ut united to form a
single if not an entirely harmonious whole. To her sensitive spirit
to-day was born of yesterday, to-morrow would be but the offspring of
to day.

One day, along toward noon, her mother received a visit from Mary B.
Pettifoot, a second cousin, who lived on Back Street, only a short
distance from the house behind the cedars. Rena had gone out, so that
the visitor found Mis' Molly alone.

"I heared you say, Cousin Molly," said Mary B. (no one ever knew what
the B. in Mary's name stood for,--it was a mere ornamental flourish),
"that Rena was talkin' 'bout teachin' school. I've got a good chance
fer her, ef she keers ter take it. My cousin Jeff Wain 'rived in town
this mo'nin', f'm 'way down in Sampson County, ter git a teacher fer
the nigger school in his deestric'. I s'pose he mought 'a' got one f'm
'roun' Newbern, er Goldsboro, er some er them places eas', but he
'lowed he'd like to visit some er his kin an' ole frien's, an' so kill
two birds with one stone."

"I seed a strange mulatter man, with a bay hoss an' a new buggy,
drivin' by here this mo'nin' early, from down to'ds the river,"
rejoined Mis' Molly. "I wonder if that wuz him?"

"Did he have on a linen duster?" asked Mary B.

"Yas, an' 'peared to be a very well sot up man," replied Mis' Molly,
"'bout thirty-five years old, I should reckon."

"That wuz him," assented Mary B. "He's got a fine hoss an' buggy, an'
a gol' watch an' chain, an' a big plantation, an' lots er hosses an'
mules an' cows an' hawgs. He raise' fifty bales er cotton las' year,
an' he's be'n ter the legislatur'."

"My gracious!" exclaimed Mis' Molly, struck with awe at this catalogue
of the stranger's possessions--he was evidently worth more than a great
many "rich" white people,--all white people in North Carolina in those
days were either "rich" or "poor," the distinction being one of caste
rather than of wealth. "Is he married?" she inquired with interest?

"No,--single. You mought 'low it was quare that he should n' be
married at his age; but he was crossed in love oncet,"--Mary B. heaved
a self-conscious sigh,--"an' has stayed single ever sence. That wuz
ten years ago, but as some husban's is long-lived, an' there ain' no
mo' chance fer 'im now than there wuz then, I reckon some nice gal
mought stan' a good show er ketchin' 'im, ef she'd play her kyards
right."

To Mis' Molly this was news of considerable importance. She had not
thought a great deal