a constant stream of talk, but as he
stammered frightfully the most Mr. Mason could understand was that Miss
Dory was a dandy, ole Miss 'onery, whatever that might mean, and Jake a
big head, who thought he knew everything because he was free and could
read.

The next day was Sunday, and Mr. Mason took for the subject of his
remarks in the parlor of the hotel the story of Lazarus and Dives, and
every time he spoke of Dives receiving his good things in life, he
thought of the man whom the landlord had designated a "Northern cuss";
and every time he spoke of Lazarus, he thought of poor little Dory and
that humble grave in the sands of the palmetto clearing.

It was covered before night with young dwarf palmettoes, which Mandy Ann
laid upon it with a thought that they would keep her young mistress
cool. All through the day she had restrained her feelings, because Jake
told her that was the way to do.

"Seems ef I should bust," she said to herself more than once, and when
at last the day was over, and both ole Miss and the little girl were
asleep, she stole out to the newly made grave, and lying down upon it
among the palmettoes she cried bitterly, "Oh, Miss Dory, Miss Dory, kin
you har me? It's Mandy Ann, an' I'm so sorry you're dead, an' sorry I
was so bad sometimes. I have tried to be better lately, sense I got
growed. Now, hain't I, an' I hain't tole many lies, nor tached a thing
sense I took that bill from him. _Cuss_ him, wharever he is! Cuss him
to-night, ef he's alive; an' ef his bed is soff' as wool, doan let him
sleep for thinkin' of Miss Dory. Doan let him ever know peace of min'
till he owns the 'ittle girl; though, dear Lawd, what should we do
without her--me an' Jake?"

Mandy Ann was on her knees now, with her hands uplifted, as she prayed
for _cusses_ on the man who had wrought such harm to her mistress. When
the prayer was finished she fell on her face again and sobbed, "Miss
Dory, Miss Dory, I must go in now an' see to 'ittle chile, but I hates
to leave you hyar alone in de san'. Does you know you's got on my ring?
I gin it to you, an' ole granny Thomas 'gin in' when she seed it, an'
said you mus' be good. I'se mighty glad I gin it to you. 'Twas all I had
to give, an' it will tell 'em whar you've gone that you was good."

There was a dampness in the air that night, and Mandy Ann felt it as she
rose from the grave, and brushed bits of palmetto from her dress and
hair. But she did not mind it, and as she