with it and laid him at her feet. When he
had come to this bold conclusion, he cheered up his horse with a thump
of his heel and cantered rapidly over the rest of the road.

Peggy, having nothing else to do, was standing by the yard gate when he
came in sight, and she watched his approach with feelings of surprise
and disgust. She had seen him ride away, and not considering the fact
that he did not carry his valise with him, she supposed he had taken his
final departure. She had conceived a violent dislike to Mr Croft,
looking upon him in the light of an interloper and a robber, who had
come to break up that expected marriage between Master Junius and Miss
Rob, which the servants at Midbranch looked forward to as necessary for
the prosperity of the family; and the preliminary stages of which she
had taken upon herself the responsibility of describing with so much
minuteness of detail. With the politeness natural to the Southern negro,
she opened the gate for the gentleman, but as she closed it behind him,
she cast after him a look of earnest malevolence. "Ef dot ole Miss
Keswick don' kunjer you, sah," she said in an undertone, "I's gwine to
do it myse'f. So, dar!" And she gave her foot a stamp on the ground.

Lawrence, all ignorant of the malignant feeling he had excited in this,
to him, very unimportant and uninteresting black girl, tied his horse
and went into the house. As he passed the open door of the parlor he
saw a lady reading by a window in the farthest corner. Hanging up his
hat, he entered, hoping that the reader, whose form was partially
concealed by the back of the large rocking chair in which she was
sitting, was Miss March. But it was not; it was Mrs Keswick's niece,
deeply engrossed by a large-paged novel. She turned her head as he
entered, and said: "Good evening."

"Good evening, Miss Annie," said Lawrence, seating himself in a chair
opposite her on the other side of the window.

"Mr Croft," said she, laying her book on her lap, and inclining herself
slightly toward him, "you have no right to call me Miss Annie, and I
wish you would not do it. The servants in the South call ladies by their
first names, whether they are married or not, but people would think it
very strange if you should imitate them. My name in this house is Mrs
Null, and I wish you would not forget it."

"The trouble with me is," said Lawrence, with a smile, "that I cannot
forget it is not Mrs Null, but, of course, if you desire