Thee's under no obligation to us," said Friend Mitchenor, in his strict
sense of justice; "thee pays for what thee gets."

The finer feminine instinct of Abigail led her to interpose.

"We'll not expect too much of thee, at first, Richard," she remarked,
with a kind expression of face, which had the effect of a smile: "but
our ways are plain and easily learned. Thee knows, perhaps, that we're
no respecters of persons."

It was some days, however, before the young man could overcome his
natural hesitation at the familiarity implied by these new forms of
speech. "Friend Mitchenor" and "Moses" were not difficult to learn,
but it seemed a want of respect to address as "Abigail" a woman of such
sweet and serene dignity as the mother, and he was fain to avoid either
extreme by calling her, with her cheerful permission, "Aunt Mitchenor."
On the other hand, his own modest and unobtrusive nature soon won the
confidence and cordial regard of the family. He occasionally busied
himself in the garden, by way of exercise, or accompanied Moses to
the corn-field or the woodland on the hill, but was careful never to
interfere at inopportune times, and willing to learn silently, by the
simple process of looking on.

One afternoon, as he was idly sitting on the stone wall which
separated the garden from the lane, Asenath, attired in a new gown of
chocolate-colored calico, with a double-handled willow work-basket on
her arm, issued from the house. As she approached him, she paused and
said--

"The time seems to hang heavy on thy hands, Richard. If thee's strong
enough to walk to the village and back, it might do thee more good than
sitting still."

Richard Hilton at once jumped down from the wall.

"Certainly I am able to go," said he, "if you will allow it."

"Haven't I asked thee?" was her quiet reply.

"Let me carry your basket," he said, suddenly, after they had walked,
side by side, some distance down the lane.

"Indeed, I shall not let thee do that. I'm only going for the mail,
and some little things at the store, that make no weight at all. Thee
mustn't think I'm like the young women in the city, who, I'm told, if
they buy a spool of Cotton, must have it sent home to them. Besides,
thee mustn't over-exert thy strength."

Richard Hilton laughed merrily at the gravity with which she uttered the
last sentence.

"Why, Miss--Asenath, I mean--what am I good for; if I have not strength
enough to carry a basket?"

"Thee's a