r Aunt Cynthy must be upwards of
seventy. Steve is fifty if he is a day. How do you suppose she could
control him, even if she knew of his intention, which is doubtful."

"She nevah would trounce that rascal, even in his youngest days,"
asserted Nelse, earnestly; "and as the 'bush is bent the tree's
declined.' I use to kote that scripper to her many's the day, but how
much good it do to plant cotton seed on stony groun' or sow rice on
the high lan'? Jes' that much good scripper words done Cynthy, an' no
more."

His tone betrayed a sorrowful but impersonal regret over the
refractory Cynthia, and their joint offspring. Evilena laughed.

"Where did you get so well acquainted with the scripture, Nelse?" she
asked. "I know you never did learn it from your beloved old Mahs Duke
Loring. I want you to tell this gentleman all about the old racing
days. This is Dr. Delaven (Nelse made a profound bow). He has seen
great races abroad and hunted foxes in Ireland. I want you to tell him
of the bear hunts, and the horses you used to ride, and how you rode
for freedom. The race was so important, Dr. Delaven, that Marmaduke
Loring promised Nelse his freedom if he won it, and he had been
offered three thousand, five hundred dollars for Nelse, more than
once."

"Nevah was worth as much to myself as I was to Mahs Duke," said Nelse,
shaking his head. "I tell yo' true, freedom was a sure enough hoodoo,
far as I was concerned; nevah seemed to get so much out o' the horses
after I was my own man; nevah seemed to see so much money as I owned
befo', an' every plum thing I 'vested in was a failure from the start;
there was that gal o' Mahs Masterson's--that there Cynthy--"

The old man's garrulity was checked by the noiseless entrance of
Margeret. He gave a distinct start as he saw her.

"I--I s'lute yo', Miss Retta," he said, sweeping his cap along the
floor and bowing from where he sat. She glanced at him, bent her head
slightly in acknowledgment, but did not address him.

"Miss Loring asks to see you in the dining room, Mistress Nesbitt,"
she said softly; then drawing a blind where the sun was too glaring,
and opening another that the breeze might be more apparent, she passed
silently out.

The old man never spoke until she disappeared.

"My king!--she get mo' ghost-like every yeah, that Retta," he said,
while Evilena gathered up the ball of stocking yard and wound it for
Mrs. Nesbitt; "only the eyes o' that woman would tell a body