ce. She wondered--nay, she knew that he longed to tell it to her. As
the year rolled around again to summer, and she heard from time to
time of his quarterly visits to the town as a member of the worshipful
Quarterly County Court, she began to hope that, softened by his
prosperity, lifted so high by his honors above all the cavillings of the
Kittredges, he might be more leniently disposed toward her, might pity
her, might even go so far as to forgive.

But none of her filial messages reached her father's fiery old heart.

"Ye'll be sure, Abs'lom, ef ye see Joe Boyd in town, ye'll tell him ter
gin dad my respec's, an' the word ez how the baby air a-thrivin', an' I
wants ter fotch him ter see the fambly at home, ef they'll lemme."

Then she would watch Absalom with all the confidence of happy
anticipation, as he rode off down the mountain with his hair flaunting,
and his spurs jingling, and his shy young horse curveting.

But no word ever came in response; and sometimes she would take the
child in her arms and carry him down a path, worn smooth by her own
feet, to a jagged shoulder thrust out by the mountain where all the
slopes fell away, and a crag beetled over the depths of the Cove. Thence
she could discern certain vague lines marking the enclosure, and a tiny
cluster of foliage hardly recognizable as the orchard, in the midst of
which the cabin nestled. She could not distinguish them, but she knew
that the cows were coming to be milked, lowing and clanking their bells
tunefully, fording the river that had the sunset emblazoned upon it, or
standing flank deep amidst its ripples; the chickens might be going
to roost among the althea bushes; the lazy old dogs were astir on the
porch. She could picture her brothers at work about the barn; most often
a white-haired man who walked with a stick--alack! she did not fancy how
feebly, nor that his white hair had grown long and venerable, and tossed
in the breeze. "Ef he would jes lemme kem fur one haff'n hour!" she
would cry.

But all her griefs were bewept on the crag, that there might be no tears
to distress the tenderhearted Absalom when she should return to the
house.

The election of Squire Quimbey was a sad blow to the arrogant spirit of
the Kittredges. They had easily accustomed themselves to ascendency, and
they hotly resented the fact that fate had forborne the opportunity to
hit Joel Quimbey when he was down. They had used their utmost influence
to defeat him i