it more to save the lazy negroes' steps than from any regard for
our comfort," retorted 'Lina. "At all events he's been mighty careful
since how he gratified my wishes. Sometimes I believe he perfectly hates
me, and wishes I'd never been born," and tears, which arose from anger,
rather than any wounded sisterly feeling, glittered in 'Lina's black
eyes.

"Hugh does not hate any one," said Mrs. Worthington, "much less his
sister, though you must admit that you try him terribly."

"How, I'd like to know?" 'Lina asked, and her mother replied:

"He thinks you proud, and vain, and artificial, and you know he abhors
deceit above all else. Why, he'd cut off his right hand sooner than tell
a lie."

"Pshaw!" was 'Lina's contemptuous response, then after a moment she
continued: "I wonder how we came to be so different. He must be like his
father, and I like mine--that is, supposing I know who he is. Wouldn't
it be funny if, just to be hateful, he had sent you back the wrong
child?"

"What made you think of that?" Mrs. Worthington asked, quickly, and
'Lina replied:

"Oh, nothing, only the last time Hugh had one of his tantrums, and got
so outrageously angry at me, because I made Mr. Bostwick think my hair
was naturally curly, he said he'd give all he owned if it were so, but
I reckon he'll never have his wish. There's too much of old Sam about me
to admit of a doubt," and half spitefully, half playfully she touched
the spot in the center of her forehead known as her birthmark.

When not excited it could scarcely be discerned at all, but the moment
she was aroused, the delicate network of veins stood out round and full,
forming what seemed to be a tiny hand without the thumb. It showed a
little now in the firelight, and Mrs. Worthington shuddered as she
glanced at what brought so vividly before her the remembrance of other
and wretched days. Adaline observed the shudder and hastened to change
the conversation from herself to Hugh, saying by way of making some
amends for her unkind remarks: "It really is kind in him to give me a
home when I have no particular claim upon him, and I ought to respect
him for that. I am glad, too, that Mr. Stanley made it a condition in
his will that if Hugh ever married, he should forfeit the Spring Bank
property, as that provides against the possibility of an upstart wife
coming here some day and turning us, or at least me, into the street.
Say, mother, are you not glad that Hugh can never marr