ne again in her mind;
whereupon he began to move briskly about the room with a busy air,
picking up her napkin, dusting a chair with his hand, exchanging the
position of the andirons in the fireplace; and, apparently discovering
that the por-trait of Georges Meilhac was out of line, he set it awry,
then straight again, the while he hummed an old "spiritual" of which
only the words "Chain de Lion Down" were allowed to be quite audible.
They were repeated often, and at each repetition of them he seemed
profoundly, though decorously, amused, in a way which might have led
to a conjecture that the refrain bore some distant reference to his
master's eccentricity of temper. At first be chuckled softly, but at the
final iteration of "Chain de Lion Down" burst into outright laughter.

"Honey, my Law!" he exclaimed, "But yo' pa de 'ceivin'dest man! He
mighty proud er you!"

"Proud of me!" She turned to him in astonishment.

Nelson's laughter increased. "Hain't be jass de 'ceivin'dest man!
Yessuh, he de sot-uppest man in dis town 'count what you done last
night. What he say dis mawn', dat jass his way!"

"Ah, no!" said Miss Betty, sadly.

"Yes'm! He proud er you, but he teahbul mad at dat man. He hain't mad at
you, but he gotter cuss somebody! Jass reach out fo' de nighes' he kin
lay han's on, an' dis mawn' it happen soze it were you, honey. Uhuh! You
oughter hearn him ins' night when he come home. Den it were me. Bless
God, I ain't keerin'. He weren't mad at me, no mo'n' he were at you. He
jass mad!"

Miss Betty looked at the old fellow keenly. He remained, however,
apparently unconscious of her scrutiny, and occupied himself with
preparations for removing the tray.

"Nelson, what is the quarrel between my father and Mr. Vanrevel?"

He had lifted the tray, but set it down precipitately, bending upon her
a surprised and sobered countenance.

"Missy," he said, gravely, "Dey big trouble 'twix' dem two."

"I know," she returned quietly. "What is it?"

"Wha' fo' you ax me, Missy?"

"Because you're the only one I can ask. I don't know anyone here well
enough, except you."

Nelson's lips puckered solemnly. "Mist' Vanrevel vote Whig; but he ag'in
Texas."

"Well, what if he is?"

"Yo' pa mighty strong fo' Texas."

"No'm, dat ain't hardly de beginnin'. Mist' lanrevel he a Ab'litionist."

"Well? Won't you tell me?"

"Honey, folks roun' heah mos' on 'em like Mist' Vanrevel so well dey
ain't hole it up ag'in' him--but,