which he used when he spoke of Mr. Jefferson. He could not
even speak of him without a certain trembling of the voice. Any one
could see the change in him since then, but it was hardly to be believed
that the old feeling did not abide at the bottom of the well! Mrs.
Selden was annoyed. The letter might have been from Mr. Madison, or Mr.
Monroe, or Albert Gallatin, or John Randolph,--though John Randolph,
too, had quarrelled with the President,--or Spencer Roane, or almost any
great Democrat-Republican. It was no business of hers whom it was from.
A colour crept into her withered cheek, and she tapped her black silk
shoe upon the floor of the coach. "Yes; a giant of a sum," Lewis had
said with great easiness, and then had put the paper out of sight. Why
had he not been frank? He might have said to an old friend, "That's a
cipher,--you see men will be riddlers still!" and then have laid away
the letter as securely as he pleased! Mrs. Selden hated deceit in
anything, great or small, and hated to find flaws in folk of whom she
was fond. It was a trifle truly, but Lewis Rand had meant to give her a
false impression, and that when he knew as well as she how she detested
falsity! As for his reasons for concealment,--let him keep his reasons!
She angrily told herself that Jane Selden had no desire to pry into a
politician's secrets. But he should have said that the letter was a
letter! With which conclusion, the coach having drawn up before Vinie
Mocket's door, Mrs. Selden dismissed the matter from her mind, and,
descending, was met by Vinie herself at the gate.

"I've got the sweetmeats all cut, Mrs. Selden! Grapes and baskets, and
hearts with arrows through them, and vases of roses. I never did any
prettier. Won't you come in, ma'am? There's water just drawn from the
well."

"Then I'll have a glass, and I'll just look at the sweetmeats. It is
late and I must be going home. Vinie, why don't you have your gate
mended?"

"It always was broken," said Vinie. "I'm always meaning to have it
mended. Will you sit on the porch, ma'am? It's cooler than inside."

The short path was lined with zinnias and with prince's feather and the
porch covered with a shady grapevine. Vinie brought a pitcher beaded
with cool well water, and then a salver spread with fanciful shapes cut
from the delicate green rind of melon and ready for preserving. Mrs.
Selden drank the well water and approved Vinie's skill; then, "Your
brother's gone to North Ga