s old home.
Since his father's death the place had undergone repairs and
improvements. The lawn had been cleared off and sown in grass, the
fences had been mended, and the house had been painted white. It could
never suggest prosperity, but it had assumed an appearance of comfort.

In the little room next the kitchen he heard his stepmother scolding a
small negro servant, and he broke in good-humouredly upon her discourse.

"All right, ma?" he called.

Marthy Burr turned and came towards him. She had aged but little, and
her gaunt figure and sharp face still showed the force of her
indomitable spirit.

"I declar' if 'tain't you, Nick!" she exclaimed.

He took her in his arms and kissed her perfunctorily, for he was chary
of caresses. Then he lifted Nannie's baby from the floor and tossed it
lightly.

"Nannie's spending the day," explained his stepmother with an attempt at
conversation. "She would name that child Marthy, an' it's the best
lookin' one she's got."

The baby, a pink-cheeked atom in a blue gingham frock, made a frantic
clutch at the vivid hair of the giant who held her, and set up a tearful
disclaimer. Nicholas returned her to the rug, where she attempted to
swallow a string of spools, and looked at his stepmother.

"Where's that dress I sent you?" he demanded.

Marthy Burr sat down and smoothed out the creases in her purple calico.

"Laid away in camphor," she replied with a diffidence that was rapidly
waning. "Marthy, if you swallow them spools, you won't have anything to
play with."

Nicholas looked about the common little room--at the coarse lace
curtains, the crude chromos, the distorted vases--and returned to his
question.

"You promised me you'd wear it," he went on.

"Wear my best alpaca every day?" she demanded suspiciously. "I wouldn't
have it on more'n an hour befo' one of them worthless niggers would have
spilt bacon gravy all over it. There ain't been no peace in this house
since you sent those no 'count darkies here to help me. If yo' pa was
'live, he'd turn them out bag an' baggage befo' sundown. Lord, Lord,
when I think of what yo' poor pa would say if he was to walk in now an'
find them creeturs in the kitchen."

Her stepson smiled.

"Now, if you'll sit still a moment, I'll tell you a piece of news," he
said.

"You ain't thinkin' of gettin' married, air you?" inquired Marthy Burr
with sudden keenness.

"Married!" He laughed aloud. "I've no time for such nonsense.
List