s trifling niggers, to a
place where there's music and art, and life and society--where there's
something going on all the time, I'd _like_ to marry you. But if I did
so now, you'd take me out to your rickety old house, with your daffy
old uncle and his dumb old housekeeper, and I should lose my own mind
in a week or ten days. When you can promise to take me to New York,
I'll promise to marry you, Ben. I want to travel, and to see things,
to visit the art galleries and libraries, to hear Patti, and to look
at the millionaires promenading on Fifth Avenue--and I'll marry the
man who'll take me there!"

"Uncle Malcolm can't live forever, Graciella--though I wouldn't wish
his span shortened by a single day--and I'll get the plantation. And
then, you know," he added, hesitating, "we may--we may find the
money."

Graciella shook her head compassionately. "No, Ben, you'll never find
the money. There isn't any; it's all imagination--moonshine. The war
unsettled your uncle's brain, and he dreamed the money."

"It's as true as I'm standing here, Graciella," replied Ben,
earnestly, "that there's money--gold--somewhere about the house. Uncle
couldn't imagine paper and ink, and I've seen the letter from my
uncle's uncle Ralph--I'll get it and bring it to you. Some day the
money will turn up, and then may be I'll be able to take you away.
Meantime some one must look after uncle and the place; there's no one
else but me to do it. Things must grow better some time--they always
do, you know."

"They couldn't be much worse," returned Graciella, discontentedly.

"Oh, they'll be better--they're bound to be! They'll just have to be.
And you'll wait for me, won't you, Graciella?"

"Oh, I suppose I'll have to. You're around here so much that every one
else is scared away, and there isn't much choice at the best; all the
young men worth having are gone away already. But you know my
ultimatum--I must get to New York. If you are ready before any one
else speaks, you may take me there."

"You're hard on a poor devil, Graciella. I don't believe you care a
bit for me, or you wouldn't talk like that. Don't you suppose I have
any feelings, even if I ain't much account? Ain't I worth as much as a
trip up North?"

"Why should I waste my time with you, if I didn't care for you?"
returned Graciella, begging the question. "Here's a rose, in token of
my love."

She plucked the flower and thrust it into his hand.

"It's full of thorns, like yo