but go and get it, and come in my room and give my feet a good bathing." When the tub was brought, while she lay back in her chair pointing out to Judy the parts of her limbs for special attention, she said : " Judy, if I was to break up housekeeping and want to sell out, is there anybody particular who you'd want, to buy you ? " " Law, miss, I ain' been even studdin' about you breaking up your house fine house like dis, en got all you want in it, en more too." " But, suppose the sheriff was to come and sell me out. Then, what ? " " Laws of mighty mercies, miss ! I knowed you wa'n't well de minute I see you not eat'n no supper hardly ; en I knowed it agin when you made me move my cot ; en now I know it worse'n befo', you talkirf dat way; for because you 'bleeged to know in your THE NEED OF COUNSEL. 193 mind dat I wants to belong to nobody exceptin' o' yon, not while my life's a livin'." " I'm not sick, nigger ; I was just fooling. Stop and dry me well with the towel, and then fix my hair." Shortly afterward she was abed, soundly sleeping. CHAPTER XXI. THE NEED OF COUNSEL. THE next morning Mrs. Guthrie rose early, feeling more refreshed than she had expected. Taking a cup of coffee, she gave orders for breakfast to be delayed imtil Duncan should awaken. When he came down, she said : " Good morning, my son. I wouldn't let you be called, because I wanted you to get a plenty of sleep. Let's go in and get something to eat. It's to be hoped that Chloe has got us some sort of a breakfast." Half an hour afterward, while Guthrie, with cigar just lighted, was walking on the piazza,, he observed a man about to open the front gate. Descending the steps and passing over the walk, he said : u "Well, Simmons. You come to see me ? " " No, Mr. Guthrie ; I came to serve a paper on your mother." " All right ; hand it to me, and I'll give it to her." " Shall I enter ' Left at the abode,' Mr. Guthrie, or will you acknowledge service for her ? " " Either, Simmons, it makes no difference ; but I 13 WIDOW GUTHRIE. may just as well acknowledge service, and if you'll call at my office an hour from now I'll do so." The man, one of the sheriff's deputies, went on back, and Guthrie returned to the house. His mother, as he was coming up the steps, asked sternly : "What man was that, Duncan, and what did he want 3 " " It was a deputy sheriff, mother, who wanted to hand me some documents." " Wonder why he couldn't wait till you'd had time for your breakfast to settle, and go down town. Is it anything concerning of me ? because I want to know everything that happens, and when and how it happens, and I want it to come facing of me." Tired by so long experience of her impatient, fiery energy, he answered petulantly : " Mother, I have only run over the indorsement on the back of the paper, and noticed that it was a bill in equity a thing I was expecting, but not quite so soon. I can study it at my office better than I can here. Be sides, I have an appointment there at half-past nine, with a client. As soon as I can find time for it, I will look over the thing and report to you at dinner ; or sooner if you wish. I don't see the use of talking to me as if you had no confidence in me." " Why, Duncan," she responded, instantly softened, " confidence in you f The Lord knows that you are the only one that I have got complete confidence in. I'm just excited and worried, and I've no doubt I spoke too hasty. Go on to your business. You needn't to come up here before dinner-time, without it's necessary, as I've no idea it will be. I understand them. They THE NEED OP COUNSEL. 195 would like to scare people ; but I'm older than any of them, and have seen folks before they were born." Then she went back into the house. As Duncan turned from the gate, Mr. Wendell and Miss Jewell entered the street on the opposite side. A double pain shot through his heart ; he felt intense regret both that his father had not died intestate and that his eye had ever rested upon that young woman. He hastened for ward, as he must have saluted this party if their eyes had met. He could hear Miss Jewell's voice, clear, and refined, as she chatted with her cousin, and he made greater haste. When he reached his office, taking out the paper which the officer had served, he read it care- fully. A bill in equity, as is known to those who are at all familiar with judicial investigations, is a petition wherein a complainant asks for special aid and protec tion from the court in cases wherein an ordinary action according to set forms of proceeding at Common Law is alleged or apprehended to be insufficient. The one in this case was named A Bill for Discovery, Account, Relief, and Injunction. It alleged : That Alan Guthrie, owner of property of several sorts to the amount of at least two hundred thousand dollars, had deceased, leaving a widow and two minor children, Caroline and Duncan. That the wife, Hester Guthrie, after his decease prr pounded in the Court of Ordinary of the county a paper purporting to be his last will and testament, which, by proof in common form, had been admitted to probate, and letters testamentary had been issued to her as the executrix named therein ; and that the estate at the pres- 190 WIDOW GUTHRIE. ent time was believed to amount to the value of not less than three hundred thousand dollars. That at the time of the signing of the paper Alan Guthrie was so prostrated by various bodily and men tal infirmities that he was not of that degree of sound ness of memory required by law in a testator at the execution of a last will and testament, but that the said Hester, taking advantage of his infirm condition, had acquired over him an influence which he was not strong enough to resist, and thus compelled him to sign the fraudulent paper by which his whole estate was be queathed to herself to the exclusion of his other as rightful heirs from any part thereof. That the testator while in life, as was well known to all his friends and acquaintances, had had much affec tion for his children, and that to some of the former during his decline he had expressed apprehension that injustice would be done by his wife, particularly to his daughter Caroline, against whom she had ever in dulged a prejudice without just foundation, and for that reason he had executed a paper in which he had deputed her to divide his estate equally among herself and his children, which sayings of the testator were made in the hearing of several witnesses (some now living) after the date whereon said pretended last will and testament purported to have been executed, all which tended to show that he did not fully under stand the provisions in that paper contained, and that many other things done and said by the testator ante rior and subsequent to its date left no doubt that ho was wholly incompetent for the execution of a last will and testament of any sort. THE NEED OF COUNSEL. 197 After alleging the marriage and death of Caroline, leaving a husband and two children, and their failure to receive their just portion of the estate, the bill prayed that the said pretended last will and testament be set aside, the testamentary letters be revoked, that an ac count be required from the executrix of her actings and doings in the management of the estate, and of the in terest and other profits that had accrued since the death of decedent ; and that respondent be required to answer under oath all the allegations in said bill contained, and that she be enjoined, under such penalty as the court should deem sufficient, from selling, removing, or other wise disposing of any portion of the estate except under decree of the court. The concluding prayer was for such other and fur ther relief as the judge, sitting as a court of Chancery, might deem necessary for complainants. The bill was in the name of John Stapleton in his own right, as administrator of Caroline Stapleton, and as guardian of the minor children left by her. It was signed by Thomas Tolly and Christopher Bond, solicitors. Sick at heart, Guthrie, putting the document upon his table, paced about the room, pondering the blow that, so long delayed, had fallen at last suddenly and with a force that seemed to him as cruel and revenge ful as it was appalling. Several times he went to the door and looked out. It was anguish to him to see men walking about doing and chatting, some of them laughing, as if nothing unwonted had happened. After some time, closing his office, he went up to his own residence. His judgment was that if the allegations in the bill could be substantiated even partially, his mother I 198 WIDOW GUTHRIE. must be defeated ; for it must appear that his father m executing the paper, even if proved to have been of dis posing memory, intended to constitute the executrix as trustee of two thirds of the estate for the benefit of his children. How to deal with her, so passionate, so fearless, so defiant of other's opinions, so incapable of denying solemnly anything that she had done, so resolute to maintain it without avoidance or compro mise, so apt to resort to desperate expedients, perplexed him sorely. He sat upon his piazza, or moved about the house and grounds the rest of the forenoon. He had never thought to feel as now the absence of his wife. It seemed as though she had been gone a long time already. Never before had he felt how necessary she was to his being, how dear to him. He put his hands upon several things which she often used things on her bureau, on the piano, and the parlor center-table. Raising the piano lid, he discovered her handkerchief which had been left when she had closed it last. He put it to his face and smelled the delicate perfumery. Fold ing it carefully, he put it into his pocket, shut the piano again, and left the house. On the way to his mother's, it was some relief to remember that on the night before she had spoken of retaining in her case the lawyer Sea born Torrance. He commended her sagacity in fixing upon such a man, and he was eager to have as soon as possible the help of his counsel. In spite of his efforts to appear calm, she detected at a glance the anxiety upon his mind. When he had reported what was alleged and claimed by the bill in equity, she was silent for several moments, then, with a sad, bitter smile, said : THE NEED OF COUNSEL. 199 " Well, if I am to have to make another fight in my old age, I'll show those people and all the rest of them some things that will be interesting. Now there isn't go ing to be one single particle of doubt about that. As for Judge Ansley sending his sheriff to me with his paper, ordering me what to do and what not to do with what's mine but come, let's have dinner. I told them to have it ready a little before one, as I've hardly ate enough since yesterday dinner to keep a cat alive, much less a woman that's got on her hands what's on mine, and I'm hungry. What I want to say now is that I want' you this evening or to-morrow morning early to take your sulky, and go straight for Seaborn Torrance, and bring him right here to me. I told him when he was here last court, that if I ever had a lawsuit that was important, I'd want him, and he promised that when- I ever I sent for him, he'd come right away if he wasn't :oo busy with something else. I want the best lawyer that can be got, and from what I've heard about him ic's that. He knows when and how to talk, and how and when to bring on and put off, and never give up. ['11 send him by you a thousand dollars, and you tell lira there's more where that came from. That's all "['ve got to say now. Come along to dinner." He was gratified at the subsidence of her excite ment, for he had feared that it might lead to indiscreet action. She relished the good dinner that had been provided, and kept urging him to try to do the same. Some, only a little reprehension of his distrust and tim idity was in her words and manner. During the after noon and evening she exhibited the kind of cheerful ness that in the being of the intrepid comes with the 200 WIDOW GUTHRIE. threat of danger. Occasionally she would give way, but only brieliy, to resentment, which contempt hin dered from reaching exasperation. " Poor John Stapleton ! You know, Duncan, that if I didn't despise the creature so from my heart, I almost feel like I could get sorry for him ? My sus picion at the time about Caroline was that she wasn't exactly in her right mind when she let herself down to marry such a thing as him, whether or no. Decent born as she was, of course she was obliged, living with him, to hold him back from some of his savage wild- ness, but now, here, as soon as the breath is out of her body, to come at me with his notices, and his citations, and his l>ills of equities, or what you mind to call 'em, and think to scare me ! " In the midst of such speeches her fan would fly like that of a winnowing machine, and the laugh that followed gave whatever relief was possible. It was evident to her son that she was trying to impart to him some of her own courage, both for his own comfort, and to render him more competent for his part of the work in hand and to come. To her question how long the case could be kept in court, provided she should so desire, he answered that that would depend upon cir cumstances. She replied : "Well, from what I've been told about Seaborn Torrance, he's the very man to help get them up. As for those children, now their poor mother is dead, I've been intending to give them a good deal more than I ever expected to do; but to be settled so that John Stapleton was to have not one blessed thing to do with it. You know he's going to marry again, and keep on THE NEED OF COUNSEL. 201 marrying as long as he keeps on killing up women that think no more of themselves than to be his wives." " Oh, yes, he's pretty sure to marry again but kill ing his wives ? What do you mean by that, mother ? " " I mean nothing that is nothing so very particular, Duncan, that you look at me so strange. I don't mean that the creature actually took up a stick and knocked her brains out, or even poisoned her, or smothered her ; but he just wore the poor thing out with trying to make something of a decent man out of him and dying in the attempt. And besides all that, I wasn't satisfied and I never will be satisfied about her dropping off in that way all so sudden. From the way they told me she was first taken, she had nothing in this world but milk fever, and I can't but have my suspicions that he, or his old mother, and may be the doctor God Almighty knows, I don't but among 'em they got to projecking and fooling with the case, and the first thing they knew, they killed her. If that man had anything to do with it and I'm not accusing him nor ^reusing him but if he did, it was because he saw that he wasn't going to get any more property by her." " Oh, dear mother, he was entirely innocent of everything like that ! " " I don't say he wasn't, Duncan. I told you I wasn't accusing him nor excusing him. That's between him and his God. I was glad I didn't see him the day I was there, and she laid out. I was mighty nigh distracted ajiy how, and I might have used words which of course I couldn't prove. Well, well, well, don't let us talk about the thing any more. You start soon in the morn ing for Seaborn Torrance." 202 WIDOW GUTHRIE. She turned away from the subject, and made no fur ther reference to it during the remainder of the day. Simultaneously with Guthrie's departure in search of the lawyer who was to be his colleague, Bond left for Augusta. The equity proceeding had been begun some what sooner than might have been had he not other busi ness which he thought to require early attention. He had called upon Miss Jewell twice since the visit on the evening of his arrival, once in company with Tolly, His persistent suit, aided by solemn remonstrances from her sister, had impressed her perceptibly, although she still avowed her resolution to remain single. On this last visit, in which Tolly accompanied, the latter had a long conversation with her while Bond chatted apart from where they sat with Anna "Wendell. After they had left, Tolly said that he felt almost sure that he would prevail. " I try to hope so, Tolly, although I can't get her to say a word to warrant it." u Nor I, directly ; but I could see from her looks at you when I was talking about yon, and her confused irregular answers to me, that her affections are entirely yours, and that she will be obliged to follow them, re sist them as she is doing, most unreasonably, I think." " No, Tolly no, sir ; I've been thinking about it a great deal, and I'll be cursed if I haven't rather come to the conclusion that the woman is right, hard as it is on me. She wants the field perfectly clear, and she doesn't see how it can be made so ; and I admire and love her the more for it. Why. sir, what do you suppose she said to me last night ? ' Mr Bond ' said she ' I could tell you something that would make you agree with me that I THE NEED OF COUNSEL. 203 ought not to marry.' By George ! that scared me, because 1 was afraid she was going to tell me and then ask for a pledge to do nothing with Guthrie. I answered her that I didn't wish to hear a single word against, but whatever I could in favor of her marrying me. Tears were in her eyes. I couldn't stand it ; so I trumped up some sort of lie that you were expecting me, and I got away as soon as I could. But I'm thankful that you think faw^rably of the case. Their school term ends in about a week ; but she says she's not going to Augusta, except for a short visit toward the last of her vaca- ation. It is plain to me that she intends to live it out, God bless her ! By the way, you ought to hear how she praises Miss Macfarlane, and you also, confound you ! She says you two are bound to marry each other if you both live a year or two longer. I asked her to-night, the little time I had with her, how she thought this case would affect your prospects. She answered, not at all, or, if anything, would assist them. She says that the whole family are against Guthrie's mother in the treatment of her daughter, and Stapleton also. Put that in your pock et. And so, my dear Tolly, with such hopes and a good law case, give me your hand. There ; I feel another sort better than I did Avhen I first got into this town." He waved adieu as he drove by the house on the next morning. Mr. Wendell, who yet knew of no spe cial difficulty in the way, said after he had passed : " Sarah, it is plain to me that that man wants to marry you, and if he does, I think you ought to consider well before you reject his suit." "With her folded fan she patted his cheek playfully, then went in for her bonnet. 204 WIDOW GUTHRIB. CHAPTER XXII. ALICE JOURNEYS TO BROAD KIVEE. IN her preparation for departure Alice busied her self for the baby more than for herself. Instead of Marcus, the carriage was driven by the husband of Eliza, because the mistress was not willing to separate them from each other. Susie, another of the house servants, was taken along to assist in nursing. Marcus, as Aunt Bitter would have guessed, was well pleased secretly, because the journey would have taken him too long away from the "ladies" and "females" of Clarke, and forced him to try to be content with what society could be had among those beyond Broad River. The two babies were provided with abundant outfits, and the extremest care was observed that they should not be hurt in this their first exposure to the perils of a day's travel. It was a mild morning, the sun through out the day not shining too hot for the comfort of the horses as they walked up the hills and trotted leisurely along the stretches of level. The cool shades through woods, and along their edges, the liquid fragrance from myriads of leaves and wild flowers, and the gleeful music all along were enougV v o make a thoughtful mind have a sense of re ligious thankfulness. Yet Alice was sad throughout her journey, except when busy, or imagining she ought to be busy, with her charge. Even the sweet prospect of soon being at her native home was saddened by thoughts of the life that she had been leading since she had left it. It would have frightened her too much if ALICE JOURNEYS TO BROAD RIVER. 205 she had felt that her heart was not loyal as ever to the husband who had taken her thence, notwithstanding the disappointments that had befallen. The sun lacked half an hour of setting when, having crossed the river by ferry, the travelers, turning toward Dove Creek, arrived at their destination. Nearly midway in a plantation of several thousands of acres, on a high plateau surrounded by oaks and hickories, interspersed with poplars and chestnut trees, was the large mansion, its perfect white making pleasing contrast with the varying green around. Below and above was a wide piazza extending along three sides, at either end of the lower being a long one-story room, and between these another piazza whereon, when the weather suited, the family were accustomed to take their meals. Outside were signs of wealth as unostentatious as abundant ; within, furniture massive and of a style which had out lived others more ornate but less tasteful and less adapted to comfortable uses. The dining-table stood al ways extended beyond the needs of the family for the ac commodation of any one or more of the neighbors,, rich or poor, who might drop in by invitation or chance at meal times ; for already there obtained among the cult ured and wealthy of that region the custom of dispensing a hospitality that became so important in the making of the people of middle Georgia. The family i w resi dent there was limited to the parents and two sons, one who would graduate at the State College after two years longer. Two miles a\vay, with his own family, was the other, who already had become, like his father, a successful planter and leading citizen. All sadness, for a time, must be driven away by the 206 WIDOW GUTHRIE. welcome extended by all parents, brother, slaves, the affection of the last mentioned of whom the true-hearted Georgian always prized, and wherever he is living now, cherishes with fondness its recollection. Cordial as to her was the welcome to the baby, the getting out for whom of things that had been lying in ancient chests and drawers was to have no end. For a time Alice felt as she used to feel in her girlhood without thought of the troubles already known and without apprehen sion of the greater that, -already near, were to follow. Her father was tall and massive, with little diminution of vigor and activity ; his countenance showed firmness and benignity. Her mother, of about her own height and figure, seemed somewhat younger than she was in deed, and much younger than her husband, although there was a difference in their ages of less than ten years, her hair being slightly turned, while his had be come nearly all white. To see the two together for only an hour, one must observe that their domestic life had been one of affection, trust, and peace. It is not in the nature of such a woman as Alice Guthrie to live without confiding or wishing to con fide to somebody the secrets of her emotions, especially her sufferings and anxieties. Away from her native home, at which never had been a secret that was not known to every member of the family, in the society wherein she had been living there had been but one with whom, if their separate conditions and circumstances, though nearly allied, had not been so widely different, she would have lived in the free intimacy out of which is wont to come so much consolation in distress. Many a time had she yearned to tell Caroline Staple- ALICE JOURNEYS TO BROAD RIVER. 207 ton what she must withhold about herself and the com passion she felt for her, although knowing that she lived a far happier life than her own was or than she ever hoped for it to become. Even as it was, a sym pathy had been between them which now it was dear to her to recall, and she was thankful that in the care of this infant she was rendering some compensation, slight as it was, for the injustice that had been put upon its mother by her family. Yet in her experience there was a thing which she never could have imparted to but one, and it was she from whom, until her marriage, not a feeling or impulse of her breast had ever been withheld. In the face of her daughter, Mrs. Ludwell, despite the childlike happiness at being there again, had detected evidences of care beyond what comes nat urally along the line of married life. Tears were in her eyes several times as she looked into the faces of her parents and at old familiar things in the house, showing that her heart was too full of gratitude for being again in that loved presence, and on that first night, even if both had wished and tried to delay, they would not have been able to forbear, the one from asking and the other from answering heart to heart. Already her parents knew, what before her marriage they had known only in part, of the relations main tained by Mrs. Stapleton with her mother and, to a less degree, with her brother, and they felt a disgust which, though not as painful, was as decided as her own. Then to them much more than to her had come whis perings of Duncan's deportment toward young women, including Emily Simkins, w r hich, had they been heard in time, inquired into, arid found or suspected to be 208 WIDOW GUTHRIE. be upon good foundation, would have prevented their consent to the marriage. Latterly other rumors, though of not such gross kind, had reached them, and tilled the mother especially with anxiety. The evening was given up to congratulations and affectionate chattings. They sat on the piazza, so much more peaceful than the one in which during the same evening Guthrie was listening as his mother poured forth her bitterness and resentment. The night's loveliness must have been remarked by all but that it was common to the nights of the season through out that region. Their talk was of pleasant news that every one had to give about pleasant things, or of Caro line Stapleton, her husband and children. To a ques tion of her father about Stapleton, she answered : " Father, he is a man among a thousand ! I've not seen anywhere one whose appearance and whose de portment discover the gentleman more clearly. Sister Caroline was most dearly devoted to him, and well she might have been ; for if I ever met a man more capa ble of winning and keeping the whole heart of such a woman as she was, I don't remember. He is extremely handsome, too perhaps I should rather say manlike- courteous in his manners, and one to be trusted to the very last degree." No allusion was made to the treatment which their family had received, nor to the lawsuit that seemed about to begin. This must be postponed until after a time of needed rest. Alice yielded to her mother's suggestion to retire to bed early, and when she liad undressed herself, Mrs. Ludwell said : " Now I will leave you, darling, although there are ALICE JOURNEYS TO BROAD RIVER. 209 many things I want to talk to you about. Go to bed now and sleep well in your old own bed-chamber." " It is so sweet to be here, mother," she said, look ing around. Tears came into her eyes, and instantly were answered by some in her mother's. " I don't feel like going to bed quite yet, mother, unless you insist. I'm not at all fatigued, and I am loath to let sleep come and shut my eyes so soon from you and the things in this room. Yet I'd better, on your account and on father's. If we should get to talk ing we won't know when to stop, and father will be kept awake." " No, dear. If you don't feel fatigued nor sleepy we can have a little talk. Your father won't mind it. Indeed, he doesn't expect me quite yet, knowing we might have something special to say to each other. Only he cautioned me not to keep you up late, and to let you lie in bed as late as you pleased to-morrow morning." " That was good of him and just like him." They chatted until late. The mother was led soon to regret that their conversation had not been post poned. Now the door of the heart of her daughter once opened, all therein must come out in that dear presence. That heart, parted from none of the loyalty of its new allegiance, yet could not but confess for it seemed and felt like a confession some of the things that had brought so much anguish and shame. With bitter grief she spoke of the neglect of Caroline Staple- ton, a neglect which, if her own husband had not con nived at it, he could have mitigated, or at least com pensated by affectionate behavior on his own part, 14 210 WIDOW GUTHRIE. neither of which things, as was well known to every body, he had ever done. When she came to speak of Miss Jewell, her face reddened and her voice was low and tense, tending to frighten her mother with the sus picion that herein she had received a wound that was incurable. Several times she besought her to stop, but she would not. " No, mother, not yet, not quite yet. I can not sleep until I have told you all. After that I am sure that I can. I must let all come out to-night, since it lias begun ; then I shall get some relief. May God for give me if I have said, or if I shall say, anything incon sistent with the vows I have taken upon myself, to bo followed by temptations so much more trying than I could ever have been made to expect ! It is to you 1 am talking, and it seems to me now, as it always seemed, that when I am talking with you it is as though I am talking with my own heart, and with God's full per mission. Now listen to me further about this young woman ; for you haven't yet seen the peculiar, the deepest pain upon my heart when thinking about her. O mother ! what terrifies me most is the thought, the constantly increasing thought, that she is innocent. I believed, because I was made to believe, that she was not. I do not mean that I was led to suspect her guilty in any very wicked, impure sense, at least so known to herself, and intended by herself ; but that she had for Duncan a feeling of attachment to which, instead of resisting, she yielded with too little thought of inevita ble consequences ; and that Duncan, having suddenly discovered the degree of her weakness withdrew from her company abruptly, and induced me to treat her ALICE JOURNEYS TO BROAD RIVER. 211 with only such civility as, without rudeness, must be observed whenever we met in the company of others. But do you know, mother, that sometimes, when I've been looking toward her, I have said to myself, if that face, beautiful as it is, be not innocent, it has been gifted with preternatural power to counterfeit. She has looked at me sometimes indeed, she did so as late as yesterday afternoon, when I happened to meet her with Charlotte Macfarlane in one of the stores as if she would like to draw near to me for the purpose of undeceiving, and that she is hindered mainly by pity, pity for the delusion under which I am, and for the worse grief I should have if she were to remove it. I declare the thought of that sometimes so frightens me that I feel as if I must die ! " Her mother, in much anxiety, watched as she rose and walked silently but rapidly in the room, feeling that she must say something, and not knowing what. " Come, come, my child," she affectionately remon strated, " I can not believe that things are as bad as you fear." She stopped abruptly, moved slowly to her mother, and, getting upon her knees and taking both her hands, said : " Mother, I could, or I think I could, have borne what many women far better than I am have had to bear in their husbands, especially when sorely tempted, as in this case for she is faultless in face and in shape but mother, mother ! suppose it should be, and be made appear that that the man whose wife I am, in his infatuation for this fair creature, so deported himself toward her as to frighten her away or as to incense her, 212 WIDOW GUTHRIE. as all good women must be incensed by a man's audaci tj, and that therefore it is she, instead of me, that has been most outraged ; and yet she can afford to look down with compassion upon me, and decline, for my sake, to put aside a veil that would show him to whom I am so bound to be not only a treacherous husband, but an as- sailer and a slanderer of unprotected innocence ! If that is proved, O mother ! how am I to continue to live with a man who to put iny own poor self aside from such consideration sought to blast the name of a good woman whom he endeavored, but failed to destroy \ " She buried her face in the lap of her mother, who let her weep for several moments. Then, raising her and taking her within her arms, she said : " My daughter, I am very sorry that I let you speak of your troubles this first night. They are more serious than I had apprehended. But you must not say an other word about them now." Then, looking around the room, she asked : " Is everything arranged as you wished ? That was your crib ; I know you haven't forgotten it." " That I have not ! " she answered, smiling. " Yes ; all is just as I would have it. I keep the baby close by me while she is so young. I feel better now, and I'm going to get a good night's sleep. I'm sure I am." The outpouring did no harm, rather good. The feeling of home and its abounding sufficiency in love and protection, outside sounds and fragrances, soon brought on sleep. She did not awaken when the nurse, twice in the course of the night, entered the chamber. The sun was high up next morning when, opening hoi- eyes and contemplating curiously for a moment the ALICE JOURNEYS TO BROAD RIVER. 213 things around her, so long unwonted, she rose quickly, called to the nurse, and began to dress herself. " Why, Liza, I'm ashamed of myself ! "What did you let me sleep so for ? How is the baby ? Did she wake in the night ? " " Yes'm, Miss Alice ; twice't. I wa'n' guine wake you when no use, en I knowed you want de sleep, en your ma, en your pa, bofe un 'em say it not got to be done. De baby well as she ken be, 'pear like de trav- 'lin' en de a'r up here already 'gins to 'gree wid her, de way she hold on to me when I takes her." At that moment, after a knock at the door, a wait ress entered with a tray, bearing a goblet overflowing with golden and green. " Mawnin', Miss Alice ; hope you res' well larse night. Marster sent you dis min' julep, en he say you got to drink it every drap, because he say you needs it. He say he don' want no foolin' wid it jes wid de spoon." " Oh, Tempe, good morning ! Tell father I say that I find he's the same good, glorious old fellow that he's always been. Breakfast is over, isn't it ? " " No'm ; marster en mistess say dee ain' goin' to have breakfast tell you wake up en come down, exceptin' mistess she made marster take a cup o' coffee." " My, my ! go down and tell mother she may give orders to have breakfast brought in. I'll be down by the time it is ready." The meal was served in the piazza at the rear, from which they could look upon the poultry of various spe cies in the yard and over into the garden, along whose f i-ont fence were fig trees, cape jessamines, rose bushes, and lagestraemias. 214: WIDOW GUTHRIE. " I knew you two girls would want to have some special talky-talky to yourselves," said Mr. Ludwell. " "Whom did you gossip about mostly ? " " Not you for one, father," answered Alice cheerily. " You may be sure that you escaped unscathed." " I suppose you took up those whom you regarded as the biggest sinners first; my time will come on a little later. Did you drink the julep I sent you ? " " Oh, yes, and it was delicious, especially for being made by you." " All right ; now I want to see if you can't eat something. You're rather thinner looking than I like to see, daughter. I hope Mr. Guthrie doesn't allowance you on that line." " Oh, no," she answered, imitating his tone. " He is quite fond of good eating himself, and he wonders some times why I eat what he calls so little. But I'm in good health physically, father, and I mean to enjoy fully you and mother, and everybody and everything else, while I'm here." " That's right. Nothing like a good appetite for health, supposing, of course, a reasonable conscience. I hope, as some of our good neighbors about here say, that you've tried to keep a livin' holt on the lessons your mother has taught you." " Good lessons have been taught me by others be sides mother," she answered, with a look of affection, " even if I might justly count her as at the head of my teachers. I can't say how well I've profited by the in structions." " "Well, well, I'll take it for granted that you've done as well as could be expected. But fall to, fall to we ALICE JOURNEYS TO BROAD RIVER. 215 mustn't let the breakfast get cold, what allowance your economical mother has set before us." This joke, pleasant as habitual, put all in good frame. CHAPTER XXIII. MRS. BUCK. IN that region were fewer marked distinctions than in the villages between the educated and the ignorant, the wealthy and the poor. I should hardly say " the poor," for there were almost none who could not, and who usually did not, make sufficient maintenance for themselves and their dependents out of a soil so fertile and a climate so salubrious. To a frontier region, near the line of dangerous savage existence, few are accus tomed to migrate who have not courage, vigor, and activity sufficient for their own essential wants. Here large estates and small the former few, the latter nu merous ; the former not too large, the latter not too small covered the country from the Savannah beyond the Ocmulgee. Remote from large towns, bordering upon an extensive space occupied by the Indians, it be hooved this people within degrees to ignore personal, and even family distinctions, in view of the needs and perils that were incident to all. And so the un cultured poor man (thus to name him for want of a more accurate appellative) was led to feel a freedom as distinct as his wealthy neighbor, with whom his in tercourse often was more frequent and confidential than 216 WIDOW GUTHRIE. that held with his equal in property and intelligence who lived half a dozen miles away. The outcome of such relationships was benign to both classes. It is not every man of wealth, with sincere intentions thereto, who knows how to deport himself to his neighbors who are of the humbler sort. There is a condescension that means and wishes to be considered charitableness which to the eye looks well enough to be praised, and it some times makes grateful recipients out of those who have been used to nothing different. Yet between these and the givers is a wall which, though not visible to the eye, is felt by both to be impassable ; and this feeling tends to suppress emulation and hinder development on the line where some might make their best achieve ments. On the other hand, w r here there is no wall ex cept that made by the natural fitness of things, along which is many an open gate for going in and coming out, whatever is original and individual has opportu nities for all possible growth. There was an aristoc racy in rural districts as in villages, an aristocracy of excellent type, with definite but not oppressive peculiar ities, effecting good results. The broad line between the white man and the negro had the effect of hinder ing any other. The aristocratic element did not keep itself aloof from the democratic, but associated witli it, elevated it, and sometimes allied itself with it. In its very highest representatives it was least ostentatious. Its graciousness was not misunderstood by the humble, and they not often sought to overleap barriers to entirely equal intercourse which, not convention, but nature and different fortune and opportunities had raised. No man could feel himself to be more of a freeman than MRS. BUCK. 217 the white man of middle Georgia sixty years ago. The products of this freedom have been seen on fields of nultifarious endeavor. Intermixture of classes among the whites accounts both for the racy humor among inferiors and the sturdy character that was behind it. Few sights bring laughs heartier or more kindly than that of a weak man who, imagining himself the equal of a strong who treats him as an equal, essays to do as lie does. Such laughs are free from the petulance that comes from contempt when in the innocent mimic are seen qualities more easily imitated, and they are those which make the genuine freeman everywhere. Inter marriages, not frequent, with few exceptions, lowered not as much as they exalted. They produced a race having for forms neither more nor less regard than they were believed to be entitled to, as exponents and conveyances of true manhood and true womanhood. On a plane much lower, yet not far dissimilar, were the relations of the white people to negroes. Constant close contiguity to their owners gave rise to humanity and fidelity. In no portion of the country was domestic and community police upon a scale of less vigilance or greater security than on plantations " Father," said Alice after breakfast. " you should have heard Susie this morning commenting upon what seemed to her carelessness in guarding these premises at night, and Eliza's answer. Susie said to me ; * Law, Miss Alice ! Dee don't shet nare single door in all dis big house of a night, let 'lone winders. I speck your pa, he so rich, he don' min' what people can steal.' " " And how answered Lizy ? I'll be bound for her to undertake to clear up the mystery." 218 WIDOW GUTHRIE. " ' Gal,' said Lizy, ' you astes dat question 'cause you ain' never lived nowliar 'cept in a big town, whar peo ple has to lock up what dee got, or keep dey eye on it. But up here, it's differ' nt. Marster know his niggers ain' gwine steal from him, en ef anybody else niggers comes prowlin' around here of a night our dogs would make sich a racket somebody would wake up en chase 'em off befo' dee could lay day han' on anything to steal it en k'yar it off out'n dis house, en den may be come up wid 'em en git some of dey hide. Marster, warm night like dis, he ain' studdin' 'bout rogues ; wlmt he studdin' 'bout is keepin' hisself cool." " Good for Lizy ! That's as satisfactory an answer as I could have made, and in more expressive language." About two hours afterward, while her father was out somewhere on the plantation, Alice received her first visit. It was from an elderly lady who dwelt a couple of miles away on a small tract adjoining Mr. Ludwell's. She came riding upon a mare followed by a colt, and alighted upon a block in the grove before she was observed. Hearing the youngster whinnying, Alice looked out, and ran to assist the visitor to the house. "Why, howdye, Mrs. Buck ?" she said, putting her self within her embrace. " I knew you wouldn't be long in corning to see me after you heard I was here. How are you, and all the rest ? " " Howdye, Alice ? Monstrous glad to see you, child. But now, stop now right here before we go any furder, and let me give some directions to Abom I see him a-comin' yonder about that mar', and special about that colt, which I do think they're the biggest fool things colts, I mean in this whole troublesome world. Abom," MRS. BUCK. 219 she continued, addressing herself to a negro man who had come up to take the mare, " when you put her up, you better lock the barn door, because if you don't, that animal of a colt he'll muander everywhere, all over the lot, and what he can't manage to jump over, he'll jump intoo, and if for nothin' else but for jes a-goin' every whar whar he have no business a-goin'. 'Tweren't I made up my mind before I left home to stay to dinner, and may be toward the shank of the evenin' like, I'd a not let him come. You understand me, Abom, does you ? It's to fix him w T har he can't jump nother over anything ner intoo it, nor meddle with it no ways." " Oh, yes'm, Miss Buck," he answered with the con descending respect usually paid by negroes to humble white friends of their owners, " I'll fix him so he k'yarn hurt nothin', nor git hurted hisself." " That's right, Abom. How you been, Alice ? Seem like to me you're some thinner than w T hen I see you last time you was here, although you ain't altered so mon strous powerful much, like some girls does when they git married and go off from their parrents, and when they come back home they look like they been dragged through a bresh-heap or somethin'. The more I look at you, the more you look like yourself. How's your ma ? Ah, here she is, to speak for herself." Mrs. Ludwell met her at the foot of the steps, and with Alice assisted her to ascend. " The good Lord help your two souls, both of you ! I don't need all that to git in, nor none of it, in fact." Yet pleased, she submitted to the escort, and when she was seated upon a large rocker, in answer to the in vitation to remove her bonnet, she took off the vast 220 WIDOW GUTHRIE. straw covering, plucked at every point of imaginary derangement of her cap, at length suffered Alice to re adjust it, and the while looked at her mother and her alternately. " I do believe the child will look jes like you when she gits your age, and she's a-beginnin' to look it now." " Oh, thank you, Mrs. Buck," Alice said. " Well you may thank me, child ; for she was pretty as a pink, and she hold her own, to my opinion, oncom- mon well. Warm, ain't it ? Yes, as you all's Ander was drivin' the k'yart by my house on the way to mill, I hailed him and ast how all was, and he said all was well as common, and then he up, he did, and he told me that his Miss Alice come last night, and I made up my mind I wanted to see how the child look, and hear her tell all about herself, and I told her she looked thin, but yit she grow more like herself as I keep on a-lookin' at her. The good Lord know I'm proud to see her once more and a-lookin' so nice and well. And how you like livin' in town, Alice, or do you think you got usen- ed to it yit ? Look like you been thar long enough." " Oh, right well, Mrs. Buck ; but not as well as home." " Ah, now, thar it is ! Wlmt made you quit it, then ? Howbeever, it's never worth anybody's while to ast sich questions as that of young wimmens. They'll all quit their home when the time comes for 'em to think they must drap thar parrents and go off a-follerin' a man. Your own ma done the same, and me too, and my daughter done it, and them that don't it's mostly be cause the man didn't come for 'em, or if he did, it wer'n't the right one, or he didn't 'pears to them he MRS. BUCK. 221 were the right one, and I suppose it's the natur' of peo ple, and I've never yit decided in my own mind which is the best, and I've a mighty nigh come to the conclu- din' that it's mostly accordiri' to people theirself and the way they act, married or single, and behave theirselves and not be too easy to find fau't or to be found fau't with." At that moment, Susie, the baby in her arms, came out to say something to Alice. The old lady, after a prolonged stare, cried : " Why, bless my souls alive ! Why, Alice ! Why, Missis Ludwell ! you never told me nor sent me word that Alice had a baby ! Why, I thought her baby died when it was born, and I never heard she had ary 'noth- er ! Why, I am took back ! Fetch it here, 'oman, and lay it right here in my lap, and let me see who o' the family it's like. My ! That is news ! I wonder nobody sent me no words ; because common as babies is, some how it's a ruther interestin' thing to me when another of 'em comes, and special when a body knows their mother, ef not their father. I suppose the good Lord made people so, special them of the women tribe. Fetch it along here." Alice, blushing somewhat, told the child's brief his tory, and added : " But I love it very much, Mrs. Buck it seems to me nearly as much as if it were my own." " Well," said Mrs. Buck when the child was laid in her lap, "a sweeter-lookin' ner a good-lookiner baby I don't know the time ! But Alice is mistakened, ain't she, Missis Ludwell, when she talk about a-lovin' it the same ef it were hern ? No, child, sich as that ain't 'cordin' to 222 WIDOW GUTHB1E. iiatur', and it's right it ain't. Well, well, it look like a pity for sich a leetle teeny bit of a thing to have to have its mother took away from it. But the good Lord allays knows what's best for them that's took, and them that's left behind. You may take it now, 'oman I'm thankful it fell into hands that'll try to do a mother's part by it. You didn't tell me if it was a boy or if it was a girl, for that make a great diffunce, special' in motherless children. I wonder at myself I never ast that question sooner. People gen'ly does, me among 'em. Girl, eh ? Well mayby that's all for the best, too. Girls, I've often notussed, is a more comfort to their parrents and them that has the keer of 'em than boys, and when they git married, they most always is, special' to their mothers ; for somehow I don't know how it is, but it's so, that a mother can git along with a son-in- law when they mayn't not so easy with a daughter-in- law, which my expeunce is, that's a often a case that a body might call tech-and-go. Howbeever, if when a mother that have her son's wife close by, if she'll try to be prudent, and not be too jealous in her mind, or try not show it if she can't he'p it, why, in them case they can all manage so as to keep some sort o' peace from risin' in families, as the sayin' is. Yes, you may take it now, my 'oman, and God A'mighty bless the po' inno cent thing ! I got to take up my knittin' ; I brung that along, as' I made up my mind I'd spend the day, if it was convenant, and I want you all to tell me if it ain't." "Of course it is, my dear Mrs. Buck," answered the hostess, " it is always so. Mr. Ludwell would be much disappointed when he returns if he found that MRS. BUCK. 223 you had been here and not stayed to dinner, and so would Alice and I." " All right, then," she said, taking from her pocket a large ball of yarn and an unfinished stocking, " now I feel satisfied in my mind. I didn't know but what Alice bein' jest come, you and her pa mout want to have her all to yourself for a day or so. I thought once't, yes, twice't, I thought I'd wait tell to-morrow ; but, tell the truth, I were that anxious to see the child, and git the news she had before it got cold and her a tired o' tellin' of it, that I jes couldn't stay away. So I made 'em put the side-saddle on Bliody, and I got my ridin'- skeert, and I come along, colt and all, and I do think if they can't run up and down, up and down, and git over more ground to no onuseless purpose. But I give directions to Abom to put 'em whar he couldn't romp over inter every place whar he had no business a-goin', nor break his naik ner skin his laigs ner cripple his- self a-tryin'. Horses is convenant things to have, but it's troublesome and resky, jes like childern, to raise 'em from colts." Having disposed herself comfortably for her work and for listening, she asked Alice to begin and tell her, if not all she knew, such portions as would not tire her too much. " I hain't never see your town, ner I never expect to ; but they tell me it's laid oif reg'lar, same as g'yar- den beds, and everybody thar have to shinny on his own side, as the sayin' is. Don't it 'pears like to you that things down thar is crowded and jammed in agin one 'nother ruther much for comfort, so to speak, raised, as you been, whar thar's plenty of a'r for every- 224 WIDOW GUTHRIE. body man and beast ? I do jes wonder what that colt o' Rhody's would think if he was turned a loose down thai* one time. I wouldn't be 'tall surprised ef it wouldn't jes fling him into fits, if the things could have 'em." She laughed heartily at this pleasant conceit. Alice, with as much accuracy as possible, answered her many questions about Clarke, its crowded thorough fares, its five stores, its three churches, its two schools, its three physicians, its four lawyers, its court-house, its jail, its two blacksmith shops, its two shoemaker shops, its carpenter shop, its wheel and wagon shop, its tan-yard. The main difficulty was how to make the listener comprehend how it was that so many people, none or but a few of them of kin, could live and keep peace from rising all huddled together in that way, everybody seeing into everybody's business, hearing everything they said, jostling one another everywhere up and down, by and large, not able to eat, have a little chatting in desired tones, or even doing a necessary bit of domestic scolding, which, in her opinion, was just as important as bread and meat, without people's hearing and going off laughing and talking about it, and maybe some of them having no more manners than to be doing such as that right before a body's face, all of which, be sides others that might be, and that were mentioned by her, had made her decide in her mind that some people might get their consent to live in that way, but, as for herself, nobody might ever expect such a thing of Charity Buck, because, to go no further, she did not believe all such as that to be healthy. Yet she was thankful to be relieved of some of the most painfully MRS. BUCK. 225 compassionate of the cogitations that her mind had been used to indulge regarding so abnormal an exist ence. Her mind reverting to the child that had just been lying upon her lap, she said : " And you hain't never had a child o' your own, Alice that is leastways nare livin' child. Well, in the times I ain't been at work which is inons'ous sildom and sometimes even when I has, my mind, a all onbe- knowin' to myself, it have run on childern, and on them that has a many one of 'em and them that has less and some few that although if so be they're married ever so long they has none, not nare one ; for I'm not talkin' about them that the law and the good book don't allow sich a thing ef they can hender which sometimes they can't but which that's neither here nor thar, only I kin but be always sorry in my mind when I hear uv sich a acs'dent; but what I am talkin' about, if I can make myself plain, is that it seem like and it 'pear like to me that them the good Lord do send, he send 'em ac- cordin' to his notion, and not people's not even them that has 'em, be they rich or be they po'. And it's the same with niggers and other kind o' prop'ty, and that I've notussed in my time they sildom and not always goes together, childern and niggers, but a most always sip'rate, them with the moest childern havin' the fewest niggers, and them with a houseful o' childern some times havin' nare nigger to their name. And, to my opinion, it's accordin' to the lots of people, and they got no right to complain, as some does. Now here's Alice, and thar's my Sallann, that you both got married in a munt o' one 'nother, which your ma give her and had made for her every stitch o' weddin' close, same as she 15 226 WIDOW GUTHRIE. done for you, that she's already got two childern, and you nare one that is, of your own, Yit nare one of you got rights to find fau't, which 'twern't for my warnin', Sallann mout of done it, they crowdin' in on her so rapid. For I told Sallann, and she knowed it without my tellin' of her, that I got married when I were fifteen year old, and I had fourteen childern right straight along until my husband died, and of course after that I quit ; but if are one o' em ever wanted somethin' to eat and couldn't git it, I never 'membered the times. I know you ain't forgot Sallann Buck, though they moved clear 'cross the Oconee Kiver." "Of course, we couldn't forget her, Mrs. Buck. She was of the same age as our little Ellen, you know," Mrs. Ludwell said. " Yes, yes ; and how well I 'members that child ! that both them childern was took with the measles when they was ten year old apiece, and they was o' them kind all a body and the doctor could do, the things wouldn't come out. And Mr. Ludwell, he rid over to my house every single day, and he never told me, but the doctor told me Mr. Ludwell told him not to spar pains with Sallann, no more than he spar'd 'em with his child, and he'd see all about it, and shore enough, Sallann she scuffled through, but poor little Ellen, she had to go, and it look like a pity, because you didn't have but four children, and me but you knowed it was the good Lord, and you didn't find fau't with him." Tears came in all eyes. After drying ftfcrs, Mrs. Buck said : " But, Alice, you hain't told me about the old lady MRS. BUCK. 227 Gruthrie. I reckon she'd put on her dignified if she was to hear I called her old, though they ain't five year diffunce in me and her age. She was always active, I tell you, and she wer'n't afeard o' nobody, male nor female, people nor Injun. She never mar ried tell she were a old girl, but, of course, that were because her time hadn't come. But she was active ; I tell you she was active, and everybody said she married suitable and well. Her son that got you was a beauti ful young man, the onlest time I ever see him, the night you and him was married. But tell me, how is all her healths 2 I hope, if she ain't as active as she w r us yit she's reason'ble peert. Our people all knowed her younger sister some the best. She never hilt her head away up high like Hester." She enjoyed well her visit, and so did all, including Mr. Ludwell, with whom at dinner she had many a merry jest. She knew herself to be an ever-welcome guest at that long table where a hospitality was dis pensed that never led to abuse, and was good for both the receiver and the giver. When it was time to go, she got a promise from Alice of a visit as soon as she had rested well, and she acknowledged to a feeling of pride when assured by Abrain that the colt had behaved as well as could be expected in one of his age. 228 WIDOW GUTHRIE. CHAPTER XXIY. MB. LUDWKLL INTERPOSES. THE visit of Mrs. Buck Alice felt to have done her some good service. The witness of contentment in a condition that had been so limited always, of a trust in Divine Providence that made sorrow more en durable and cheerfulness, even humor, more cordial, living near by and to a degree intimate with abundant prosperity with never a sigh of envy or painful sense of inferiority, these, she felt, ought to subdue some of the bitterness and the apprehension that were upon her own heart. No allusion was made during all that day to her own peculiar case ; but on the next morning when her father had again ridden out, her mother said : "Alice, I've been thinking much about what you told me the night you came. I haven't said anything to your father ; you must talk with him yourself after a while, if you don't feel better. He will know what to say and how to advise. I do not. What you've been going through has been so far away from my own experience that really I am at a loss to know what to say, except one thing. You spoke of not being able to endure this affliction if certain things about Mr. Guthrie and Miss Jewell were as you fear. Why, my dear child, you ought to try to nerve yourself to bear any thing that may come that can not be avoided. Mr. Guthrie is a young man used to gay society, and may have been tempted in a way that some men, right in other respects, are weak enough to yield to, although in their hearts they feel themselves to be and are true to MR. LUDWELL INTERPOSES. 229 all other obligations. I think I know of a case or two where women have tried to ignore that weakness in their husbands and thus have seemed to be losing com paratively little of married happiness. They endure because they have to endure or undergo the disgrace of a divorce, which you know nobody, husband or wife, has ever sued for in this whole region, and a man and his wife living separate doesn't look very much different." " I feel better, mother, since I've been here that is, I'm not so prostrate in heart since I've disclosed every- thing to you, and I mean to try to follow the counsel that you and father give. I had made up my mind to endure any degree of faithlessness to myself ; but if that other be true that an innocent woman has been maligned the question will be, how can an honorable woman endure to live with a man without honor and without pity, and take the risk " She covered her face with her hands, as if she would hide even from her mother the blushes that burned like fire. " You, dear mother," she resumed, turning again, " can not put yourself in my case, having such a hus band as father." " No, perhaps not ; still, my child, our Lord never subjects those who trust in him to burdens that hut oh, I know not what to say. Talk to your father." " No, mother, I want you to do that for me. I can not. I can not look up into that clear, good, manful face, and make an admission so fall of deadly shame. You do it for me, mother, and then tell me what he says. I will follow his advice if it is to lead me to death or madness." 230 WIDOW GUTHRIE. " Well, well ; I'll do so to-night." After supper, Alice said : " I think I'll go to bed early to-night, feeling a little fatigued." " Now," said her father, " that's what I call sensible, and I'm glad to hear you say so. You and your mother kept yourselves up too long the first night you reached here, and perhaps you got rather tired of poor old Mrs. Buck's long visit, though I would hope not, as it did her a deal of good to come to see you." " By no means, father ; I was very glad that she came and spent the whole day with us. I like her very much, and she knows it I am sure. I am only a little jaded from going about so much lately and going through scenes, some unhappy and others rather trying. I'll be all right to-morrow." " I hope so ; indeed, I know so, as soon as you get needed rest. The baby is all right, and looks as if she felt as much at home as anybody." She retired early as she said. After she had gone, her father, drawing his chair close to his wife, said : " Ellen, something is the matter with Alice, I feel sure. She may have told you what it is, but she has not me. Now, if it is anything that she prefers I shouldn't know, of course I won't ask to be told. I am afraid, what I have suspected all along, that Guthrie is not acting toward her as he ought. A man that is capa ble of maltreating his own sister, or seeing it done, if he takes a notion, is apt to maltreat his wife ; and if this is so, I think I ought to know it. I do hope in my soul it isn't, but I am v.ery much concerned. The poor child tries to be cheerful ; it is positively pitiful to see the struggle she makes." MR. LUDWELL INTERPOSES. 231 " Now, husband, IVe been intending to have a talk with you about Alice, and I do hope that you'll try to keep calm. As it is, IVe been so excited by what she's told me of her troubles that I've hardly enjoyed her visit at all, and if you get excited too " Never mind about that, my dear. Let me have the facts, and then if I can't take care of any excite ment that may come, the excitement will have to take care of itself, that's all. Give me the facts." When she had made her report, which had much, but not too much of detail, her husband, in an apparently indifferent tone, answered : " Yes ; at his old tricks, I see, from which it is always hard to break a dog, whether he has four legs or only two." Then he rose and walked the circuit of the piazza several times, occasionally pausing near the edge and contemplating the stars, as if among them he would search for a solution that would be wise and prudent. After some time he stopped before his wife, and, raising his arm on high, said in a tone that, striving to be not loud, made up in tremor and in depth : " Ellen ! By God ! Do you think Alice is asleep ? No, no ; I'd better not wake her. What I'd say would be too painful for her to hear. Poor, poor child ! " Again he turned arid took a brief walk, slower than before, and afterward said : " May be she would rather I wouldn't say anything about this matter to Tier. The loyalty of her true heart might be too sorely wounded. But I'll tell you what I have decided upon. You say she has permission from her gracious lord and master to remain here three or 232 WIDOW GUTHRIE. four weeks. My prediction is that it will be longer than that, and if she will follow my advice, as I expect to offer it after I've looked into matters somewhat, she'll never consent for him to put his eyes upon her again ; and if she does not, and he comes here, I'll run him off with the dogs. I haven't a doubt that her suspicions are well founded. If they are, he is worse than an assassin ! From what you tell me about Macfarlane's daughter holding to the young woman, I feel as sure of her innocence as I could be of any fact of whose truth I had not positive assurance from personal witness. As soon as I can get through with work here, that for a week or so longer will need my special supervision, I am going down to Clarke, and I'll find out the whole truth. Duncan Guthrie may believe that he can fool that unsuspicious child, but, by the God of heaven, he shall not deceive me ! If he had only done what some men with half-and-half wives, and even occasionally one with a wife a great deal better than himself, are tempted to do, I wouldn't say one word, except to advise her to go on back to him and submit and bear. But, if he has sought to ruin a friendless woman, and then, in order to shield himself from odium and other punishment that such outrage deserves, undertaken to blast her reputa tion, I say, let him go his way down alone ! You may let her know my opinion. I shall not even hint the subject to her ; and perhaps, for the present at least, she'd better not mention it to me. But tell her this, my dear, that she owes to you and me, and she owes more to herself, to try to cast away all her troubled thoughts, and, taking care of herself, wait for deliver anceand expect it, by the living God ! " SEABORN TORRANCE. Taking his hat and his cane, he went out and did :.iot return until the night was half spent. CHAPTER XXV. SEABORN TORRANCE. PEOPLE used to say that if ever a man had been born a lawyer, it was Seaborn Torrance. All during the period of his childhood, in the issues of domestic and school life, wherein sweetmeats and playthings were prizes to be striven for, and the hickory or peach tree switch the penalties to be shunned, he had an adroitness both in attack and defense which with par ents and schoolmasters often prevailed, contrary to the evidence, not only before the rendition of judgment, but after it. " It won't ever do," his mother used to say, " to let Seaborn go to talking when you've made up your mind that he's got to be whipped for something that you know he's either done or neglected ; for if you do, he'll either convince you or he'll manage to persuade you that you are mistaken in your very own eyes or ears, or he'll make you feel ashamed of yourself for making such a great ado about such a little thing ; or he'll actually quote you against yourself, so to speak, by reminding you that you let somebody else off from punishment for the same thing, or something that's no worse than that. And then positively when you've had to shut your eyes in order to give him what you know 234 WIDOW GUTHRIE. he deserves, after you are through with him, he'll look at you so that you feel sorry you've done it, and in such way he'll get off many and many a time afterward. I do think, on my soul, that's he's got the pleadingest mouth I ever heard in all my days." With a fair common education, such as he could ob tain at a neighborhood old-field school, at seventeen he went to work on his widowed mother's small farm, and having purchased, with the first cotton money he had made, a copy of Blackstone's Commentaries, he read it in the times of leisure, which seldom came except of nights and Sundays. By the time he was one and twenty, he was admitted to the bar in his native county. The successes gained in trials before the courts of jus tices of the peace and in petty trials in the inferior court of the county, which at that time had jurisdiction co-ordinate with the superior court except as to appeals, equity, land titles, and criminal trials, were not long in attracting attention. The fluency of his speech, his vigilance during the progress of a case, his aptitude in the direct and cross questioning of witnesses, his adroit ness in getting continuances of weak or insufficiently prepared issues, the quickness with which he seized upon a point made favorable to his client by a word or omission of a witness or an admission of his adversary, the promptness and vigor with which he assailed a weak point in the latter, his imperturbability while standing before the judge and the old great lawyers, seeming not even to notice their smiles at any crude- ness in his conduct of a case, a natural eloquence that knew how to be nervous or persuasive or pathetic, these soon brought him into good practice. By the SEABORN TORRANCE. 235 time lie was forty, nobody Avould say that in the North ern circuit, or in any one of the three adjacent, they knew his superior, especially in defense of suits involv ing complicated accounts and inaccurate, conflicting testimony. He was now forty-live, in full practice that for some years past had been occupied mainly in suits where important moneys were involved. These took him often out of his circuit. It had got to be said that it must be a desperate case indeed wherein, if Seaborn Torrance could not gain or save the condemnation money to his client, he could not at least put off its pay ment until time or other such auxiliary could subdue the triumph of the adversary and mitigate the discom fiture of his client. Among the profession his standing as a man of honor had never been impeached seriously. His word of promise was regarded as trustworthy as his written obligation, and all knew his courage to be unquestion able. When rallied pleasantly, or perchance with some seriousness, by an intimate personal friend, or one whom he recognized as an entirely honorable opponent, for what seemed too severe a straining of the law or the evidence, he replied with coolness and sincerity that his client, like any other man, was entitled to every benefit and advantage that the law had provided, as well as to the exertion of the best powers of his counsel. He often said : " People that complain of lawyers who avail them selves of the law's opportunities are after the wrong quarry. If anything deserves reprobation it is the law itself, which they made and provided, and with which they don't find fault when it is employed in their own 236 WIDOW GUTHRIE. behalf. It is a very easy and sometimes a very conven ient and pleasant thing to condemn others ; but intro spection, close introspection, in my time I have found not often." Yet he would have driven out of his office one who would even have intimated a wish for him to do or attempt anything that he regarded dishonorable, and perhaps with a kick accelerated his exit, and he would have fought any man who would have insinuated an aspersion upon his professional integrity. There were those a few who were regarded superior to him in le gal learning. He knew this, yet he never indulged a thought of envy ; for in the conduct of complicated cases through all their intricacies he well knew himself to be without a peer. " JSTo, Guthrie," he said after Duncan had stated the case and given his mother's message, " I doubt if it's the thing for me to go to Clarke right away, unless you think I might have more influence than yourself with those fellows regarding the status on which to put the case, and unless we ought to see how they feel about a continuance of it until both sides can maiufiiivre and find out what chances there are for a compromise, pro vided -such a tiling is thought well of by your mother. A continuance is important for her, as you can easily see, being in the defense. Besides, I expect I know more than you do of the opinion of people in your county about the way your father's estate has been man aged. It might hurt to have the case brought on while people will be talking. It's better to wait until that slackens or gives place to something else which they'll think it's their business, instead of the courts, to decide. SEABORN TORRANCE. 237 Meanwhile we will be getting the case better and better in hand. We may want to get Suttle's testimony. At ull events, it must seem so. I don't doubt that they'll wish to have it, supposing that he'd of course do what he could to bolster up his own action. So about Butch er. We must find him if possible. Some time, not very far off, you and I must get out some interrogatories tor him, if you know, or can find out if he's alive, and where he lives. If not, so much the better for us, at least for a while. I'm rather glad, as your mother's counsel, that the fellow has moved away. There was a good deal of prejudice, I remember, among some people against Suttle. It may be no particular disadvantage to us that he has not become so known to fame that his domicile can be easily ascertained. Yes, yes, that's all so, it seems to me, looking at the case at this ! stage." " I'd much rather you would go, Mr. Torrance," answered Guthrie earnestly. " Mother would be better satisfied. Then, I feel so outraged with these men, Tolly and Bond, Tolly especially, for giving me not a word of notice of intention to bring this suit, and for the harsh terms which needlessly they have put in some of the allegations of their bill, that I do not feel like saying a word to either of them, especially one that would sound as if I had apprehension or would desire at their i hands any sort of indulgence." " I see, I see. Then I will go. Perhaps it may be as well any how to have an early conference with your mother. Her mind, woman as she is, and not as young as she used to be, is naturally bothered, and may be a little fretted, and a good solid talk, all of us together, 238 WIDOW GUTHRIE. might tend to relieve it somewhat. Yes, I'll go along with you to-morrow morning." He knew all the time that he was going ; but he meant for his doing so to be admitted urgent, and there fore insisted upon. Noticing the satisfaction of Guth- rie from this announcement, he continued : " Yes, I've no doubt that your mother is considera bly harrassed. Do you know, my young friend, that I always preferred to defend such cases to prosecut ing them ? Of course, I speak without reference to their particular merits. Somehow I always feel easier in mind and stouter when I'm on the defense. Who was that old English fellow ? Walpole ? Yes, it was old Walpole. You remember what he said about dis turbing things that are quiet 1 Quieta non movere is the way he put it. Those English lawyers are always better up in their classics than we are over here. But it's a good maxim. It always went rather against the grain with me to begin the stirring up of litigation against people, especially old people, and more espe cially old women (begging your mother's pardon), years and years after the transactions have passed, and people have been seeming to acquiesce in their results, until most of those who knew about them have gone away, either to the grave or somewhere else where it's about as hard to find them. I've seen so much distress from such things that I've got about where I will not appear for a plaintiff in one of them unless I can see that his case is perfectly clear, and that either from ignorance or some other sufficient cause he has not instituted proceedings before. Even then my advice invariably is to accept a compromise that seems to me fair, or SEABORN TORRANCE. 230 roarly fair. Many people don't believe that about me. 1'ut what do I care ? It is my business to get for my c lent if I can all his legal rights ; the generosity part and the charity part and all such as that are his own. I counsel compromise, but it's neither my duty nor my right to undertake to enforce it. In defense, I fight every assault, and there, if needed, I hang my client's banner on the outward wall. There, too, as I am going to do in this case of your mother's, I can and I do counsel compromise. How would she feel like acting on that line, eh, Guthrie ? You, too ? Peace, sometimes like other things of value has to be pur chased, and there are occasions when it is at a higher price and, indeed, is worth more than at others. Don't you think so ? " u Certainly. I should be more than willing for a compromise, Mr. Torrance, that was at all fair. I have always desired that is, since I have been grown that my sister should have more of the estate, and she would have got it but for her unequal marriage " I see, I see," interrupted Mr. Torrance, looking another way. " At least what my mother considered unequal. In deed, she offered other property to her, but upon con ditions that made her refuse to accept it." \" I see, I see," and he nodded his head up and down o or three times. " I have not suggested to her any proposal, because she is not in a state of mind to consider it, at least when coining from me. My mother believes herself to have been wholly in the right in all she has done, Mr. Tor rance, and " 240 WIDOW GUTHRIE. " No doubt about that, Guthrie," he interposed quickly, spreading forth his hands, " not a shadow of a doubt about that. That, my opinion is, nobody will ever doubt. I am speaking in entire sincerity. The only question is how much, if anything at all, how much she can be made to consent to lay down to the end of buying her peace." " So I regard it, and I trust that you will be able to convince her of its importance." " Well, Guthrie," he said, going to a file of papers and withdrawing a bundle, u as you think it is best, I'll go with you in the morning, and pe-nise around, as coun try people say, and feel of Tolly, and that other young chap, if he's there still. Tom isn't a bad fellow, Guth rie, and he's very far from being a bad lawyer. I'm glad he isn't either one of them ; for you can always deal more satisfactorily with such a lawyer as him than one that has neither sense nor principle. Bond, I never saw but twice, at your last court and, before that, at Washington Court, in the Middle Circuit. The Au gusta lawyers that I meet down there tell me he's prom ising, quite so. I don't remember now who it was that said that he suspected Bond of being at Clarke more for the sake of that fine-looking Miss Jewell than the little business he had there. I saw her at your mother's, at the party she gave that week. My ! but what a mag nificent creature ! By the way", I haven't told you what an impression your mother made on me. then. Grand woman, sir ! I'm not flattering her at all, nor you, either ; but she looked like a queen, and her head is full of sense. I just now remember that she told me that same night that if she should ever have an MR. TOREANCE GOES TO CLARKE. 241 important law case, she wanted me for counsel. I did not dream of it's coming, especially so soon. But it shows the head she's got for looking forward. Well," resuming his seat, and beginning to untie the bundle, " if we can't get out of them terms such as your mother will be satisfied with, all I've got to say is that we'll ! <;eep those young lawyers waiting longer for their fees :han they have been counting on. To-morrow morn ing, Guthrie, to-morrow morning, as soon after break fast as I can get off." CHAPTER XXYI. ME. TOBEANCE GOES TO OLAEKE. ME. TOEEANCE spent an hour at -his office the next morning in writing some letters which he said could not be delayed, and then they set out upon their jour ney of forty miles. Conversation in this mode of travel was more practicable than persons nowadays might suppose. Often the light two-wheel vehicles could get side by side, especially in that season when the red roads, though frequently ascending and descend ing, were almost as hard as if they had been macad amized. Law, politics, agriculture, incidents in the lives of common acquaintances, whatever was suggested by accident or otherwise, they discussed at intervals. Not often was reference made to the business on "which they were going. Occasionally the elder, who traveled behind, getting alongside, put an inquiry about 16 242 WIDOW GUTHEIE. one or another matter touching the value and items of the Guthrie estate and the several investments that had been made by the executrix, and suggested a point of the law that was likely to rise during the litigation. But this last required too constant nearness to make it satisfactory, and so they chose to chat at random. At about noon they halted for their luncheon. It was a good one ; for Mrs. Torrance knew how to provide for her husband's taste. While he was cutting his favorite meat, he said : " Guthrie, have you noticed that very few women know how to prepare ham for a lunch ? They either broil it, or fry it, or sandwich it boiled, and it gets to be so dry that I won't eat it if I can do any better. Now my wife, whenever she has timely notice that I'm going away from home, has boiled for me a piece of the hough end of a ham, with the skin on ; hear me ? with the skin on. Now that chicken, and that pigeon, and that cake and preserves she put in for you." " I thank her very much. They are delightful. I'm quite content to leave to you all of your favorite morsel." " Ah, ha, that's because you are not old enough, and haven't traveled enough and have been too little out of town life to know any better. If it had been that I was going by myself, my wife wouldn't have thought of putting that stuff in the sulky box, knowing that I'd give them to the first negro I met." Guthrie admired his simplicity less than the hearti ness with which in his one item he made up fully for . his abstinence from the others. "There, now," he said to the remains, "wrapping MR. TORRANCB GOES TO CLARKE. 243 :hem in the clotli, " you'll do for to-morrow, and I'll j;et some fresh biscuits and corn bread from my friend airs. Junkin." Once during the afternoon, after getting closer, he jailed out : "I say, Guthrie, that Miss Jewell; blamed if I don't think about her often, old as I am, and married, 10 boot. I never saw a finer-looking woman. She made me almost wish I'd had on finer clothes; I'll .swear she did. They tell me she's accomplished, too. That don't look fair on other young women. However, nhe hasn't got money nor negroes, and that takes off .something. It seems like a pity for her to have to keep Bchool for a living. If Bond wants her and has busi ness enough for both of them to live on, I'm not sure but that she'd do well to take him. It don't require so very much to begin such as that with. Two can live together cheaper than they can apart, and then these Northern women know better than ours how to econo mize and manage generally. Eh ? " " I incline to think that perhaps she would be doing well enough, Mr. Torrance." " If the fellow is in dead earnest, and you think his chances are -rather slim and we find that he's too well posted in our case, how would it do to well, to try and gi ve him as good a lift as you can with a friendly word of compliment to his princess ? If I knew her well blamed if I wouldn't! No harm in it. Might turn out the very thing for her, and such things do a cause good one way and another. "What do you say, Guthrie?" " I know too little of either of them, sir, to take or to feel any interest in their affairs." WIDOW GUTHRIE. , "Hoo, hoo!" ejaculated the other softly, falling back and soliloquizing. " Screw loose somewhere, cer tain, and that only lately ; for I saw you that night at your mammy's looking at Bond and her as a falcon watches a hawk after a partridge. Screw loose." Then he suggested another topic as remote as possi ble. They reached Clarke a little before sunset. Guthrie invited his senior to sojourn at liis mother's, apologiz ing for not being able to take him to his own house. " 'No, oh, no, Guthrie. I never talk to a woman on business at night if I can help it, and I advise you to adopt the same rule. Women are more nervous than men, because they can't take in every side of a subject that troubles, and every danger that threatens, and when they are thrown out of their accustomed sleep it hurts them. I'll fall in at Junkin's. Junkin, or rather his wife, knows how to make a fellow quite comfortable, considering what a lumbering establish ment they've got of it. Yes, I'll hold up there, thank you, Guthrie. Tolly boards there, you know, and if he's at home and don't propose to go out sparking among the girls, I'll tackle him in a friendly way and find out if I can how much confidence he's got in tlie range of his gun. Tell your mother, after my best re spects and thanks, that I'll call up at her house to-mor row morning at nine o'clock, or, if she'll send me word, at any hour that will better suit her convenience. And tell her I say not to let herself be made too uneasy. It does no sort of good, but it does several sorts of harm to worry over a matter like this, which may take a'long time to settle and which, I tell you again, will take a long time unless it's settled to her satisfaction." MR. TORRANCE GOES TO CLARKE. 245 He halted when he arrived at the hotel, and Guthrie, turning his horse, drove on to his mother's. She was looking out in evident anxious expectation, her cap and hor cape and the ruffles around her wrist showing that sLe wished to appear as well as possible to her distin guished guest. " Where is Seaborn Torrance, Duncan ? " she called by the time he was half-way from the gate. He did n( t answer until he had reached the steps. It was a way he had the only one even partially effective of curbing her impetuosity. A remonstrance such as that, coming from him sometimes, as now, softened her. " How have you been, mother, these two days ? I'd like to know that first, if only from courtesy." She put out her straight hand, saying : " I've been well, my son ; how have you been ? I didn't mean to be impolite." " I've been quite well, I thank you. Mr. Torrance stopped at the tavern. He sent you his regards, and said that he would call upon you to-morrow morning at nine o'clock, if the time suited you." " Ah, well, then. I was afraid when I saw you by yourself that he hadn't come, and it mistered me some. Yes ; that'll suit well enough ; but I'd a heap rather he had come .to-night. How would it do for you to go down after supper and invite him to breakfast, so we can begin on the business that much sooner. I can give him another sort of breakfast to what he'll get there. Suppose you do it, Duncan." " It would be a mistake, mother, I am confident. "We've had a great deal of talk about the case during our all-day ride. He's tired, I am sure, just as I am, 246 WIDOW GUTHRIE. and would prefer to remain there until the time he has appointed." " Very well, then, if you think so. I feel easier, anyhow, since I know he's here. What does he say ? Does he think they can get anything out of me more than I'm willing to allow to the children ? " " He expressed no definite opinion, mother, but said what I knew he would, that he could not form any re liable judgment until he had conferred fully with you and learned all your doings, feelings, and wishes ; but he seemed hopeful that the case could be so managed that it would result nearly, if not entirely, to your rea sonable satisfaction ; and he bade me to say to you, that he hoped that you would not take on any undue anxiety." " That's good ! I knew it ! 3uday \ " she called loudly, looking back; "bring in supper as soon as Chloe has it ready. Your Marse Duncan is hungry. I know he hasn't had anything fit to eat since he's been gone, and I feel like I've got something of an appetite coming back to me. The Lord knows I think it's about time for it." After supper, when, at their accustomed seats, sho had been chatting in a more cheerful tone than for quite a long time, she said suddenly, the thought evi dently having just come to her mind : " Duncan, what is this talk about Miss Jewell \ Judy brings me what news I get, as I don't go out to gather it, and don't want to. But Judy says that some people are wondering what it is that makes her so palo here lately and have so little to say, when she used to be so chatty. And they say that since that frolic you ME. TORRANCE GOES TO CLARKE. 247 all had in my woods, you and Alice both have little or nothing to do with her, and she says they told her that Peterson Braddy said on the street one day, when peo ple were insinuating something about her with which A our name was connected in some way, that she was as line a woman as was in this whole town, or anywhere else, and that whoever said to the contrary was a liar, uid that he was ready and willing any time to make ,>ood his words. Is anything the matter ? " " No, ma'am ; not that I know of. Alice got into u pet that day because I showed Miss Jewell more at tention than she thought I had any right to, and per haps the woman herself may have been rather indis creet. But there's nothing in it, and old Pete would do well to keep his mouth shut, because talking only mag nifies the thing. I wish myself that the woman would get married or go away." " I'm sorry, on her account and Alice's too, that your name has been connected with her's in any way that is not entirely honorable. Charlotte was here yes terday. Louisa sends her to see me sometimes, I sup pose to keep up appearances, though I believe the girl herself likes me right well, and she says that Miss Jewell is as good a woman as any other, and that what talk has been is certain to die out. I was right glad to hear it. As for the woman's being fond of dancing and running on with young men, in my day all girls did it that felt like it whenever they pleased, and no harm ever came of it. It's only for just a few years back, when the Old Virginia Church for want of a bishop in the State has dwindled out to about nothing, that so many denominations and meeting-houses have 24:8 WIDOW GUTHRIE. started up, and all trying to run down one another, that some of them have come to be too good, and they've got to calling fiddling, dancing, and playing cards, and even taking a walk on Sunday sinful, when they're not half as dangerous as when twos and twos get off into cor ners and go to whispering. I am sorry about it all. It's bad enough for a man that has a decent, respectable wife, as Alice is, but it's worse, because it's death, or equal to it, to a woman in Miss Jewell's position. Well, I'm glad it's stopped between you and her. Alice ought to know better about the ways of men, married or not married, when they're with pretty women that will let them take little liberties, and often without thinking even of the slightest thing wrong. And she might know, Alice might, that no harm could come to her, as in her style which, true, it's different from Miss Jewell's she's every bit as good looking. If anybody asks me about it, I'll tell them that it's nothing but that you and the young woman were having a little mis chievous flirtation, and having found out that Alice didn't like it, you, both of you, concluded to break it off, and that in short." " Oh, no, mother ! I'd much rather you wouldn't mention the name of Alice. Just say you know noth ing about it, but that you believe there's nothing in it." " But, Duncan, there is something in it, you ac knowledge yourself." " But in a delicate matter like that people must use some policy, mother." " Ah, well ! I never was one that could make any headway with that. I'll tell you what I'll answer if any- MR. TORRANCE BECOMES LEADING COUNSEL. 249 body ever mentions the thing to me, which I don't ex pect they'll do, and hope they won't ; but if they do, I'll tell them that it takes me all my time to attend to my own business without bothering myself to find out about < >ther people's. How will that do ? " " I think that would be the very best answer you ( ould make." " All right. That's very easily said, and it would 1 >e every bit the truth. I reckon you're getting sleepy. 1 am." He went to his room, glad to be by himself. The honorable, compassionate words which liis mother had spoken of Miss Jewell had cut him deeply and put out all thoughts of the pending lawsuit. He felt that in his efforts to save himself a wrong had been done much more serious than he had foreseen. The words of Peterson Braddy brought painfully to his remem brance those other from the same lips which he had not dared to resent, and it pained but it angered him more to reflect that in this new issue there was no chance to redeem whatever he might appear to others or feel in his own breast to have lost by a conflict with one whom he could meet on equal terms. CHAPTER XXYII. MB. TORRANCE BECOMES LEADING COUNSEL. ME. TOREANCE, as usual, was the life of the supper able. Mrs. Junkin had always a place for him near 250 WIDOW GUTHRIE. the head ; for what he said habitually about the house keeping and other subjects interesting among her class were put in such phrase that indeed she never had any hesitation in saying that of all transient people that came to that tavern and to her table lawyer Torrance was the pleasantest in his speeches and the least fault finding in . his behaviors. She often reported with much pride that over and over again he had said that if there was any place where he felt as he did at home, it was at the Clarke tavern. On this particular occa sion his speeches and behaviors were uncommonly felici tous, and they came very near bringing water into the eyes of the hostess. She felt some moisture there, as she confessed afterward, but she wasn't going to forget herself and go to blubbering right at the table before everybody. " Guthrie," he said, " Duncan Guthrie, Mrs. Junkin you know him, and a bright, smart, intelligent fellow he is too, in his way, and going to make a good lawyer if he lives and keeps on being steady he and I came together from my town to-day. He invited me to go with him and put up at his mother's, where he told me he was staying while his wife was on a visit to her father's t'other side of Broad River. He married a Ludwell up there, you remember, Mrs. Junkin, fine people, rich too, and all that. It was very kind of him, of course, for he's a very polite young man in his manners, and I've been told that the old lady a most remarkable, sensible, excellent woman that she lives well, and has everything nice about her house. But I had to tell Guthrie that no, I'd stop with Mrs. Junkin. I don't re member that I ever mentioned the name of Mister Lawyer Torranee and Mrs. Junkin. ME. TORRANCE BECOMES LEADINQ COUNSEL. 251 Junkin. There he is down yonder, looking as well and as good-providing a fellow as anybody ought ever want to see at the foot of a tavern table. ISTo ; the one I named was Missis Junkin ; for it's her at last that has made this house what it is and given to it the name it's got. The fact is, that when I come to this town of Clarke, and a nice, stylish, clean-looking town it is with fine people living in it, I never even think about stop ping anywhere else but here, right here, where, if any where I know I'm going to feel as I do at home. And I think I was right." Mrs. Junkin merely called to one of the waitresses and said to her : " Go out and tell Mirny to send the hot waffles in fast as she can." "Now, there's my young friend Tom Tolly over there. I call him Tom because I've been knowing his father before he was born, another good man. I'm glad to see, from the way Tom throws his knife and fork and handles cups and tumblers, that he knows and appreciates good things when he can get them. I've been having my hopes about that young man, Mrs. Junkin." Now the lady could exhibit her feelings without embarrassment, and so she smiled right out aloud. " That is, provided, madam, he don't get wild and undertake to go too fast ; there's the danger with these talented young fellows. I'm thankful he's with you, madam, for if there's anybody in this whole town that will have the opportunity and will have the knack at such charitable, and, I may say, missionary work, it is you, who, when you see him rushing into extravagance of any sort, can call him to come right straight to you 252 WIDOW GUTHR1E. and then lay your hand on his shoulder and say : ' See here, young Mr. Tolly, thus far, sir, thus far ! ' Eh, Tolly?" " She does already as you say, Mr. Torrance," an swered Tolly heartily. " Mrs. Junkiii takes first-rate care of me, and scolds me sometimes." " Sometimes ! I think I hear him say ' sometimes.' Mrs. Junkin, I beg you, madam, if not for his sake at least for the sake of his old father and mother, excel lent people that they are, both of them, and, I may add, for the sake of any family which, accidentally as it were, he may stumble on of his own sometime, do, my dear madam, try your best, what time you can leave more important business, try to hold back that rash young man from rushing too fast and spoiling every good prospect before him." It was such a good joke that the whole table, regu lar boarders and transient, all the way down to Mr. Jun kin, laughed out with great heartiness, and both Mr. Torrance and Tolly took another hot waffle apiece and spread their butter on it in high glee. Yet, somehow, in Tolly the feeling of courageous exaltation that came over him at the moment of the arrival of the great law yer, knowing well on what errand he had come, had less ened somewhat while he had been listening as he in dulged in language in which he almost suspected that he could detect a grain of compassionate satire. Mr. Tor rance saw into his thoughts, and immediately began to address him with remarks that indicated all proper re spect for his opinions. After supper, and after all except those two had gone from the piazza, the elder said : MR. TORRANCE BECOMES LEADING COUNSEL. 253 "Tom, move your chair closer here and give me ;;ome account of yourself. Don't light that cigar I see in your mouth unless, from mere patriotic principles, you hold it a duty to smoke such as your town affords. But now try one that is a cigar. I don't ki.ow how it s, but it's so, that I never can find in this borough, re spectable as it is and rich as you all are and proud ac cording, a cigar that's fit to smoke. We don't set up for being very great people in our town, although there's a few that can hold their heads as high as any body I don't mean me and my folks, of course, but a very good fair sprinkling of others who can trace as far back as the best in the land. Yet we would be ashamed to offer to any decent stranger such cigars as you have here. That's right ; only I'd rather have seen you except for economy's sake throw away the one you had, instead of putting it back into your pocket. And now, my illustrious and learned young barrister and affectionate friend, what is all this ado about that most respectable and somewhat aged fellow-citizen of yours whose repose you are seeking to molest ? She sent me word to come up and talk with her about the defense. I haven't seen her yet, but, knowing you as I do, and judging from what I know myself of her and from what Guthrie has told me about her, I don't suppose but what we can settle in a short time what there is in it, unless you fellows want to make a long years-and- years' thing of it. Do you know where that fellow Buttle is, if it's a fair question, and whether or not the )ther witness besides him and Braddy is living or not ? " It had occurred to Tolly and Bond that it might be . T ell, in order to lay a supplemental foundation for 254: WIDOW GUTHRIE. their equity proceeding, to apply for a citation to the executrix to prove the will of Alan Guthrie in solemn form. This must have been done at the next sitting of the Court of Ordinary, which would come in thirty days. Both sides were desirous of postponing this issue, and they knew, of course, that a motion for continuance on account of inability to get in full testimony must prevail. Yet each was unwilling for the other to know of such desire, and Tolly could not but be amused when Mr. Torrance succeeded in getting from him a proposi tion to appeal the whole case by consent to the Superior Court, which would not convene until October. " Oh, yes, yes, Tom, if you and Mr. Bond want it done. I am going to fight the case fairly, and, though I haven't seen her yet, I've no doubt but that the old lady will abide by my counsel and that it will coincide fully with her views and feelings to meet the issue fairly, entirely so. As far as I can see, Tom, I must say to you that I don't think you've got what I should call very much of a case, to say nothing of the Statute of Limitations and what the law calls Lapse of time. Still, it may be best for both sides not to rush together in hot haste, but wait a little and study how to arrange and play their cards." Tolly changed the subject several times, but after ward he had to admit to himself and to Bond that, de spite all his caution, he had let out several things which lie thought that he might as well have kept to himself. They talked to a late hour, and during a greater part of the time Mr. Torrance seemed as if he had forgotten the errand on which he had come. Occasionally he indulged in partially commendatory terms of the need MR. TORRANCE BECOMES LEADING COUNSEL. 255 young lawyers had not to turn away from cases wherein M r as little prospect of obtaining anything beyond the notoriety that was essential. lie retired satisfied of the results of what, not without some humor, he had termed ''feeling" of Tom Tolly. The next morning he was much impressed by the ningled cordiality, grace, and dignity with which he was received by Mrs. Guthrie. In the conference that followed were to be seen his calm wisdom and saga cious comprehending of possibilities dependent, not only upon the law of the case, but the temper, courage, power of endurance, and prudence of the client. He listened with attention, not always fixed, to her long, circumstantial narration. He looked admiringly into her eyes as, always lighted, they flashed occasionally with a resentment which she did not care to repress. Not an item in her conduct, from the first till now, did she seem disposed even to gloss. More than once Dun can felt his cheek burn as she made admissions that he knew to be surprising to Mr. Torrance. Before she was through, the latter had decided to withhold most of the opinion he had to give. When she ceased and looked at him with earnest interrogation, he said : " Yes, madam. I see, I see. I think I understand the business, and I am glad to say that it has less diffi culties than I had apprehended. I am glad, very glad indeed, that you had intended to give your daughter property, although stipulating, as was your perfect right to do, that it should be held for her separate use. It ought to make for your interest that your offer was declined. I am more than glad that you have had it on your mind, since her death, to make over something 256 WIDOW GUTHRIE. (I am sure it would have been a liberal and just allow ance) to her children. Suoh as that is bound to help in the defense of this suit." After other conversation upon the general aspect of the case, he said : " "We'll all think about it, madam, and, of course, we must keep our counsel to ourselves. That is impor tant. Nobody must look over our hands or get a glimpse of them. Your son, my young friend here, will advise me of anything to occur that may make it seem advisable for me to come again soon. I don't ex pect it, however. There will be nothing needed for some time yet, as I have agreed with Tolly to appeal the whole case to the Superior Court. I know you and your son will say that was right, as we shall want all the delay we can get. I will come again some time before the court meets, when he and I will prepare your answer and have an extended conference about the line of defense." " I shall follow your advice implicitly, Mr. Tor- ranee," said Mrs. Guthrie ; " I want to assure you of that at the outset." " Ah, my dear madam, I could see that as soon as we began to speak about the case. You are a lady that understands business, and therefore will readily judge. of our counsel. My opinion is that we can get terms, if not right away, after a time that will be reasonably liberal, and that it will be at least worth our while to consider. These men, like the common run of young lawyers, will want, and they'll need their fees, and they are not going to forget that if it is to depend on fighting in a case like this, your son and I know MR. TOEEANCE BECOMES LEADING COUNSEL. 257 what that means, and how long it can be made to 1; st, I don't know," he continued, smiling, " that Tolly meant for me to find it out, but I did, and I was glad i it. Indeed, I rather thought so from his client hav ing made application for guardianship ; but he is suing really in behalf of the children, not of his own. That, 1 ve no doubt, will make a difference in your feel ings." " Why, certainly, certainly." " I knew it ; and now I must take my leave, as I a v n to meet an appointment in Milledgeville to-morrow night, and it will be as much as I can do to'' make it. It was hardly necessary for me to come at this time, ex cept for your own satisfaction and for having the case appealed. I am delighted to find you so self-possessed and resolute. I was afraid you might be over-anxkus. Some time shortly I will return ; then we will confer about defense. The first thing we shall do will be to file a demurrer. You don't understand that term, I sup pose ; but your son will tell you that in law it signifies to delay. That is our hand for the present, and it may continue to be longer than these young chaps have been counting upon. Good-by, madam. I commend your pluck I hardly know how better to style it and I haven't a doubt that it will serve you to the end. Good-by, Mr. Guthrie. It strengthens me much that I have you for my colleague." " That's the sort of lawyer for me ! " said Mrs. Guthrie almost loud enough for his hearing. "When lie had passed through the gate, he turned, took off his hat, and waved a final adieu, which she answered with a low respectful courtesy. 17 .- 258 WIDOW GUTHRIE. " By blood ! " said lie to himself, as lie moved away. " Grandest woman I ever saw ; but crazy ! Crazy as a bed-bug ! " Half an hour afterward, having ordered his horse to be brought out, he made a parting visit to Tolly at his office. " Well, Tom, my son," he said, " I just stepped in to tell you good-by. I've just come from the presence of the very head citizen of this town, whom, I'm sim ply amazed that none of you people understand well enough to appreciate at her just worth. I want to say to you at parting, Thomas, my boy, that where was it the Ghost notified Brutus of his intention to meet him ? " " At Philippi, according to my remembrance. " I believe you are right. Well, sir, there expect me, and when you've suffered a more signal defeat than he got, don't make an ass of yourself, and go to falling upon your own sword. Hear, Tom ? " " Good-by, Mr. Torrance. You will find me there in force sufficient, I trust, to avoid the fate of that illustrious patriot." Tolly had hoped that he had come to propose a compromise. But such was not that lawyer's policy. It was, while supposed to be ignorant of all the bear ings in the case, to raise expectations which acquaint ance with them had led him to disappoint. As he was riding out of town, he turned his head toward the high grove wherein was his client's mansion, and thus soliloquized : " A woman fit to be a queen ! A good one, too ; worth forty of that Dunk ; I see now where some of BOND UNTBRTAKES ANOTHER CASE. 259 h is ways started from. He knows no more about her tl lan the rest of them. "Wonderful ! I had suspicion o f it that night at her party. I was expecting it to be a 1< >ng case ; but it won't. Get up, John ! We've got to make time to-day." CHAPTER XXVIII. BOND UNDERTAKES ANOTHER CASE. FOUR days afterward everybody except Tolly was surprised at the reappearance of Bond, accompanied by Julius Holt, a slight, bright-eyed, dressy young lawyer of Augusta. " Well, Tolly," said Bond, after shaking hands and introducing his companion, " here I am. Anything new in our case ? But you can tell me of that after ward. I brought my friend Holt along in order to show him that Augusta and Savannah were not the only places wherein nice people abode. But it is stipu lated between us that he is not to lay eyes on Miss Mac- farlane while in this town he stays." " How do you suppose Miss Macfarlane will regard such treatment ? " " Oh, if she complains, tell her that he was ex tremely busy (a thing not habitual), or that you hesi tated to take him to her except by her permission, which you had not time to ask, or that he was bashful and you couldn't get him to go, or that he was already engaged and was afraid to go near a young woman of whose perfections he had heard so many speeches, or 260 WIDOW GUTHRIE. frame any other reason that may occur to your mind so fertile in resources and expedients. " The safest thing for me to do, Mr. Holt, I suspect, is to take you to see the young lady and trust to your generosity." " Thank you, Mr. Tolly. From what Bond has told me about yourself, I should be the last to engage in any sort of contest with you, with hope of success." " There ! " said Bond. " Now everybody can feel easy. You may see this paragon, Holt, if we find that we have time and Tolly don't take back his words." After supper, Bond left the party and went to see Miss Jewell. "Why, you back here, and so soon?" she said. " Yours and Mr. Tolly's case must be pressing." " Yes ; but you must remember that I have one of my own that is much more so." "Which I have told you several times that you must give up." Yet she could not conceal the pleasure she felt at his coming. She was dressed with unusual care, and the color returning to her cheek showed that the frame of her mind was beginning to be happy again. " Yes," he said with seriousness, " and you know well that that is what I can not do. After what you admitted to me, I can not comprehend that you should be willing that I should. To me, it seems simple injus tice to put upon a man who loves you with all his heart punishment only punishment when you admit that your preference would be to reward." " Punishment ! punishment, Mr. Bond ? Why I love you also. I love you very much. I love ^ou more BOND UNDERTAKES ANOTHER CASE. 261 and more. No, no, keep your seat, or I will leave you." The deep bluen that overspread her face soon sub sided. " Since I have found that my feelings are more en listed than I had known of, I have felt that I ought to go back to Boston. After the term of Cousin Will iam's school ends, my intention is to go to Augusta for a week's sojourn with sister. While I am there, under certain conditions, I will tell you frankly and fully why I can hot marry you. At least," she added, with a yet deeper blush, " why I think so. Please do not ask me for anything more now." " I will not ; but you will at least let me take your hand?" She looked at him. His face was as full of respect as affection. She gave no answer; then he rose, ad vanced, took her hand, and, as she turned her face away, kissed her cheek. " Perhaps I ought not to have allowed that, Mr. Bond ; but the thought of leaving you ' then she covered her face with her hands. To help her em barrassment, he said quickly as if he had forgotten to tell her sooner : " Oh ! I forgot to tell you something. Holt is with me, Julius Holt." " Julius Holt ! Why what could have brought him here ? Why didn't he come with you to see me ? " " Well, now, to tell the truth, Miss Jewell, I didn't care about his company, this evening." " It would have been better for both our sakes if you had brought him. What is he here for? Have 262 WIDOW GUTHEIE. you and Mr. Tolly taken him into your case ? I didn't know he was so much of a lawyer as that." " No. When he heard that I was coming, he said that he had a little business here, and besides that he would like to take something of a jaunt, and so he came along. He'll be sure to call before he leaves." " Tell him he must. I like Julius Holt, though I didn't suppose that he had much law business, even in Augusta. When are you going back ? " " In a day or two ; just as soon as I can get away." He returned to the tavern in triumph. " I feel like a new man, my good boys." After re ceiving their congratulations, he continued : "Let's fire up, and, although as they say in the cracker region, it's mighty sildom I teches it, yet on the strength of the occasion, I'll take a drink if I can git it. Bring out what you've got in that hair trunk of yours, Holt. I knew you well enough to feel sure you would bring some of the article along, and so I didn't. But pledge me the cup, since existence would cloy, With hearts ever happy, and heads ever wise ; Be ours the light grief that is sister to joy, And the short brilliant folly that sparkles and dies ! But we shall be moderate. What saith the jolly yet temperate -bard of Yenusium : Tribus aut novem Miscentur cyathis pocula commodis Tres prohibet supra Rixarum metuens tangere Gratia, Nudis juncta sororibus. Did you hear me, Holt ? " " Bond, I did ; but never since I was born I'll swear I never did hear whisky called by BO many BOND UNDERTAKES ANOTHER CASE. 263 names. He does want it badly ; don't he, Mr. Tol- ljl. " He wants something, evidently, Mr. Holt. I didn't exactly follow him throughout the words of his request." " No, Tolly ? " asked the principal speaker. " Then I'll inflict upon both of you the rest of that glorious Ode to Telephus : " Insanire juvat, which means it is delightful to play the fool : so hear, ye ignoramuses, or as, with proper respect for the analogies of language, I should say, igno- rami. " Insanire juvat " " Stop it ! " cried Holt. " Just look at him, throwing about his arms as if he understood what he was trying to repeat! I'll bet five dollars that's all he knows of Horace ! " "And in the event of your losing who is to pay your bill at this tavern, Mr. Holt? But, Tolly," he continued as he poured from the bottle, " let's come down to contemporary times ; you haven't told me any thing yet about our law case, except that Torrance has been here. "What did the old fellow do, and what did he say ? " " He came here, I think, for the purpose mainly of getting us to consent to an appeal, what, as you know, we wanted. Still, he managed to make me propose it. I found that I had to do it, and I did. What a won derful man ! " " That he is ! We have not a lawyer in our circuit to compare with him. I saw him in a case at the last term of Washington Court, and it almost demoralized my 204: WIDOW GUTHRIE. hopes of making myself what I aspire to be when I noticed his consummate power and art. Yet I have no fears of him in this case. Indeed, I thought onco that I saw a chance during that trial when, if I had been on the other side, I could have given him a stab under the fifth rib. Still, I dare say he might have parried it, as Barrington, who was against him, said he would have done." " How did the case go ? " " They stopped it before it got to the jury. Some how, somebody had mislaid some paper, which couldn't be found, and Torrance, what he had asked for at the call, claimed and got a continuance. I heard that they compromised afterward, as the adversary declared that he couldn't afford to wait forever for the whole of his money." " He talked about a compromise on the night he got here, but after he saw Mrs. Guthrie, he said nothing at all tending that way, but looked intensely confident, and was quite boastful.'' " He had his reasons for both, we may be sure." When Holt had retired to his room, Bond remained. " Tolly," he said, " I thought a good deal whether or not I should call upon you to help me in this busi ness, and I decided that I ought not. In the first place, I suspected that you are opposed conscientiously to such manner of adjustment. Then, you reside in the town, in which I am almost an entire stranger, and are on terms of friendship with this man's family and family connections. They, or the most of them in such a seri ous issue must, at least, appear to side with him." " If you had called upon me, Bond, I might have BO OND UNDERTAKES ANOTHER CASE. 265 agreed to stand with you, especially with intent to try to adjust the matter without resort to a hostile meeting, though, of course, much as I would have regretted, I should have had to go with you to whatever end might result from failure of discussion, and I beg of you again to consider calmly whether or not you may let it re adjust itself as it has almost done already. Does Miss Jewell suspect anything ? " " No, indeed. That is why I went without Holt to night. I told her Holt had come up on a little business and would call to see her before he went away. He can mislead her easily. If she knew what we had come for, she would do whatever she could to prevent it. That is what is making her keep her secret. She said to-night that while she lingered in Augusta on her way North she'd tell it to me upon conditions. I knew what they would be, and that is the reason that I have been in such haste. But, Tolly, the idea of waiting for the mere lapse of time to set up a good woman's name from it's fall, or even it's decline, by the tongue of such a man as Duncan Guthrie ! If she and I both continue to live Miss Jewell is to become my wife. I could never hold up my head in that man's presence afterward, knowing that he remembered how she, unmarried, without a male protector, had been made to suffer first from his ruffian insult, and afterward more keenly, if possible, from his slandering tongue or his slandering silence. The law and religious people, as they ought, discourage duel ing. I myself am a man of more profound religious feeling than I appear to be. I admit that endurance is a higher virtue than even the justest resentment, measured by the standard of religion, if indeed any degree of re- 266 WIDOW GUTHRIE. sentment may be called just. But such virtue pertains to saints, of whom I am not and I never could hope to be one, and I could not be made to believe that Tie could be made contributory to the sanctification of anybody. The difficulty is that the satisfaction proposed by the law and religious people is sometimes inadequate or im practicable. The latter say suffer, endure, forgive, and be thankful ; the other commends to mulct by a suit be fore the courts in pecuniary damages. These point to what to a million of endeavors is unattainable ; the other offers what in sensitive minds exacerbates instead of mitigating injuries. Miss Jewell, a young woman, a stranger in a strange land, without means, indeed, ex cept the little wage that she earns by laborious employ ment of her gifts, seeking to recover from Duncan Guthrie compensation for wounds to her honor and her happiness in mere money! The dear girl Jias been saved from utter prostration by the consciousness of her innocence, and the support of that brave girl, Miss Macfarlane. My God ! It nearly made me cry to night when I saw upon her face the humble thankful ness that was in her heart! No, Mr. Tolly! That man, however costly it may be to himself, must put matters where they were on the first day when she came into this town of Clarke and began her work with all people's fair opinions and friendly encouragement. If he refuses so to do, I shall try to find and let this public know the reason why. Good-night, dear friend." Without another word from either he went out. THE CORRESPONDENCE OF BOND AND GUTHRIE. 267 CHAPTER XXIX. THE CORRESPONDENCE OF BOND AND GUTHRIE. ABOUT nine o'clock on the following morning as Bond and Holt were sitting on the piazza looking out upon the court-house square, Guthrie, having come down the street from his mother's residence, turned and proceeded to his office. Thither Holt at once repaired. "Why, Mr. Holt! This is a surprise. I hardly recognized you at first, so far out of your beat ; I am really glad to see you. When did you come ? Are you just from Augusta ? " " Thank you, Mr. Guthrie, I came in last night with Mr. Bond." "Yes!" said Guthrie, his cordiality subsiding in stantly. " I have called in order to hand you this note. I will be at the tavern where I shall be pleased to receive and convey to Mr. Bond your answer." A subdued smile came upon Guthrie's face as he read the note which ran as follows : " CLARKE, June 26, 1828. " To Duncan Guthrie, Esq. " SIR : On Saturday, the 2nd of last month, you ad dressed to Miss Sarah Jewell language grossly insulting. This is meant to indicate to you the duty of making in writing distinct recognition of the truth of this com plaint, and as distinct admission that nothing in her de portment then or theretofore had authorized you to ex pect any result other than impunity, because of the re- 268 WIDOW GUTHRIE. moteness of her family and the absence of any friend to protect her from the outrage or chastise its infliction. " This will be handed you by my friend Julius Holt, Esq. Yours, etc., " CHRISTOPHER BOND." When he had read the note he threw it upon the table as if it was not of much importance, and said : " The circumstances give me plenty of time to answer, Mr. Holt ; but as I can see no reason for delay, I will do so as soon as I can communicate with a friend who resides just beyond the Savannah River. I will send a message to him forthwith, and I shall hope that he will get here by to-morrow night. If he does, or as soon as he does, I will communicate with Mr. Bond further." " That will be entirely satisfactory, Mr. Guthrie. We shall await at the tavern the answer that, after advising / o with your friend, it may please you to make." " And now, have you time to tell me any news from your fair city ? " " There is nothing to tell, Mr. Guthrie, even if both of us had leisure. I think I must now return to Mr. Bond ." " Then I won't endeavor to detain you longer, Mr. Holt. Good-day." Holt returned to the tavern, and, having entered the room where Bond sat reading a law book, said : " Such coolness is commendable, Bond. I hope I shall not disturb it by repeating that I am confident of our not being able to force your man to a challenge." " Be it so ; I only wanted, if I could, to get him away from pistols, at which I've been told that he is quite expert. I'm not much in that way; but if I could have a rifle, I think I would make the gentleman THE CORRESPONDENCE OF BOND AND GUTHRIE. 269 li;np for the balance of his life; for I should only aim ai his legs. He will be so exasperated that I suppose h 3 will be for doing his work effectually. Still, what I can do at all with a pistol I can do quickly, if not with accuracy to boast of, and I'll try to if I can't at least g'.ve him a lame leg before he fires." That night Holt accompanied Bond to the Wen- dolls ; Miss Jewell came down looking almost as radiant as ever in color and cheer. "Well, Mr. Holt, I never expected to see you here ! What could have brought you so far away from Augusta, your beloved ? It must have been some ex ceedingly important law business. I didn't know before that you practiced in the counties." " Most persons, Miss Jewell, pretend not to know that I practice even in Augusta. Yet I must do myself the justice to say that now and then I receive for col lection a promissory note on which the holder knows that the maker must confess judgment. My practice outside, except in cases of importance, has not been ex tensive. Hearing that our common friend Bond you will mark the use. of the word ' common ' instead of 1 mutual' yes, Miss Jewell, to go back behind that ex planatory clause, hearing that Bond, common as he is and mutual, after one visit to this town, avowedly to attend court, but, as is well known, for another pur pose, had got into a fat case, when he told me that he was coming to look after it, I fished up a little busi ness myself, and I said to him : ' Bond,' said I, as dis tinctly and fairly as it is in me to speak, I said, ' Bond, if you think I won't be too much of a burden, a bore, or a hindrance, I will go with you.' He said nothing, 270 WIDOW GUTHRIE. and I acted upon his silence. You don't know it, Miss Jewell, and with all my adjurations, prayers, and tears I could never get you to know it, and you never did know it, and perhaps you will never care about knowing it, but I was always as devoted to you as Bond, every bit and grain. Now ! " " I see, Mr. Bond," she said, " that he's the same de ceiver." " Yes, Miss Jewell, I am forced to admit. Holt is a young man who, but for some mistakes, perhaps, in his early education, I rather think would mean well. In his speeches to ladies, like that he has just now made to you, I have sometimes believed that I noticed that, for the time being, he felt some inspiration of eloquence, and, indeed, so far as you are concerned, I have often heard him speak in terms of high, unmixed praise." " My ! praise, honest praise from such a source is something to be proud of ! " " Not at all, my dear Miss Jewell, not at all," Holt said. " Miss Jewell, you see that man there before you, so cool, so calm, so self-possessed in the midst of suc cesses that he knows he never merited as I would have done had Fortune vouchsafed for one time to change the rags with which she has always shown herself to me, so fortified in his sense of superiority to all man kind, not excepting and particularly and offensively not excepting me ? Well, madam, if you will pardon the address which the solemnity of the occasion seems to me to warrant and anticipate, I assure you that I have often argued with that man and tried my level best to convince him that you were the finest woman that he and I ever saw or that we might ever hope to THE CORRESPONDENCE OF BOND AND GUTHRIE. 271 !-ee again. In time, as if to make another instance of the ingratitude of individuals as well as of republics, lie turned upon me, appropriated all my arguments, and you now behold the ruined, desperate person he has i uade of me, madam ! " "With such badinage he occupied most of the time during this visit. Before taking their leave they ) (leaded that stress of business would prevent their Making another call, and that, if they could not get away during the morrow, they must do so early on the following morning. After Holt had left Guthrie, the latter immediately went home, and, writing a note, dispatched it by Marcus to his friend Charles Leslie, who resided in South Caro lina. A man of courage, even pugnacious, he felt a sense of relief at the prospect of settling thus with an equal adversary a matter that had disturbed him con siderably. Before nightfall on the next day his friend arrived, and, after a brief conference, a note was sent to Bond running thus : " CLARKE, June 21, 1828. " To Christopher JSond, Esq. : " SIR : The real or pretended ignorance manifested in your note of yesterday of the courtesy usual among gen tlemen shall not obtain for you any imagined advantage that you seek. I decline to hold with you further dis cussion upon the matter of your complaint. "This will be handed you by my friend Charles Leslie, Esq. Yours, etc., " DUNCAN GUTHRIE." Early the next morning Bond sent a peremptory challenge, which was promptly accepted, and a meeting 272 WIDOW GUTHEIE. was agreed upon to take place on the morning of the fourth day afterward on the Carolina side of the Savan nah, near a place known as Sister's Ferry. To avert suspicion from the public, the principals with their sec onds left the village, Bond and Holt at once, Guthrie and his friend next morning. Guthrie late that after noon repaired to his own home, where he spent an hour as before. Opening the piano, he struck softly some of the keys, and seemed as if he were listening to sounds from afar. Letting down the lid, he took into his hands, one by one, the vases that stood upon the center- table of the parlor and the bureau in their bedroom. Taking from his pocket his wife's handkerchief that he yet carried, he moistened it from one of the phials. He walked through the flower garden several times, lingering before shrubs that he knew to be her favor ites. He felt that he loved her more and that she was more needful to him than he had ever supposed. Ho heartily wished that she could see him as he was and know his thoughts of her, and he hoped that if ho should survive the dangerous combat in which he was about to engage she might be as happy in the posses sion of his single love and confidence as he knew sho always had yearned and deserved to be. His mother had been put by Mr. Torrance into a frame so comparatively comfortable that she was littlo disturbed by his announcement that he must go to Au gusta ; besides, always averse to having her own affairs known to others, she did not inquire as to the business on which he was going. During the evening they con versed upon indifferent themes. "When near bedtime she said : THE CORRESPONDENCE OF BOND AND GUTHRIE. 273 " You look serious, Duncan, and have been almost ever since Alice has been away. I don't see why you can't be contented and cheerful for a while with me like you used to be." " Why, mother, I am not thinking' of Alice every lime you see me looking thoughtful. I do miss her, of course, but my thoughts are mainly of other things." " Well, my son, the only way I know in order to get along with things that trouble ?ne is to try to give up to what I can't help and couldn't have prevented, mid to fight and keep on fighting against the rest. I've lived a fighting life, and had to do it to keep myself from being put under people's feet. What you see me now and what I've got around me have all come from fighting If you once begin to give way to bad feel ings they'll grow and grow until they'll actually become a disease, and people will see it and it will make them run over you." "Mother," he answered, but not with apparent petulance, " when have I ever suffered people to run over me, as you style it ? I think I've been able, in what few conflicts I've had with the world thus far, to take care of myself, and I trust to so continue." " Why, my dear child, I didn't mean to make any insinuations against your bravery. I've never been afraid that anybody that has my blood in his veins could ever be lacking in that. I only meant to convey my idea that resistance is the surest defense to put against trouble that is, those that are brought by other people. But resistance can become as calm as it is reso lute. I learned that for the first time in the talk I had with Seaborn Torrance. What a man he is! I've I 274 WIDOW GUTHRIE. been feeling of another sort ever since he was here. Well, child, as you've got a journey before you to-mor row, may be you had better go to bed. I shall not sit up much longer." He was willing to be thus excused. As was her wont sometimes when there was moonlight, she took a walk under the trees. When she had re-entered the house and her maid was making her ready for bed, she said : " Judy, do you think your Marse Duncan cares as much for me as he did before he was married 1 " " Oh, yes'm, mistess. Marse Duncan love you same as befo'. Course he love Miss Alice too, bein' she his wife. He bound do dat, Marse Duncan is ; but he am' forgot his ma, nor he ain' guine to forgit her, nother." " Don't you tell anybody I asked you that question, hear ? If you do, it won't be good for you." " Law, miss ! I never opens my mouf 'bout what you says to me dat way. Ev'ybody on dis place know dat about me." " I don't, for one ; but you be careful. I tell you that for your own good." CHAPTEE XXX. SISTER'S FERRY. WE have heard it said that there is greater courage in declining than in accepting a challenge to fight a duel. This is one of those sayings which, out of respect f<>r religious sentiment, goes without contradiction. At best, however, that seems to be a negative courage SISTER'S FERRY. 275 which declines to give special satisfaction in cases where in any other sort seems inadequate, except that (ulti mately the very highest, of course) which comes from tumble, even thankful submission to injustice. The L;IW provides pecuniary compensation for defamation .md kindred wrongs ; but, as was argued by Bond, the more cultured and sensitive an innocent person is, the more revolting is the idea of such compensation, and the suffering would only be intensified by public judi cial investigation. Then, to kill a man whose injury to another has been most atrocious, without giving him notice to defend himself, the law calls murder, although juries, who in the trial of such cases are made judges of the law as well -as of facts, generally, if not always, acquit. Yet no really brave man, except when im pelled by sudden uncontrollable passion, will shoot or stab deliberately, whatever be the injury received. Therefore, it may happen that one who suffers most pain from injury will feel that he most sorely needs satis faction, and not of that highest sort with which there can be no doubt that he ought to strive to be content. It seems a doubtful courage, however, that refuses to give satisfaction which endangers life when it is the only one that the injured cares to accept for a wrong done that he feels to be worthy of death. These words are not meant as an argument in favor of dueling, which is justly named barbaric and is plainly forbidden under the divine law, but merely as remarks on what is said so often about that higher courage which consists in keeping away, after wrong done, from the muzzle of a pistol or the point of a rapier. I am considering the mere question of courage a .courage that in the times 276 WIDOW GUTHRIE. in which the things in this story took place, in the absence of more condign penalties imposed by the laws, municipal and social, kept shut the mouth of many a defamer and many a defamer's wife, and let the inno cent live in peace and security. To those submissive under persecution our Lord promised extraordinary be atitude. Happy, happiest of all are they who, having opportunities thereto, become entitled to receive it; but we may depend upon it there are not many occa sions wherein clearer instances of physical courage are manifested than upon a field where each expects either his adversary or himself to fall. Both parties succeeded in avoiding suspicion. A case of critical sickness hindered Dr. Poythress from accompanying the party, and Guthrie was content with the attendance of an Augusta physician, Dr. Holly ; Dr. Anton attended Bond. The parties spent the night previous at farmers' houses not far from the ferry. The combatants, covered with loose flowing gowns ex tending to their feet, bowed respectfully to each other, while the rest exchanged greetings all around. Ten paces were measured; Guthrie's second won the word. At its call, Bond fired, instantly followed by his adver sary. Both stood entirely still, something of a flush coming over Guthrie's cheek. " Aren't you struck, Guthrie ? " asked Leslie, in a low voice, as he went to receive his pistol. " Hush ! I felt my pants tear a little. I miscalcu lated where he stood under his gown, and aimed too far front. I'll avoid that the next shot." " You look sound, Bond," whispered Holt, " but I see he made a hole in your, gown." " Stop ! " cried Dr. Anton, " Mr. Bond has been wounded." SISTER'S FERRY. 277 "Quick ! reload quick, Holt I " But when the pistol was handed to him again and he reached forth to take it, his hand trembled. " Stop ! " cried Dr. Anton, advancing hurriedly, " Mr. Bond has been wounded." Bond grew pale and would have fallen. Being laid upon the ground, his gown and waistcoat were opened, when it was ascertained that one of his ribs had been broken. The bullet had glanced, and, after perforating the fleshy part of the breast, passed on. He was bleeding freely ; but after the fainting spell was over, smiling, he said : " I suppose I'll have to let Mr. Guthrie go this time, but I'm not quite through with him." All except Guthrie expressed gratification that the wound was not more serious. He had aimed to kill, and he did not try to hide his disappointment. "With his second he re-entered his carriage and drove away. When well off the ground, he said : " The fellow drew a little blood from me." I" What ! " " Oh, a spoonful. I wouldn't have known it but for the warmth." Unbuttoning his trousers, his under garments were found to be stained considerably. " I didn't dream that he was so quick on the trig ger; his bullet stung like fire as it grazed my thigh, and the smart may have made mine vary an inch or so from where I aimed." " You ought to be scolded well, Guthrie, for not let ting me know this ; I could have got a liniment from Holly. Let me see what it is. Not much, but I should have known it sooner." 278 WIDOW GUTHRIE. " I didn't want Bond to know that he had drawn a drop of my blood. We can get a piece of cloth at the next house, and at the first stream we get to, I'll change my clothes and let you bandage it, if you think it's worth while." " It's evident, I think, Guthrie, that Bond didn't aim to kill you; for I've been told that he's a fine shot." " Possibly, he didn't ; but I thank him not. I'd rather be killed than lamed." It was thought best for Bond to lie at the farmer's house for a day, after which, Mr. Dunbar came and had him removed to his own. Such, news always is borne rapidly, and at first is almost always inaccurate. A. report reached Clarke just before noon the next day that Bond had been mortally wounded. The arrival of Guthrie and Leslie not long afterward corrected it. The effect of the sudden announcement and its quick denial affected Miss Jewell, as was to be expected. As soon as she recovered from the shock she sent a servant to Tolly with a note, begging him to come to her at once. He was already on his way there. " O Mr. Tolly, is it true I think I can see in your face that it is that Mr. Bond is not fatally hurt ? " " Not fatally, Miss Jewell, nor very dangerously, I am delighted to say. Mr. Leslie, who was Mr. Guthrie's friend, is at the tavern, and says that one of Bond's ribs i/ was shattered, but that good medical attention and good nursing will set him up in a little while." " Thank God ! Blessed be his holy name ! O Mr. Tolly ! I didn't dream that that was what Mr. Bond SISTER'S PERRY. 279 came here for the last time, bringing Julius Holt with him, and I didn't suspect that he knew of any reason why he should fight with Mr. Guthrie ; but I've now no doubt that Mr. Dunbar informed him of what I had re quested sister to keep secret. If I had foreseen any such thing, I would have run away from this town, and never stopped till I got to Boston. I don't see how Mr. Bond can ever look me in the face again, after after" " After having vindicated your good name against the insult and aspersion of a bad man. That is the proper ending to your sentence, Miss Jewell." Looking at him thankfully, she laid one hand upon his lips, and said : " There, kiss, if you don't object." " Oh, me ! " he said, when the hand was withdrawn, ** with such pay, a kiss on the hand for a rib, but for my need of Bond's help, I'd wish that five had been broken instead of one." " That speech was a right good one, too," she re plied, becoming momentarily hilarious, in the revulsion of her feelings. " If you had been talking all this time to Charlotte on that key but you are all right there, I think, Cousin Tom. Now, do you want to know for I what specially I sent for you ? " " No, because I know already." " But you don't. It was to say that somebody has got to take me to Augusta right away." " That, my dear cousin, my mind had forecast. Junkin has my orders to have ready at my call a car riage, horses, and driver for a three-days' journey." " Tom Tolly ! " her outpouring joy giving full ex- 280 WIDOW GUTHEIE. pression to her wonderful beauty. " You are a blessed cousin, the best that any poor girl ever had, even by blood ! !N"ow, let me tell you. I want that carriage and those horses and that driver, and, last in mention but first in importance, this cousin to be at that gate yonder there not outside of two hours from this time, and as much within as may consist with my said cousin's arrangings for a temporary absence from his important engrossments." " I am to understand, I suppose, by this haste that your purpose is to assist the surgical treatment of Mr. Bond by the substitution of another and an invulner able rib." With a playful push she expedited his departure, and about the tune set they were on their journey, which was to require a day and a half. Miss Jewell was delighted to find how well her escort, by varied, cheerful, often bantering chat, could beguile her anxi ety. When it was near sunset and they were approach ing Wrightsborough, a village in the adjoining county, he said : " My fair cousin, if it were not for prudential sug gestions, wholly concerning yourself, I would get a relay of beasts if they can be had in the village lying so still and unexpectant of us two on yonder rising ground, and rush forward amid the darkness to the place where our knight lies temporarily exhausted by the strife of battle. But I am thinking that one of us, not at all alluding to myself, may grow fatigued after some longer duration of travel, and as the most interesting phase of the case must be delayed till you get there, and it is de sirable for you, when there arrived, to be as fresh as SISTER'S FERRY. 281 possible, in view of the important scientific operations intended for his relief, I rather think that we should rake what rest may be got in the unpretentious hostlery, < >f which I have had from several travelers a reasonably i^ood account ; but, as it is yours to speak and com mand, and mine to listen and obey, if you say go, why we we just go on, that's all." " My brave, generous defender and guide, words could be only fain to express my gratitude for your ] eadiness to undertake the impossible. For both sakes we will tarry the night at this inn. I must have regard not alone for your gallant unselfishness, but for your somnolence, whose advance is already beginning to ap pear." They halted at the tavern, where cleanness, good cooking, obligingness, and small charge more than made amends for lack of fineness and variety. Almost immediately after supper, Miss Jewell asked to be shown to her chamber. Her escort must have his cigar. As he sat in a split-bottom chair on the unpaved side walk, several of the villagers, some with cigars, most with pipes, strolled to the tavern door, and as the chat between the landlord and guests warmed, moved, but not disrespectfully, nearer. " Driver tell me you from Clarke, sir." " Yes." " And you're the lady's cousin, so she told my wife, and I don't remember as I ever went anywheres to find a handsomer, fine-lookiner, nice-behaveder young woman ; she say you takin' her to Agusty to see her sister." " Yes. This is a good cigar, and after a good sup- 282 WIDOW GUTHRIE. per, I believe I'll try a couple of them cigars, I mean, and then, landlord, if my room is ready, I'll go to bed." " Certainly, sir, whenever you say so. Glad you like. Fact of the business," he continued, with com passionate backward glance to previous administrations, " they was complainin's a'most a constant all the time about the way this tavern was kept, and it come to that, I told my wife I got her over thar in your county I told her that me and her, to my opinion, we owed it, not only to the bo'ders, but to the transient people, to take holt of things on these premerses, and show the civilized world that "Wrightsborough, when you come to know her, they was stuff in her for a re spectable tavern, if nothin' else. My wife, she see the sitooation, and she j'ined in with me, and she rolled up her sleeves, and the consequence is as people sees. But, Mr. Tolly the lady said that were your name " " Yes, sir ; yes, sir, and my father's before me." " That's what people might suppose onlest thero was somethin' wrong somewhere." Tolly laughed heartily at this merited rebuke for the remark caused by his needless wish, for Miss Jewell's sake, to avoid the man's questionings. The latter saw the advantage he had gained, and said : " I thought I'd ask you before you went, if it ain't a onfa'r question, if you heerd of the juel that was fit day fo' yisterday mornin' about a female person betwix' two lawyers. I been thinking you must have heerd about it, as one of 'em, lawyer Guthrie, was from Clarke." " Yes, I had heard of it. Have you any recent news as to how the other party is getting on ? " SISTER'S FERRY. 283 " Oh, they say he's a-gittin' on lively, but the first rews come that he was slew. Everybody here was lad when that was contradicted. They are all on his fcide, every one of 'em, women worse than men, because tiie tale is that he was a-fightin' for a poor young eehoolmistess that didn' have nobody else to take up for her, bein' so fur away from her people. Yes, sir, that's the sentiment o' these people in this here town, dd and young, male and female, special female. They say they don't see how him come to be hit and the t'other skipped." At that moment a gentleman, while passing, paused, looked through the dusk a moment, then, seizing the guest's hand, cried : " Why, Tolly, you here ? Bless me, but you're about the last man I expected to see." It was Charles Hawley, a young lawyer, who had come from the county-seat for a visit to his parents, who dwelt in this village. These had for an hour or more a conversation about the duel and other things, the landlord and some of the villagers taking part. The next morning, when Miss Jewell had risen from breakfast, the landlady, who had put on some of her best things, rose and, approaching her with a small bundle of roses, said : " Lady, me and mine don't set up for much ; but I want you to take these roses and give 'em to the young man you're going to " I thank you, madam," and she turned a reproach ful glance of inquiry at Tolly. He hurried away. When she came forth to enter the carriage a scene was there which she never was to forget. A dozen or so 284: WIDOW GUTHRIE. girls, from fifteen down to six, clad in their very best, simple, clean, bashful, stepped forward, beginning with the oldest, and, without words, presented her, every one, with flowers. " What does it mean ? " she asked, looking at Tolly with amazement. " Lady, my most fair and most gracious relative," answered Tolly with high courtesy, " it means that these young ladies, having heard that two warriors have lately clashed arms on account of your ladyship, wished thus to signalize that they were unanimously on the side of him who fought and suffered in your cause ; and having heard, further, that if not actually on your way to him, at least you might be in his presence before these sweet but frail memorials shall have withered, they modestly but earnestly desire that you will present them to him in testimony of their exalted admiration and their profound gratitude for his gallantry in your behalf. This manifestation, I beg to assure you, though deemed by myself eminently becoming, was, until a few moments ago, as unexpected to me as to yourself." Her hand had already lifted her gown, preparing to step into the carriage. She let it go and said : " Well, Mr. Tolly, you may hide your emotion be neath those courtly words, but my tears must flow, be cause because my heart has never been so full ! " She stood and, putting her handkerchief to her eyes, wept freely for several moments. Then she called to her the children, one by one , and embraced and kissed them. When the last came, bare-headed and without shoes, lifting her in her arms, she took from her bosom a pretty phial of essence, and said: SISTER'S FERRY. 285 " Take this, darling. It is sweet and precious, but i;.ot nearly as much so as you and your dear companions. I can never forget you. Now one more kiss from t very one, and may the blessing of God be and abide with you always ! " Then, entering the carriage, fol lowed by Tolly, they continued their journey. Near by was standing a tall, red-haired, loosely-con structed boy, having an uncertain grasp upon the stem (>f a huge sunflower. He stared at Miss Jewell during the whole scene and at the carriage while it was rolling away. " Why didn't you give the lady your sunflower, Andy ? " asked one of the gentlemen. " "Well, now, Mr. Avery, you see, I forgot it tell it was too late. When she hilt up her frock to git in the carriage my eye got stuck on her foot, and it look so temptin', and then that lawyer clinched the nail on me with his speeches so I never understood nare word he said ; and time I could git my idees back, she were in her carriage and gone. Is that the way they pleads in court, them lawyers, Mr. Avery ? " "Something like that, Andy, when they've got nothing to say. You see he was speaking for the girls, and he had to put up his best." " Well, he done it." When the travelers were out of town, Miss Jewell, drying her eyes, looked at her companion, and said : " O Mr. Tolly, Mr. Tolly ! Such an ovation no prin cess ever had! No Roman consul triumphing with chariot and white horses ever felt happier than I did at the manifestations of those children ! ' Happy,' as the Psalmist says, ' is that people that is in such a case ; 286 WIDOW GUTHRIE. yea, happy is that people ! ' ' Then, almost shouting with laughter, she said : " And oh, that speech ! My dear cousin, your greatness, your varied greatness, grows upon me every day and every hour ! " She was indeed very, very happy. They reached the Sand Hills by night-fall. Learn ing that Bond was in the house, without taking off her bonnet she went up-stairs and knocked gently at his door. " Come in," he answered from within. She en tered and stood looking upon his face as he lay upon a couch. " Why, Sarah Jewell ! That you ? " She went to his side, and kneeling, said : "Yes; it is I." CHAPTER XXXI. THE KETUKN OF GUTHRIE. THE cry uttered by Miss Jewell at the first report from Sister's Ferry served to make it known to Mrs. Guthrie. She was walking beneath the trees in her front yard in meditative mood, when, startled, she called to her maid : "Judy, did you hear that noise over at Mr. "Wen dell's?" " Yes'm, mistess. Sound to me like somebody hurted over dare." At that moment Mr. "Wendell came out through his gate and commenced walking rapidly toward tlio THE RETURN OF GUTHRIE. 287 heart of the village. Mrs. Guthrie said to her serv- a.it : " You go around to the kitchen and find out what's 1'ie matter. Don't you dare to tell anybody that I sent you. You're friendly with those negroes over there, aren't you?" " Oh, yes'm. I friendly with 'em, dee ain' got noth- in' gin me, dem folks ain'." " I thought so ; all niggers are friendly with one an other when it comes to finding out all about white folks' business ; but you better not even hint about me want ing to bother myself with anything that concerns them. Go along, and be quick about it, and don't you stop to go to palavering with those people ; but find out what's the trouble and come back straight to me." Judy walked rapidly to the gate, and as rapidly along the street leading out of town until she had passed be yond view from the Wendell mansion. Then crossing, she climbed the fence, and shied along that of the yard. Keturning in a few minutes her mistress said : " You've been gone twice as long as there was any need for, seems to me. I could have done it myself in less time. What's to do over there ? " " O miss, bad news ; man come dar en tole Miss Wendell dat Marse Duncan have fit a jule wid dat young man what been payin' 'tention to Miss Jule en A gusty, en kilt him." 1 "Who killed who?" " Marse Duncan kilt dat ter man." " The Lord help my soul ! Did the man say that four Marse Duncan got hurt ? " " ~No, ma'am, de word wus Marse Duncan kilt dat 288 WIDOW GUTHRIE. ter man, en den got in his cayidge en come away from dar. It wer' Miss Jule dat done de hollerin', for 'cause dee said de man en her was promussed to git married, en now she dis'p'inted in her inin' bout it. I sorry for her, dat I is, but I thankful 'twarn't Marse Dun can." " Did you see Miss Jewell, or hear her ? " " No'm. Dee say she hollered des one lone time, en den she run up-sta'rs, en Miss "Wend'le en Miss An na dee went long atter her en de swaged her down. Seem to me I mout a heerd some kind oV moanin' up- sta'rs dar, but I didn't have no time, 'cause I run to tell you Marse Duncan safe." "Oh, my Lord!" Several times she uttered these words as she walked toward the house. " Judy," she said, suddenly turning to her, " put on a better frock, quick as you can, and go down town, and see what you can gather up. Ask Mr. Junkin, the tavern-keeper. He'll be as apt to know as much about it as anybody else. Get along with you, and don't be so poke easy." In a space that to any one else than her mistress would have seemed marvelously brief Judy reappeared in satisfactory condition, and she was about to start with other orders, when her mistress said : " Stop. Isn't that your Marse Duncan's carriage I see rising the hill ? " " Yes'm," answered the girl, casting a quick glance down the street, " dat's Marse Duncan's cayidge, sho' ; en de way Markis playin' wid his whip, I jes know he fetchin' good news ! " THE RETURN OF GUTHRIE. 289 "With open arms she met her son at the gate, and was greatly relieved for the sake of both to hear that he ha