that I didn't. Just went in and
exchanged a few words with 'em. Man's got a right to talk to his
friends, I reckon; but if he ain't, w'y, it's time to shut up shop."

Alf came in and, with Guinea, sang an old song, and their father sat
there with the tears shining in his eyes. He leaned over, and I heard
him whisper to his wife: "Did have just a mild bit of a round, Susan,
and I hope that you and the Lord will forgive me for it. If you do I
know the Lord will. I'm an old liar, Susan."

"No, you are not, Lemuel," she answered, in a low voice. "You are the
best man in the world, and everybody loves you."

I saw him squeeze her wrinkled hand.

I could not sleep, but in a strange disturbance tossed about. Alf was
talking in a dream. I got up and sat for a time at the window, looking
out toward the gullied hill that had turned out the light of the sun. On
the morrow my work was to begin. And what was to be the result? Was it
intended that I should reach the bar and win renown, or had I been
listed for the life of a pedagogue? Was my love for the girl so new that
it dazzled me? No, it was now a passion, wounded and sore. But why? By
that little word, "Oh." I put on my clothes, tip-toed down stairs and
walked about the yard. The moon was full, low above the scrub oaks. A
streak of shimmering light ran down toward the spring, and over it I
slowly strode. I heard the water gurgling from under the moss-covered
spring-house, and I saw the leaf-shadow patch-work moving to and fro
over the smooth slabs of stone. Long I stood there, looking at the
pictures, listening to the music; and turning back toward the house, I
had gone some distance when I chanced to look up, and then, thrilled, I
slowly sank upon my knees. At one of the large windows, in the northeast
end of the house, stood Guinea, in a loose, white robe, the light of the
full moon falling upon her. Behind her head her hands were clasped, and
she stood there like a marble cross. Her face was upward turned, and the
low yellow moon was bronzing her brown hair--a glorified marble cross,
with a crown of gold, I thought, as I bowed in my worship. My forehead
touched the path, and when I lifted my head--the cross was gone.

CHAPTER VI.

We ate breakfast early the next morning, while the game cocks were yet
crowing in their coop. When I went down I heard the jingling of trace
chains, and I knew that the old man was making ready to plow the young
corn. I had insisted u