wickedness of some people. My sister sickened when the child was
about six years old, and her husband, Harvey Peyton--"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No it don't," said the old lady, bringing her umbrella down with force
on the porch. "Not a bit of it. Such an outrageous marriage should not
be suffered to exist. They should be divorced. He does nothing for her,
and neglects and deserts her absolute