d to be, just as the fierce north wind
shifted its course and drove first at the uncurtained window of the
sitting-room, and then at the ponderous doors of the gloomy hall.

"It is some one in the storm, though I can't imagine why any one should
be abroad to-night," Hugh said, going to the window and peering out into
the darkness.

"Lyd's child, most likely. Negro young ones are always squalling, and I
heard her tell Aunt Chloe at supper time that Tommie had the colic,"
'Lina remarked opening again the book she was reading, and with a slight
shiver drawing nearer to the fire.

"Where are you going, my son?" asked Mrs. Worthington, as Hugh arose to
leave the room.

"Going to Lyd's cabin, for if Tommie is sick enough to make his screams
heard above the storm, she may need some help," was Hugh's reply, and a
moment after he was ploughing his way through the drifts which lay
between the house and the negro quarters.

"How kind and thoughtful he is," the mother said, softly, more to
herself than to her daughter, who nevertheless quickly rejoined:

"Yes, kind to niggers, and horses, and dogs, I'll admit, but let me, or
any other white woman come before him as an object of pity, and the
tables are turned at once. I wonder what does make him hate women so."

"I don't believe he does," Mrs. Worthington replied. "His uncle, you
know, was very unfortunate in his marriage, and had a way of judging
all our sex by his wife. Living with him as long as Hugh did, it's
natural he should imbibe a few of his ideas."

"A few," 'Lina repeated, "better say all, for John Stanley and Hugh
Worthington are as near alike as an old and young man well could be.
What an old codger he was though, and how like a savage he lived here. I
never shall forget how the house looked the day we came, or how
satisfied Hugh seemed when he met us at the gate, and said, 'everything
was in spendid order,'" and closing her book, the young lady laughed
merrily as she recalled the time when she first crossed her brother's
threshold, stepping, as she affirmed, over half a dozen dogs, and as
many squirming kittens, catching her foot in some fishing tackle,
finding tobacco in the china closet, and segars in the knife box, where
they had been put to get them out of the way.

"But Hugh really did his best for us," mildly interposed the mother.
"Don't you remember what the servants said about his cleaning one floor
himself because he knew they were tired!"

"Did