mer and mallet, that had seemed
so merry when punctuated now and then by the strains of her voice,
became a mere humdrum rapping of wood upon wood and iron upon iron. He
had sought work in South Carolina with the hope that he might see her.
He had satisfied this hope, and had tried in vain to do her a service;
but Fate had been against her; her castle of cards had come tumbling
down. He felt that her sorrow had brought her nearer to him. The
distance between them depended very much upon their way of looking at
things. He knew that her experience had dragged her through the valley
of humiliation. His unselfish devotion had reacted to refine and
elevate his own spirit. When he heard the suggestion, after her second
departure, that she might marry Wain, he could not but compare himself
with this new aspirant. He, Frank, was a man, an honest man--a better
man than the shifty scoundrel with whom she had ridden away. She was
but a woman, the best and sweetest and loveliest of all women, but yet
a woman. After a few short years of happiness or sorrow,--little of
joy, perhaps, and much of sadness, which had begun already,--they would
both be food for worms. White people, with a deeper wisdom perhaps
than they used in their own case, regarded Rena and himself as very
much alike. They were certainly both made by the same God, in much the
same physical and mental mould; they breathed the same air, ate the
same food, spoke the same speech, loved and hated, laughed and cried,
lived and would die, the same. If God had meant to rear any impassable
barrier between people of contrasting complexions, why did He not
express the prohibition as He had done between other orders of creation?

When Rena had departed for Sampson County, Frank had reconciled himself
to her absence by the hope of her speedy return. He often stepped
across the street to talk to Mis' Molly about her. Several letters had
passed between mother and daughter, and in response to Frank's
inquiries his neighbor uniformly stated that Rena was well and doing
well, and sent her love to all inquiring friends. But Frank observed
that Mis' Molly, when pressed as to the date of Rena's return, grew
more and more indefinite; and finally the mother, in a burst of
confidential friendship, told Frank of all her hopes with reference to
the stranger from down the country.

"Yas, Frank," she concluded, "it'll be her own fault ef she don't
become a lady of proputty, fer Mr.