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<l not killed his adversary. 
 
 " It would have been always on your mind, Duncan, 
 an! mine, too. And then somehow it went to my heart 
 w] ien I heard that young woman scream when the re- 
 port first got to Mr. Wendell's half an hour ago, 
 although I didn't know what was the matter till Judy 
 ran over there and found out. God knows I'm thank 
 ful you didn't kill the man! The poor girl is so far 
 away from her home, you know. Come in and sit 
 down. Have anything in particular ? You know 
 there's plenty of wine and spirits in the house, and I'll 
 order dinner at once, if you want it." 
 
 After dinner she said : 
 
 " Duncan, you never did anything to Miss Jewell, I 
 hope, to have to fight a duel about her. I never 
 dreamed that it was as serious as all that. What was 
 the matter ? My Lord, the fusses and fights that can 
 be raised among men about women ! " 
 
 " Mother, you know how some people have been 
 hinting about the woman ever since that affair in the 
 woods behind there the first of May. I've said nothing 
 about what occurred there to anybody except Alice. 
 We both concluded to drop her. I suppose she felt 
 insulted, and told Bond, and he sent me a challenge. 
 I know you wouldn't have wished me to decline 
 that." 
 
 " No ; of course not ; unless it could have been set 
 tled honorably without going out and shooting at each 
 other. I don't understand it at all. Did you say any 
 thing to insult her that day ? " 
 19 

 
 290 WIDOW GUTHRIE. 
 
 " I'd rather not talk about tliat, mother. I didn't 
 say anything beyond what I felt authorized to say. 
 She seemed to think I did. A man can't always under 
 stand such women." 
 
 " No, indeed ; nor himself either, as to that. I'm 
 deeply sorry. Still, I wouldn't have had you back out 
 if it couldn't be settled. It's obliged to hurt Alice. A 
 married man owes to his wife to be particular, very 
 particular, indeed. Your father used to say, it isn't 
 every game that's worth the candle. He said he saw 
 that somewhere, I forgot where. May be it was some 
 French book. But, my Lord ! if you had been killed ! 
 It makes me shudder to think about it ! Or that other 
 man either, enemy to me as he is, the same as to you ; 
 and God knows I never did him any harm. I'm glad 
 I didn't know anything about it before it was all over. 
 I think I should have gone distracted. I feel mightily 
 shaken up anyhow, sometimes, thinking about all I've 
 been through, and have to go through more of one 
 kind and another. Still Seaborn Torrance told me I 
 needn't fret myself about John Stapleton. Hadn't I 
 better let Judy slip around there and tell 'em the man 
 isn t dead, nor isn't going to die ? They won't know I 
 sent her. Somehow I hate for the poor thing to suffer 
 when it can be helped. You Judy ! " 
 
 " It's not worth while, mother ; go back, Judy un 
 less mother wants you for something else. Uncle Den 
 nis stopped the carriage as I came away from Junkin's, 
 where I left Charles Leslie ; I told him about it, and I 
 saw him go to Mr. Wendell, who was standing near. 
 There he is now, entering his gate." 
 
 The words of his mother cut him deeply, but the
 
 
 THE RETURN OF GUTHRIE. 91 
 
 g word's other edge wounded yet more sorely when he 
 1 eard a shout of joy answering Mr. Wendell's an- 
 i .ouncement of his news. 
 
 " There it is ! " said Mrs. Guthrie heartily. " I de 
 clare, it does my heart good to hear her ! Yes, the 
 fusses that can be raised about women ! Let a little talk 
 start about a woman, and men must go to fighting about 
 i:, and that, instead of stopping the talk, sets every 
 body's mouth going. Women ought to know better 
 1 ow to take care of themselves, their own selves. I 
 never wanted anybody to help me take care of myself. 
 The way for a woman to do when people are talking 
 about her I mean in a way that's scandalous, for no 
 body can stop all sorts of fault-finding, no more than 
 they can stop the setting of the sun or the rising of the 
 moon but when its scandalous talk, the best way to do 
 is to hunt up the one that started and demand proof or 
 authority, and brand every soul that can't or won't give 
 it as a liar. I've never had it to do, but that would 
 have been my way of doing it. Instead of that, women 
 get scared and go to crying, and then men get sorry 
 and go to shooting. But that poor girl ! Somehow I 
 wish that Alice hadn't turned her back on her, and so 
 started people to wanting to know the reason why, al 
 though Charlotte sticks to her and says she's as good as 
 anybody. If so, it's a great pity. It's a pity as it is. It 
 sounds badly for the town that the woman whatever 
 reason she might have had for a defender had to send 
 all the way to Augusta before she could get one. But 
 I'm done now. I've said more than I expected to say, 
 and more than I ought, may be, and I'm thankful the 
 thing is no worse than it is. You are going to see
 
 292 WIDOW GUTHRIE. 
 
 Alice, I suppose. She'll want to hear all about the fra- 
 , of course." 
 
 " Not for several days, mother. She'll hear in time 
 all she needs to know. I shall not be in a hurry to go 
 up there." 
 
 " Well, let's go in. You ought to have something 
 after all you've been through. Come along in." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 ANOTHER HOSTILE MEETING. 
 
 PETERSON BRADDY was as well pleased at the insti 
 tution of the suit in behalf of his friend as if he had 
 been expecting the whole condemnation money for him 
 self. He was a person who never had tried to conceal 
 his sentiments or his feelings, and who, if he had so 
 tried, would never have succeeded. In public he spoke 
 freely about what he called the big case, not with the 
 remotest notion of affecting public opinion in advance 
 of the trial, but because he could not keep silent, 
 Honorable to every degree, he would have spoken the; 
 same as if he had no special affection for Stapleton, nor 
 cause of personal resentment against Duncan Guthrie', 
 although he doubtless took pleasure in the prospect of 
 the discomfiture that was to befall one whom he cor 
 dially disliked. It happened several times upon tho 
 street that when some one had expressed a doubt as to 
 the result of the attempt to set aside a will that had
 
 ANOTHER HOSTILE MEETING. 293 
 
 leen acted upon and acquiesced in so long, he proposed 
 to wager in the proportion of ten to one. 
 
 " Gent'men, I'm a poor man ; not dead poor, I don't 
 i lean, not poor enough to be not able to raise ten dol- 
 ] irs on a pinch, and I'm willing to stake it along with 
 any other man's one dollar, by the eternal that that 
 v/ill is going to git kicked out of court." 
 
 People knew that this was meant merely as an em 
 phatic way of expressing confidence in his own judg 
 ment and foresight, without any notion of forestalling 
 the opinions of others. Despising him as Guthrie did, 
 yet it fretted him to know that whenever his own name 
 was mentioned by Braddy, it was with language hostile 
 and meant to be regarded as contemptuous. Still he re 
 membered to have tried to put upon the Braddy family 
 a thing that was hard to bear, the full extent of which 
 had not been made known to Peterson. Therefore, 
 Avhen not too inconvenient, he avoided being where he 
 was. Latterly, however, he had been angered several 
 times when some of Braddy's talk about the suit had 
 been reported to him, and he had nearly decided to take 
 some notice of it. He did not appear on the street 
 until the morning after his arrival. After supper his 
 mother made no allusion to the duel. She seemed to 
 feel that he had already suffered enough for what she 
 believed to be only an imprudence, and, therefore, with as 
 much cheer as she could ever get up, she had talked and 
 listened until bedtime. Never, as she thought, had she 
 felt so proud as the next morning when he came down 
 dressed with unusual care. He had decided to do no 
 work that day, but go among the villagers to get the 
 congratulations of his friends and be looked at by all 

 
 294: WIDOW GTJTHR1E. 
 
 for the danger he had passed with courage and safety. 
 Braddy, only late the last night having heard of the 
 duel, had come into town to get all the news about it. 
 He was sitting with a knot of men in a chair on the 
 sidewalk before the door of one of the stores. Guthrie, 
 in the act of passing, paused and saluted generally, and 
 when he noticed Braddy, took a step onward as if he 
 thought well to avoid him as usual ; but noticing that 
 he had not returned his salutation, and suspecting that 
 he could read in his face increased hostility, contempt, 
 and defiance, he waited a short while, as if reluctant and 
 undecided what to do, then said : 
 
 " Pete, I hear that you have been proposing to bet 
 some of your superabundant cash on the results of cer 
 tain lawsuits ? " 
 
 "Lie, sir," answered Braddy, leaning his chair 
 against the wall, smiling, and putting into his looks as 
 much as possible of the pleasant contempt that he felt. 
 " I've been offering to bet on but one single one ; and 
 as I can't git my bet took, I don't know but what I'll 
 make another, doublin' the odds." 
 
 " You are a foul-mouthed whelp of an intermeddler," 
 replied Guthrie, red with anger. 
 
 " That's a lie of your own make, sir," retorted 
 Braddy, his color unchanged and his .eyes opening- 
 wider. " It's a lie } like a hundred you've told, mostly 
 about women ; and for your last before the one you've 
 just let out of your mouth I can't understand for my 
 life how the bullet that man shot at you a' Thursday 
 didn't go plum' through your mean heart ! " 
 
 Guthrie stooped and slapped him upon the face, 
 and as he rose, struck him with his cane and thrust him
 
 ANOTHER HOSTILE MEETING. 295 
 
 against the wall. Braddy drew from his pocket the 
 small pistol he sometimes carried, cocking it with the 
 hand that held it. Guthrie, seizing his wrist, pressed it 
 downward ; the weapon was discharged, the ball enter 
 ing his groin. 
 
 Relaxing his hold, he said : 
 
 " That ends it, ends it all ; gentlemen, he has killed 
 me!" 
 
 They took him into the store and laid him upon the 
 counter, letting his head rest upon a pile of blankets. 
 Of Dr. Poythress, who ran thither from his office on 
 hearing the report, he asked : 
 
 " How long have I got, Poythress ? " 
 
 " A very short while, I am afraid, Guthrie. Gen 
 tlemen, please send for his mother at once." 
 
 " No, no, no ! please, don't ! O Alice ! Oh, poor 
 mother ! Tell them not to prosecute Braddy. He was 
 not to blame. He ought to have done it before. Beg 
 Mr. Bond O my God ! " 
 
 These were all the words he said. 
 
 A boy ran up the street loudly crying the tragedy. 
 Mrs. Guthrie was sitting on her piazza. In her hands was 
 some delicate needle-work, for she was never willing to be 
 idle. She had looked at her son as he left her house un 
 til he had disappeared from her sight, and never had she 
 felt greater admiration, pride, and fondness as he went 
 forth among the towns-people. Hearing the tumult, 
 she dropped her work, rose, and listened eagerly. Get 
 ting down the steps, she was making for the gate when 
 she distinguished the words of the cry as it was borne 
 along. Uttering a fearful shriek, she rushed forward. 
 The clergyman whose church she mostly attended met
 
 296 WIDOW GUTHRIE. 
 
 her just outside the gate, and, taking her arm, besought 
 her to let him carry her back. 
 
 " Loose me, sir 1 " she screamed, " and get out of 
 my way, or I'll call to Moses to unchain the dog and 
 set him on you ! You think I want your pitiful, deceit 
 ful, peddling prayers f I don't believe it ! It isn't an 
 hour since he went from my sight, the handsomest, 
 bravest, best man among you all ! It's & lie! I know 
 it's a lie ! It shall be a lie ! " 
 
 Breaking away, she ran on with all her might for 
 a hundred yards, when suddenly she fell, striking her 
 forehead against the root of a tree that stood upon the 
 sidewalk. When they assisted her to rise she made no 
 resistance to their leading her back, and, speaking not a 
 word, looked pleasantly from one to another while they 
 undressed and put her to bed. The body of her son 
 was brought to the house ; but of this she was never 
 made aware, and, for the remaining weeks of her life, 
 all recollection of his being seemed to have been obliter 
 ated from her mind. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 REGRETS : A LATE REVIVAL OF AFFECTION. 
 
 IT seems to be of the economy of life that much of 
 the expiation of guilt is done by the innocent. These 
 sometimes are beset more than evil doers by regret and 
 remorse. Indeed, I am not sure that those who have 
 had prof oundest insight into the interior being of man-
 
 REGRETS: A LATE REVIVAL OF AFFECTION. 297 
 
 kind, if asked what emotion in its just reality was 
 most rare, would answer remorse. From a man's own 
 odiousness he must try to turn his eyes in order to get 
 a glimpse of what is, or what he believes to be, good in 
 his individual being ; and so he represses as much as 
 he can of the recollection of his evil deeds, or pleads 
 extenuation that would avail little before any other 
 tribunal than- that of his own mind. Contrariwise, the 
 innocent, whose lives have been mixed in degrees of 
 confidence, fondness, and love with those persons who, 
 if not grossly evil, are unscrupulous regarding some 
 subjects of vital morality, when retribution has come 
 .sudden and in awful form, are apt to reproach them 
 selves for their own imagined neglect of the means 
 which might have prevented what has befallen. The 
 first shock upon Alice Guthrie was perhaps more ap 
 palling than it would have been if her married life had 
 been happier. It was impossible for her to remain in 
 such a frame for a very long time ; but the thought 
 that the man whom she had loved so dearly, her grief 
 for whose infirmities had been the more iinbittered be 
 cause they had been indulged in almost open disregard 
 of the feeling she had for him, was now dead, wrung 
 her heart with an agony more painful than if he had 
 been what she had trusted that he was when she gave 
 herself to him. Perhaps if she had submitted without 
 complaint to the rule to which, as her husband, he was 
 entitled ; perhaps if she had taken into account on what 
 a wider, ruder, more varied, more undefined, and more 
 willful scale are a man's wants than a woman's ; perhaps, 
 admitted that she had any right or duty to counsel at 
 all, if she had counseled with more meekness and hum-
 
 298 WIDOW GUTHRIE. 
 
 ble fear ; perhaps if she had not come away from him 
 when she did, and, as it were, left him deserted in the 
 midst of sudden great trials when he had most need of 
 sympathy and counsel ; perhaps if she had decided to 
 accept and endure all that had come and all that was to 
 come from merging her own lesser being into his greater ; 
 perhaps perhaps, oh, perhaps ! he might have been 
 saved from such an end and led a life her own part of 
 which, if not happiness, might have had content. 
 
 Fortunately she was with her parents, especially her 
 father, just and judicious, as he was faithful and fond. 
 He let her fall prostrate at the coming of the dreadful 
 news, and did not lift her up ; he counseled her mother 
 to let her lie where she was, and wait until her self- 
 accusings had exhausted themselves and her own heart 
 would cry out for others to answer them as she could 
 not. Hot waiting too long for that time to come, in 
 brief words fitly chosen he pleaded her cause. If it 
 gave an added pain to know that it was a relief to him 
 that she had been taken out from a connection that 
 ought not to have been made, and that in some other 
 way must have been rent asunder by a force that might 
 have been yet more unhappy, yet she could not but 
 listen to his wise, affectionate comfortings and appeals 
 to her own instincts to self-preservation against remorse 
 for things for which she in no wise was culpable, but 
 which, as a true woman and a true wife, she had labored 
 to prevent. 
 
 Her father accompanied her to the funeral. They 
 sojourned at her own house until it was over. She 
 would have returned with him but for the condition 
 of Mrs. Guthrie. To Mr. Macfarlane, who mentioned
 
 REGRETS: A LATE REVIVAL OF AFFECTION. 299 
 
 administration on the estate, Mr. Ludwell answered, 
 without consulting with his daughter, that neither he 
 nor she would undertake it; and he added that she 
 would decline to receive any of the property except 
 what had been given by himself. After that, Tolly, at 
 the suggestion of Mr. Macfarlane, who foresaw that 
 Mrs. Guthrie's incompetency would be perpetual, took 
 that trust upon himself. 
 
 It was touching to see how all these things wrought 
 upon Peterson Braddy. Horrified at the result of his 
 encounter with Guthrie, his anger yielded immediately 
 to remorse and compassion. Weeping aloud, he went 
 to the sheriff and said that he was ready to be taken to 
 jail. 
 
 " Go on home, Peter," answered the officer. " I'm 
 not afraid of your being out of the way when I call for 
 you." 
 
 Returning home, when his mother was told what 
 he had done she wept sorely, but said : 
 
 " Well, my son, I'm sorry from the bottom of my 
 heart; but that man had tried to hurt you and this 
 family more than you knew of. We would not let 
 Emily tell you all for fear you'd do what you've just 
 done. I'm thankful that we did not, and that at the 
 last you were acting in self-defense." 
 
 " What, ma ! " he said, momentarily ignoring his 
 own misfortune. " My God ! did Billy Pruitt take 
 Emily not knowin' how 
 
 " O Peterson, my dear son," she quickly interrupted, 
 " it was not anigh as bad as you seem to think. Dun 
 can Guthrie had flattered the child into believing that 
 he was in love with her, and, if it had not been found
 
 300 WIDOW GUTHEIE. 
 
 out in time, he might have ruined her ; but when her 
 mother and me told her what he meant by some of the 
 words he spoke to her she was scared nearly out of her 
 life, and she made her mother go straight to William 
 and tell him all about it. William saw how it was, and 
 he said he wanted her the same as before ; and well he 
 might, for she was as innocent as a baby of anything 
 wrong more than such little vanity as most girls have 
 that's as pretty as she was. William wanted to go to 
 the young man and have a fight with him ; but we 
 wouldn't let him, and we made him promise not to 
 mention the matter to you." 
 
 He bit his lips to repress another pang of resent 
 ment. It passed away, and afterward he was never 
 heard to mention Guthrie's name. 
 
 Mrs. Guthrie lay upon her bed, and did nothing ex 
 cept in meek obedience to those around her. She sel 
 dom spoke, and when she did it was as if she was try 
 ing to conciliate and lull an infant. One day Alice laid 
 by her the little Caroline. She looked at it fondly, and, 
 for a moment or two, fumbled with the button on the 
 neck of her gown. Then releasing it, she said in a 
 whisper : 
 
 " No, Bitter, no ; she is not hungry, she is asleep 
 already. Lay her in her crib, and be careful not to 
 wake her." 
 
 One morning, after a long sleep, she awoke and 
 seemed to be troubled. 
 
 " Where is Caroline ? " she asked piteously. " I let 
 her go to her Aunt Louisa's to show little Charlotte 
 how to play with her doll. Hitter ought to have 
 brought her back before now. Won't some of you
 
 DISMISSAL OF THE SUIT. 301 
 
 please go and hurry them on home? I'll be much 
 
 obliged to you." 
 
 In a few moments her face cleared, and she said : 
 " Ah ! here she is ! Thank you. Pretty child, 
 
 isn't she ? That'll do. The rest of you may go now." 
 
 Then she expired. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXXIV. 
 
 DISMISSAL OF THE SUIT. 
 
 AT the October term of the court, when the case of 
 John Stapleton, etc., vs. Hester Guthrie was sounded, 
 Tolly answered, requesting the judge to enter upon 
 the docket " Dismissed." Then Mr. Torrance rose, and 
 said : 
 
 " May it please the Court : As counsel for the re 
 spondent in the case which my brother Tolly has just 
 prayed your Honor to dismiss, I feel it my duty to say a 
 few words in explanation of some of her actions which 
 were not well understood. For several years, as your 
 Honor may have heard, the general mind of this com 
 munity, when it has been rather pointedly condemning 
 her deportment toward some members of her family, 
 lias speculated with more or less interest upon the 
 causes which induced a discrimination so unreasonable, 
 apparently so unnatural. It is known, however, that 
 during her wedded life she mingled little in other soci 
 ety than that of her own home, and in almost none 
 since the death of her husband. I need not argue that 
 such seclusion from human intercourse must make few
 
 302 WIDOW GUTHRIB. 
 
 the chances of cure from any infirmity to be both 
 candid and just, I should rather say malady of under 
 standing, and even keep from nearest neighbors the 
 knowledge of its existence. Almost at the beginning 
 of the confidential relations between her and myself as 
 her counsel, I detected that her intellect had been mis 
 led by delusions which of all seem most unhappy, and 
 therefore most to be compassionated. Ardently, in 
 tensely, passionately affectionate by nature, persuaded 
 that from some members of her family the returns re 
 ceived were inadequate to what she lavished upon them, 
 she had not strength to resist the impulsion which such 
 a delusion imparts toward resentment that, with beings 
 like hers, is perhaps the most grievous of misfortunes. 
 It is the more grievous when the sufferer exaggerates 
 both her own and the corresponding affections of others 
 to whom she turns through the instinct of forefending 
 absolute, abject despair. Of like origin was her unrea 
 soning adherence to those, so named, class distinctions 
 whose inevitable disappearance in the changing condi 
 tions of our social system thoughtful minds must fore 
 see and her passionate hostility to a union which dur 
 ing its brief career was signally blessed. To this in 
 firmity it was easy for one admitted within her confi 
 dence to discover were attributable her strange neglect 
 on one side, on the other her inordinate favoritism and 
 the eager energy with which, in hope of holding on to 
 the only love which she believed to be hers, she strove 
 for the continued accumulation of what, estimating by 
 a standard too often true, she regarded most contribu 
 tory to that end. In the case wherein to outsiders her 
 natural affection seemed to have been obtunded, its very
 
 DISMISSAL OF THE SUIT. 303 
 
 intensity was the source of its disappointment. These 
 words of mine have abundant proof in the fact that on 
 h 3r bed of death the Divine Being mercifully let her last 
 infatuation take a happy form, when, in her imagina- 
 t'on, the one whom she seemed to have discarded, be 
 came again a little child and was fondled upon her 
 breast. 
 
 " I am free to say, may it please your Honor, that 
 unong my clients, even among all my acquaintances, I 
 have never known a person in whom the sense of truth 
 und general uprightness was more pronounced. Had 
 she lived to make answer to this complainant's bill, not 
 only would she not have contradicted or sought to 
 avoid a single allegation that she believed to be true, 
 but she would have insisted upon discovering other 
 facts unknown to the complainant, even if assured that 
 such discovery would have rendered vain all resistance 
 to the case. She solemnly believed that everything 
 done by her was honorable and just. But there never 
 would have been protracted litigation. A proposal 
 would have been made at this term of the court for a 
 settlement which, from my knowledge of complainant's 
 counsel and himself, I am sure would have been accept 
 ed. I thank the Court for its indulgence." 
 
 When he ceased, Bond, who a month before had 
 married Miss Jewell, rose, and, with much feeling, 
 said : 
 
 " May it please your Honor, the words just spoken 
 by my brother Torrance can not but impart much relief 
 to all minds, to none more gratefully than my own ; for 
 there can be no doubt that to necessary degrees they 
 are applicable to the respondent's unhappy son. To
 
 304: WIDOW GUTHRIE. 
 
 me, what time I held his acquaintance, it became a mat 
 ter of much surprise that one so variously gifted, so 
 fortunate in possession inherited and achieved, in hope 
 and in prospect, diverged into ways which an under 
 standing well balanced must foresee can lead only to 
 misfortune. I am profoundly gratified to believe that 
 such eccentricities were moved by influences which the 
 very strongest and most valiant can never wholly over 
 come. Therefore I feel all the regret, and my mind 
 and my heart pay all the honor that belong to the mem 
 ory of Duncan Guthrie." 
 
 Mrs. Macfarlane, when these speeches were reported 
 to her, wept many, but they were thankful tears. She 
 remembered that in the girlhood of her sister their 
 mother had suffered much anxiety regarding the for 
 mer's sanity, and once had spoken of it to their father, 
 but he had ignored it with much anger, and so allusion 
 to it was never made again. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXY. 
 
 ALICE BETURNS TO BROAD RIVER. 
 
 TAKEN again to the bosom of her parents, Alice did 
 not try to forget, unhappy as most of it had been, the 
 experience of her married life. She would not deny to 
 her heart that she had loved dearly the husband so gift 
 ed to win an ardent, trustful young woman's love. The 
 singleness of her devotion had intensified the pain that 
 had come with the discovery of selfishness that amount-
 
 ALICE RETURNS TO BROAD RIVER. 3Q5 
 
 ed to dereliction in the sense of honor. These her 
 mind must remember along with the fond tilings ; but 
 mingled with a sense of deliverance from a union which 
 had fallen so soon into disaster were a sorrow, at times 
 profound, almost passionate, that such had been its des 
 tiny, and a pity often overflowing in tears for him w T ho, 
 with such recklessness, had ruined himself. 
 
 Yet the innocent can not always go bowed down, 
 and their resilience from self-reproach, although not 
 marked by outward sign, must be gladsome. In time 
 the freshness and some of the cheerfulness of girlhood 
 came back. Thankful to know that Mrs. Guthrie's 
 understanding was proved to have been so much im 
 paired, more painful must have been the recollection 
 of her son's infirmities if her heart had not pleaded 
 condonement of what inheritance and misdirected in 
 dulgence had made inevitable. 
 
 Some months after her return, Stapleton, with his 
 son, made a two days' visit. Her parents were im 
 pressed by him much and wondered that such a man could 
 have been ever an object of dislike. They did not see 
 him again for more than a year. He then proposed to 
 take back his daughter, but was gratified when Alice 
 answered, no, not yet. In this while he continued to 
 live at his home, trying, without much success, to make 
 it look as during the time of his wife. Braddy often 
 rode down, and, in his old-fashioned way, sometimes 
 jested at his crude attempts to prune the shrubbery and 
 train the vines. He would have chided him, perhaps, 
 for not making more personal showing of the large estate 
 that had devolved to his children, but that such chiding 
 would have induced thoughts that he must not indulge. 
 20
 
 306 WIDOW GUTHRIE. 
 
 On his next visit to the Ludwells, he was dressed 
 with careful regard to prevailing fashion, and wore the 
 air of a serious but undisturbed man of the world. 
 
 " I'm very glad you came, Mr. Stapleton, but why 
 didn't you bring Alan 2 " 
 
 lie looked at her on whose face was a sheen like 
 that of maidenhood, and answered : 
 
 " Not this time, Alice. I decided not to bring him 
 this time." 
 
 Grief and solitude soften the manners of a good 
 man. On him comes not the wearing that often oldens 
 women. Manful always, living in memory of a great 
 loss had enhanced a dignity arid courteousness that 
 were very attractive. He was to remain two nights 
 and a day. 
 
 A few rods in the rear of the mansion the ground 
 declined abruptly about a hundred feet to a bold spring 
 of water. Around this was a dense growth of trees 
 and various shrubbery, among whose thickets, thrushes, 
 cat-birds, fly-catchers, and other songsters, flitted and 
 chirruped. Several rustic seats were around. Hither 
 Alice often retired, mornings and afternoons, to spend 
 an hour in reading and meditation. Stapleton accom 
 panied her there the evening before he was to leave. 
 Sunset came on while they were talking about the en 
 gagement of Tolly and Charlotte Macfarlane. 
 
 " Well," said Stapleton, " the visit has done me 
 good, and I have put off till now to tell you what was 
 my chief purpose." 
 
 She looked up, her eyelids trembled, and she turned 
 her face away. 
 
 " That was to ask you to marry me, Alice."
 
 ALICE RETURNS TO BROAD RIVER. 307 
 
 Some tremor was in his voice, but the brief direct 
 ness of his words showed the feeling of a right to say 
 them, even if without a thought of anything upon which 
 he could lay a hope. 
 
 " O Mr. Stapleton ! " she said, as if overwhelmed 
 with confusion, " how could you ask such an impossible 
 thing ! " 
 
 Covering her face with her hands, she wept almost 
 aloud. 
 
 " Alice, I foresaw that the announcement of such a 
 wish would be painful to you, although I can not but be 
 lieve that you must have suspected that it was to come at 
 some time or other. I have studied my heart, and tried 
 to discipline its feelings. The result is, I have decided 
 to follow what I can not, and am not willing to resist. 
 I expected a refusal ; but I beg you not to make it posi 
 tive and perpetual, unless you feel that it is not possi 
 ble for your regard for me ever to become different 
 from what it has been. I know you will answer me 
 candidly, as you have always done with everybody. I 
 am going to put to you a question which I have, I think, 
 a right to ask, If I have, I think you ought to answer 
 it. If the thought, or the apprehension that I might 
 address you as I have done just now, ever entered your 
 mind, among the reasons that made you turn away from 
 it was there the feeling that in no circumstances could 
 my suit ever have prevailed ? " 
 
 The paleness disappeared from her cheek, and a dis 
 tinctive blush took its place. 
 
 " Mr. Stapleton if I were to answer that question 
 but I can not ! I O Mr. Stapleton ! " 
 
 She rose, her face suffused with scarlet, and said :
 
 308 WIDOW GUTHRIE. 
 
 " Come, let us return to the house. Not another 
 word must I hear upon that subject, now or ever 
 again." And she started to move away. 
 
 " Alice ! " the call, low as it was, sounded as coming 
 from one in authority. Still seated, as she turned her 
 face back, he continued : 
 
 " I will say no more upon that subject now ; but 
 there are one or two things which I want you to hear. 
 I loved Caroline with a love as entire as any man could 
 feel for a woman so richly worthy of it. As I felt 
 toward her before my marriage with her, so now I feel 
 toward you. There is no mystery in that, and no dere 
 liction of loyalty. I should never seek another wife if 
 I did not believe that I should love again as I loved 
 her. And now one more. I am going back home to 
 morrow, to be away six months. Then I shall return. 
 During that while I shall not write to you, and I sol 
 emnly ask that you do not write to me, unless it be 
 about my child or upon a subject other than that which 
 I have just named. I make another request, the motive 
 of which I am not afraid of your misunderstanding. 
 That is, that before that period expires you will let 
 your parents know all that I have now said. But to 
 these requests I ask no promise. Now I will return 
 with you to the house." 
 
 Never had he shown to such advantage as during 
 this visit. Alice was glad to get from the light of the 
 supper table to the piazza. During the evening, sitting 
 in the shadow of one of the pillars, she listened as, un 
 constrained, respectful, clear, he chatted mainly with 
 her father. At breakfast, next morning, she showed 
 that she was embarrassed by the unusual glow that she
 
 ALICE RETURNS TO BROAD RIVER. 309 
 
 lelt to be upon her face. When the baby was taken 
 from her to be kissed good-by she put out her lips but 
 for a moment, then extended her arms back to Alice. 
 Smiling, he said ; 
 
 " She feels that she-belongs to you, Alice." 
 " So she does ; but I. will see that she does not f or- 
 .zet you." 
 
 On a fine morning before the tavern door a carriage 
 stood, the horses' heads turned toward Broad River. 
 
 " Good-by, Jack ! " said Peterson Braddy. " God 
 A'mighty bless you, Jack ! " - v 
 
 He turned away, and tears were in his eyes. Imme 
 diately Stapleton entered, and upon his mind was no 
 shadow. 
 
 THE END.
 
 t 

 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped, below 
 
 APR 1 1952 
 
 
 "^^
 
 214V 
 
 W63 
 
 APR 1 1952 
 
 OUTHERN REGIONAL!. BRARY FAC L TY 
 
 UCS' 
 
 II I II I ' 
 
 A A 000033383 1