er the letter. She took it, and broke the seal carelessly.

"Oh," she said, "it's only from Mr. Lowndes. I wonder what he wishes
now."

Every moment of her reading was for me an agony, and she read slowly.
The last words she spoke aloud:--

"'If you do not wish the lad, send him to me, as Kate is very fond of
him.' So Kate is very fond of him," she repeated. And handing the
letter to Mr. Mason, she added, "Tell him, Parson."

The words burned into my soul and seared it. And to this day I tremble
with anger as I think of them. The scene comes before me: the sky, the
darkened portico, and Nicholas running after his mother crying: "Oh,
mamma, how could you! How could you!"

Mr. Mason bent over me in compassion, and smoothed my hair.

"David," said he, in a thick voice, "you are a brave boy, David. You
will need all your courage now, my son. May God keep your nature sweet!"

He led me gently into the arbor and told me how, under Captain Baskin,
the detachment had been ambushed by the Cherokees; and how my father,
with Ensign Calhoun and another, had been killed, fighting bravely. The
rest of the company had cut their way through and reached the settlements
after terrible hardships.

I was left an orphan.

I shall not dwell here on the bitterness of those moments. We have all
known sorrows in our lives,--great sorrows. The clergyman was a wise
man, and did not strive to comfort me with words. But he sat there under
the leaves with his arm about me until a blinding bolt split the
blackness of the sky and the thunder rent our ears, and a Caribbean storm
broke over Temple Bow with all the fury of the tropics. Then he led me
through the drenching rain into the house, nor heeded the wet himself on
his Sunday coat.

A great anger stayed me in my sorrow. I would no longer tarry under Mrs.
Temple's roof, though the world without were a sea or a desert. The one
resolution to escape rose stronger and stronger within me, and I
determined neither to eat nor sleep until I had got away. The thought of
leaving Nick was heavy indeed; and when he ran to me in the dark hall and
threw his arms around me, it needed all my strength to keep from crying
aloud.

"Davy," he said passionately, "Davy, you mustn't mind what she says. She
never means anything she says--she never cares for anything save her
pleasure. You and I will stay here until we are old enough to run away
to Kentucky. Davy! Answer me, Davy!"

I could not, try as I wou