y sociably with
her, calling her "Granny," and winking slyly at 'Lena as he did so.
Mr. Livingstone had too much good sense to sit quietly by and hear
his mother ridiculed by his son, and in a loud, stern voice he bade
the young gentleman "behave himself."

"Law, now," said Mrs. Nichols, "let him talk if he wants to. I like
to hear him. He's the only grandson I've got."

This speech had the effect of silencing John Jr. quite as much as
his father's command. If he could tease his grandmother by talking
to her, he would take delight in doing so, but if she _wanted_ him to
talk--that was quite another thing. So moving away from her, he took
a seat near 'Lena, telling her her dress was "a heap too short," and
occasionally pinching her, just to vary the sport! This last,
however, 'Lena returned with so much force that he grew weary of the
fun, and informing her that he was going to a _circus_ which was in
town that evening, he arose to leave the room.

Mr. Livingstone, who partially overheard what he had said, stopped
him and asked "where he was going?"

Feigning a yawn and rubbing his eyes, John Jr. replied that "he was
confounded sleepy and was going to bed."

"'Lena, where did he say he was going?" asked her uncle.

'Lena trembled, for John Jr. had clinched his fist, and was shaking
it threateningly at her.

"Where did he say he was going?" repeated her uncle.

Poor 'Lena had never told a lie in her life, and now braving her
cousin's anger, she said, "To the circus, sir. Oh, I wish you had
not asked me."

"You'll get your pay for that," muttered John Jr. sullenly reseating
himself by his father, who kept an eye on him until he saw him safely
in his room.

Much as John Jr. frightened 'Lena with his threats, in his heart he
respected her for telling the truth, and if the next morning on their
way home in the stage, in which his father compelled him to take a
seat, he frequently found it convenient to step on her feet, it was
more from a natural propensity to torment than from any lurking
feeling of revenge. 'Lena was nowise backward in returning his
cousinly attentions, and so between an interchange of kicks, wry
faces, and so forth, they proceeded toward "Maple Grove," a
description of which will be given in another chapter.

CHAPTER V.

MAPLE GROVE.

The residence of Mr. Livingstone, or rather of Mr. Livingstone's wife,
was a large, handsome building, such as one often finds in Kentucky,
p