cinated him. He had known
something of the other sort, those who had arrived at prosperity with
manners and speech that still reflected the meaner condition from which
they had risen.
"I haven't a thing to offer her--this is plain madness of mine!" he kept
telling himself, and then the expression of his face would become grim
and determined. No more of the river for him--he'd get hold of some land
and go to raising cotton; that was the way money was made.
Slow as The Naiad was, the days passed much too swiftly for him. When
Memphis was reached their friendly intercourse would come to an end.
There would be her brother, of whom she had occasionally spoken--he
would be pretty certain to have the ideas of his class.
As for Betty, she liked this tall fellow who helped her through the
fatigue of those long days, when there was only the unbroken sweep of
the forest on either hand, with here and there a clearing where some
outrageous soul was making a home for himself. The shores became duller,
wilder, more uninteresting as they advanced, and then at last they
entered the Mississippi, and she was almost home.
Betty was not unexcited by the prospect. She would be the mistress of
the most splendid place in West Tennessee. She secretly aspired to be a
brilliant hostess. She could remember when the doors of Belle Plain
were open to whoever had the least claim to distinction--statesmen
and speculators in land; men who were promoting those great schemes of
improvement, canals and railroads; hard-featured heroes of the two
wars with England--a diminishing group; the men of the modern army, the
pathfinders, and Indian fighters, and sometimes a titled foreigner. She
wondered if Tom had maintained the traditions of the place. She found
that Carrington had heard of Belle Plain. He spoke of it with respect,
but with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm, for how could he feel
enthusiasm when he must begin his chase after fortune with bare
hands?--he suffered acutely whenever it was mentioned. The days, like
any other days, dwindled. The end of it all was close at hand. Another
twenty-four hours and Carrington reflected there would only be good-by
to say.
"We will reach New Madrid to-night," he told her. They were watching the
river, under a flood of yellow moonlight.
"And then just another day--Oh, I can hardly wait!" cried Betty
delightedly. "Soon I shall hope to see you at Belle Plain, Mr.
Carrington," she added graciously.
"T
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