Elrod.

"There was some people that expected a heap o' Dick after he married,
but I never did. If a man can't be faithful to a woman before he
marries her, he ain't likely to be faithful after he marries her. And
shore enough the shine wasn't off o' Annie's weddin' clothes before
Dick was back to his old ways, drinkin' and carryin' on with the women
same as ever, and the first thing we knew, him and Annie had a big
quarrel, and Old Man Bob had ordered him off the place. However, they
made it up and went over to the old Squire's to live, and things went
on well enough till Annie's baby was born. Dick had set his heart on
havin' a boy, but it turned out a girl, and as soon as they told him,
he never even asked how Annie was, but jest went out to the stable and
saddled his horse and galloped off, and nobody seen him for two days.
He needn't 'a' took on so, for the pore little thing didn't live but a
week. Annie had convulsions over Dick's leavin' her that way, and the
doctor said that was what killed the child. Annie never was the same
after this. She grieved for her child and lost her good looks, and
when she lost them, she lost Dick. It wasn't long before Dick was
livin' with his father, and she with hers. At last he went out West;
and in less than three years Annie died; and a good thing she did, for
a more soured, disappointed woman couldn't 'a' been found anywhere.

"Well, all this time Milly Baker's baby was growin' in grace, you
might say. And a finer child never was born. Milly had named him
Richard, and nature had wrote his father's name all over him. He was
the livin' image of Dick, all but the look in his eyes; that was
Milly's. Milly worshiped him, and there was few children raised any
carefuler and better than Milly Baker's boy; that was what we always
called him. Milly was nothin' but a child herself when he was born,
but all at once she appeared to turn to a woman; acted like one and
looked like one. It ain't time, honey, that makes people old; it's
experience. Some folks never git over bein' children, and some never
has any childhood; and pore little Milly's was cut short by trouble.
If she felt ashamed of herself or the child, nobody ever knew it. I
never could tell whether it was lack of sense, or whether she jest
looked at things different from the rest of us; but to see her walk in
church holding little Richard by the hand, nobody ever would 'a'
thought but what she was a lawful wife. No woman could '