Red Rock: A Chronicle of Reconstruction

by Thomas Nelson Page

  CHAPTER XXIX

  MRS. WELCH ENTERS THE HARVEST

  Mrs. Welch had not been in the County forty-eight hours before she wasquite satisfied that this was the field for her work, and that she wasthe very laborer for this field.

  In three days the signs of her occupation and energy were unmistakable.Every room in the little cottage was scoured afresh, and things werechanged within the old house, and were undergoing a change without,which would have astonished the departed Stampers.

  A gang of darkies, of all ages and sizes, was engaged by her orcollected somehow (perhaps, no one knew just how, unless Hiram, whodistributed the contents of the boxes, knew), who, Andy Stampersaid, looked like harvesters and got harvest-wages. The rooms wereturned inside out, the yard was cleared up, the fences repaired andwhitewashed, and the chambers were papered or painted of a dark maroonor other rich color, then the fashion, by Doan, whom Hiram Still sentover for the purpose—Mrs. Welch not only superintending actively,but showing, with real skill, how it ought to be done; for one ofthe lady’s maxims was, “What your hands find to do, do with all yourmight.” Ruth, during the repairs, took occasion to pull out carefullythe nail on which Andy had told her his father used to hang his watch,and sent it wrapt in a neat little parcel to Andy, with a note sayinghow much pleasure she had in sending it. She did not dream that by thislittle act she was making one of the best friends of her life. SergeantStamper drove the nail in a strip beside his own bed. And as he struckthe last blow he turned to his wife, who with sympathetic eyes wasstanding by, and said:

  “Delia, if I ever fail to do what that young lady asks me, I hope Godwill drive the nails in my coffin next day.”

  On the arrival of Mrs. Welch, there was a repetition of those visits ofmingled friendliness and curiosity which had been paid Major Welch andMiss Ruth. And as Major Welch and Ruth formed their opinions, so now,Mrs. Welch formed hers. She prided herself on her reasoning faculty.She repudiated the idea that woman’s intuition was a substitute forman’s reason. She was not going to hang on any such wretched makeshift.She judged men and things precisely as men did, she said, and the onlydifference was that she was quicker than most men.

  Dr. Cary and Mrs. Cary called with Miss Thomasia and Blair; andGeneral Legaie and Jacquelin Gray and Steve Allen rode up togetherone afternoon. The two former paid only a short visit, but CaptainAllen stayed to tea. Steve treated her with that mingled deferenceand freedom which, in just the right proportion, make—at least, in ayoung and handsome man—the most charming manners. He even dared totease Mrs. Welch on the serious sentiments she expressed, and on herappearance that day in the wagon, a liberty that neither Ruth nor MajorWelch ever ventured to take; and to Ruth’s exceeding surprise, hermother, so far from resenting it, actually appeared to like it. As forRuth, her mother surprised a look of real delight in her eyes.

  It gave her food for thought. “That young man talked to me; but helooked at Ruth. What does it mean? It might mean one thing—yes, itmight mean that? But it is impossible!” She put the idea aside as tooabsurd to consider. However, she determined to be on her guard.

  Mrs. Welch had no time to spend in the sort of hospitality practisedby her neighbors. The idea of going over to a neighbor’s to “spendthe day,” as most of the invitations she received ran, or of havingthem come and “spend the day” with her as they did with others, wasintolerable. It might have done, she held, for an archaic state ofsociety, but it was just this terrible waste of time that made thepeople about her what she saw them: indolent, and shiftless and poor.She had “work to do,” and she “meant to do it.” So, having calledformally at Dr. Cary’s, Miss Gray’s, and the other places, the ladiesfrom which had called on her, she declined further invitations andbegan her “work.” She wrote to her Society back at home, that asshe looked around her spirit groaned within her. The harvest wasripe—already too ripe, and the over-ripened wheat was falling, day byday, to the earth and being trampled in the ground. She wrote also herimpressions of her new neighbors. She was charmed with Miss Thomasiaand the General. The former reminded her of her grandmother, whom sheremembered as a white-haired old lady knitting in her arm-chair, andthe General was an old French fieldmarshal, of the time of Bayard orSidney, who had strayed into this century, and who would not surpriseher by appearing in armor with a sleeve around his helmet, “funny,dear, old fossil that he is.” She was pleased with Miss Cary and theDoctor, though the former appeared to have rather too antiquatedviews of life, and the Doctor was unpractical to the last degree.They were all densely prejudiced; but that she did not in the leastmind; they were also universally shiftless, but she had hope. Theymust be enlightened and aided (Mrs. Welch was conscious of a feelingof virtuous charitableness when she penned this. It was going fartherthan she had ever deemed it possible she could go). When it came to thequestion of the poor blacks, the whites were all alike. They had notthe least idea of their duty to them: even those she had mentioned asthe most enlightened, regarded them yet as only so many chattels, asstill slaves. Finally, she wrote, she could not but admit that nothingbut kindness had been shown to themselves since their arrival. Onecould not but appreciate such cordiality, even if it were the resultof mere impulse rather than of steady principle. But Mr. Still, theUnion man of whom the Society knew, had intimated that it was only aconcerted effort to blind them to the true state of affairs, and thatif they exhibited any independence it would soon change. As to this sheshould be watchful. And she appealed for help.

  Such was the substance of the first letter that Mrs. Welch wrote backto her old Reform and Help Society at home, which was regarded by someof her friends as a roseate-colored statement of the case. It waseven intimated that it contained evidence that Mrs. Welch was alreadysuccumbing to the very influence she repudiated.

  “But they all do it. I never knew anyone go down there who did not atonce abandon all principles and fall a victim to the influences ofthose people,” declared Mrs. Bolter, who, now that Mrs. Welch had left,represented the earnest and most active wing of the society.

  “May not that prove that perhaps there is something on their side thatwe do not understand?” hazarded one of the young ladies of the society,Mrs. Clough, who, as a daughter of Senator Rockfield, was privileged toexpress views.

  “Not at all,” declared Mrs. Bolter. “I knew that Major Welch and Ruthwere both hopelessly weak; but I confess I did think better things ofMrs. Welch.”

  “Do you know, now that she has gone, I confess that I always did thinkRuth Welch had more sense—more practical sense I mean, than hermother,” said Mrs. Clough.

  “Of course, you do,” replied the older lady. Mrs. Clough colored.

  “And my husband thinks so, too.”

  “Oh! if your husband thinks so—of course!” Mrs. Bolter lookedsympathetic and superior. “I supposed _he_ thought so.” The youngerlady colored deeply.

  “And my sister thinks so,” she added, with dignity.

  “Oh! indeed! I knew she thought some of the younger members of theconnection very attractive,” said Mrs. Bolter.

  Mrs. Clough rose, and, with a bow, left the assembly.

  She was comforted that evening by hearing her husband not only commendher views warmly, but abuse Mrs. Bolter as a “stuck-up and ill-bredwoman, as vain and vulgar as Bolter himself,” whom he would not trustaround the corner.

  “If she is that now, what will she be after she marries her daughter toCaptain Middleton?” Mrs. Clough said. “She’s had him in tow ever sincehe came home a week ago. I do think it is vulgar, the way some womenrun after men for their daughters nowadays. She has not given that poorman an hour’s rest since he landed.”

  “I don’t believe there’s anything in that. Larry would not marry one ofthat family. He knows Bolter too well. I always thought he would endby marrying Ruth Welch, and he told me to-day at the club he was goingSouth.”

  “Oh! all you men always were silly about Ruth Welch. You all thoughtshe was the most beautiful creature in the world,” said litt
le Mrs.Clough, with an air not wholly reconcilable with her attitude at theAid Society meeting just recorded.

  “No, I know one man who made one exception,” said her husband leaningover and kissing her, and thereupon, as is the way with lovers, began“new matter.”

  “Captain Middleton is not going South,” said Mrs. Clough, suddenly.“That is, he’s going south; but not to the South.”

  “He is not! Why, he told me he was.”

  “Well, he’s not. He’s going to Washington.” She spoke oracularly.

  “What’s he going there about? About that old affair? You seem to knowhis plans better than he does. I see by the papers it’s up again. Orabout that railroad scheme Bolter’s working at? He’s down there now.Larry said he had to see the Senator.”

  “No, about a new affair—Larry Middleton is in love with Alice,” saidMrs. Clough, with entire unconsciousness of the singularity of hersudden and unexpected bouleversement. Her husband turned round on herin blank amazement.

  “Wha-at!” He strung the word out in his surprise.

  “Yes—you men are so blind. He’s in love with Alice; was with herabroad and came home to see her.” She was suddenly interested in a verysmall baby-garment she was sewing on.

  “Why, you just said he was in love with Ruth Welch!”

  “Did I?” she asked, quietly, as calm as a May morning, and apparentlywith perfect indifference.

  “—And you said Mrs. Bolter would catch him for her loud, sportydaughter!”

  “Oh! I believe I did.” She was turning a hem. “One, two, three,” shecounted. “Well, she won’t get him.” She was interested only in thebaby-garment.

  “Are they engaged?”

  “Not yet—quite—but almost—Will be in a week. Isn’t that a darling?”She held up the garment, and spanned it with her pink fingers.

  “Well, you women are curious,” said her husband, almost with a gasp.“Here you have been abusing Ruth Welch and Mrs. Bolter and every womanLarry Middleton knew in the world, and all the time he was dead in lovewith your own sister!”

  “Umhm!” She looked up and nodded brightly, then broke into a laugh.“And you think that’s curious?”

  “Well, I’m glad of it. Larry’s a good fellow. Now I see it all. Ithought he was uncommonly glad to see me to-day, and when I undertookto chaff him a little about Ruth Welch, looked rather red and silly.”

  “You didn’t!” said his wife, aghast. “What in the world——!”

  “Oh! I’ll make it all right the next time I see him. How was I toknow? I’ll write to Alice and congratulate her.”

  “Indeed, you’ll not. Not a word. You’ll ruin everything!”

  “Why?”

  “Why, he hasn’t spoken yet——”

  “Why, you just said—” He lapsed into reflection.

  “Oh! You men are so stupid!” sighed Mrs. Clough. “But come, promise me.”

  And he promised—as we all do—always.

  * * * * *

  Having despatched her appeal, Mrs. Welch did not waste time waitingfor a response, but was as good as her word and, like an energeticsoul, without waiting a day, sickle in hand, entered the field alone.Her first step was what she termed “informing herself.” She always“informed herself” about things; it was one of the secrets of hersuccess, she said.

  Her first visit on this tour of inspection was to the Bend. Sheselected this as the primary object of her visitation, because sheunderstood it was the worst place in the community, and she proposedto go at once to the very bottom. Dr. Cary had spoken of it as “afestering spot”; General Legaie had referred to it as “a den ofiniquity.” Well, if it were a festering sore it ought to be treated;if it were a den it ought to be opened to the light, she declared. Shefound it worse than she had expected; but this did not deter her. Sheforthwith set to work to build a school-house near the Bend, and sentfor a woman to come down and take charge of it.

  She was no little surprised one day when she called at a cabin whereshe had been told a woman was ill, to have the door opened by Mrs.Cary. Mrs. Cary invited her in and thanked her for calling, quite asif she owned the house. Mrs. Welch had her first gleam of doubt as towhether she had stated the case to her Society with entire correctness.She observed that the woman’s sheets were old and patched, and shesaid she would have her Society make new ones. How could she know thatMaria’s old mistress had just brought her these and that she and Blairhad mended them with their own hands?

  It does not require an earthquake to start talk in a ruralcommunity—and Mrs. Welch had not been in her new home a month, or, forthat matter, a week, before she was the most talked-of woman in theCounty.

  Notwithstanding Hiram Still’s desire to keep secret the fact that hewas trying to sell a part of Red Rock to Major Welch, it was soonrumored around that Major Welch was to buy the Stamper place and aconsiderable part of the old Gray estate. Leech, it was reported, hadcome up from town, given a clean title and prepared a deed which wasto be delivered on a certain day. Allowing for exaggerations, it isastonishing how accurate the bureau of advanced rumor often is.

  Steve Allen and Jacquelin Gray held sundry conferences in the clerk’soffice, with the papers in Still’s old suit before them, and it gotabroad that they were not going to permit the sale.

  The day before that set by this exact agency for the final consummationof the purchase, a letter was brought for Major Welch. The messengerwho brought it was a handsome, spirited-looking boy of seventeen oreighteen, evidently a gentleman’s son. Major Welch was away from home;but Ruth happened to be in the yard when the boy rode up. He wasmounted on a handsome bay with white feet, which Ruth recognized asthat which Captain Allen rode. Ruth loved a fine horse, and she wentup to him. As she approached, the boy sprang to the ground and tookoff his hat with a manner so like Captain Allen’s that Ruth smiled toherself.

  “Is—is Major Welch at home?” he asked. He had pulled a paper from hispocket and was blushing with a boy’s embarrassment.

  Ruth said her father was not at home, but explained that she wouldtake any letter for him—or—would not he tie his horse and come in andwait for her father?

  This invitation quite overthrew the little structure of assurance theboy had built up, and he was thrown into such a state of confusion thatRuth’s heart went out to him.

  He thanked her; but he was afraid his horse would not stand tied. Hewas stuffing the paper back in his pocket, hardly aware of what he wasdoing.

  Ruth was sure the horse would stand; she had seen him tied; but sherespected the boy’s confusion, and offered again to take the letter forher father. He gave it to her apparently with reluctance. His cousin,Steve Allen, had told him to give it to Major Welch himself, he halfstammered.

  “Well, I am his daughter, Miss Welch,” Ruth said, “and you can tellCaptain Allen that I said I would certainly deliver it to my father.Won’t you tell me who you are?” she asked, smiling.

  “I’m Rupert Gray, Jacquelin Gray’s brother.”

  “Oh! You have been off at school?”

  “Yes’m. Jacquelin would make me go, but I’ve come back for good, now.He says I needn’t go any more. He hasn’t got anything to send me anymore, anyhow.” This in a very cheery tone. He was partly recoveringfrom his embarrassment. “Steve wanted to send me to college, but Iwon’t go.”

  “You won’t? Why not?”

  “Steve hasn’t got any money to send me to college. Besides, theyjust want to get me away from here—I know ’em—and I won’t go.”(With a boy’s confidingness.) “They’re afraid I’ll get—” He stoppedshort.—“But I’m not afraid. Just let ’em try.” He paused, his faceflushed with excitement, and looked straight at her. He evidentlywanted to say something else to her, and she smiled encouragingly.

  “You tell your father not to have anything to do with that Still andthat man Leech.” His tone was a mixture of sincerity and persuasiveness.

  “Why?” Ruth smiled.

  “Because—o
ne’s a carpet-bagger and t’other a scalawag.”

  “Why, we are carpet-baggers, too.”

  “Well—yes—but—. Steve he says so, too. And he don’t want you to getmixed up with ’em. That’s the reason.” His embarrassment returned for amoment.

  “Oh! Captain Allen says so? I’m very much obliged to him, I’m sure.”Ruth laughed, but her form straightened and her color deepened.

  “No, no, not that way. Steve is a dandy. And so is Jacquelin. He’s justas good as Steve. Never was anybody like Jacquelin. You ought to knowhim. That fellow Leech imprisoned him. But I knocked him down—I coulddie for Jacquelin—at least, I think I could. That’s the reason I hate’em so!” he broke out, vehemently. “And I don’t want you to get mixedup with ’em. You aren’t like them. You are more like us.”

  Ruth smiled at the ingenuousness of this compliment.

  “And you tell your father, won’t you?” he repeated. “Good-evening.”He held out his hand, shook hers, sprang on his horse, and, makingher a flourishing bow, galloped away, evidently very proud of hishorsemanship.

  He left Ruth with a pleasant feeling round her heart, which she couldscarcely have accounted for. She wondered what it was that his brotherand Captain Allen were afraid the boy would do.

  As for Rupert, when he returned to Captain Allen he was so full of MissWelch that Steve declared he was in love with her, and guilefully drewhim on to talk of her and tell, over and over, every detail of hisinterview. The charge of being in love the boy denied, of course, butfrom that time Ruth, without knowing it, had the truest blessing a girlcan have—the ingenuous devotion of a young boy’s heart.

  When her father came home the current of Ruth’s thoughts was changed.

  The letter Rupert had brought contained a paper, or rather two papers,addressed to Major Welch. One was a formal notice to him that the titleby which Still held Red Rock was fraudulent and invalid, and that hewould buy at his peril, as a suit would be brought to rip up the wholematter and set aside the deed under which Still held. The paper wassigned by Jacquelin Gray and witnessed by Stevenson Allen as counsel,in whose handwriting it was. In addition to the formal notice, herewas a note to Major Welch from Captain Allen, in which he stated thathaving heard the rumor that Major Welch was contemplating buying theplace in question, he felt it his duty to let him know at once thatsuch a step would involve him in a lawsuit, and that possibly it mightbe very unpleasant for him.

  This letter was a bombshell.

  Mrs. Welch took it not as a legal notice, but as a declaration of war,and when that gage was flung down she was ready to accept it. She cameof a stock equally prompt to be martyrs or fighters. She urged MajorWelch to reply plainly at once. It was just a part of the persecutionall loyal people had to go through. Let them see that they were notafraid. Major Welch was for moving a little deliberately. He shouldcertainly not be bullied into receding from his purchase by anythingof this kind, but he would act prudently. He would look again into thematter and see if there was any foundation for the charge.

  Ruth rallied to the side of her mother and father, and felt as angrywith Mr. Allen and everyone else concerned in the matter as it was inthe nature of her kind heart to be.

  Major Welch’s investigation did not proceed exactly on the lineson which he would have acted at home. He had to rely on the men heemployed. Both Still and Leech insisted that the notice given wasmerely an attempt to bully him. They further furnished him an abstractof the title, which showed it to be perfectly clear and regular, andwhen Major Welch applied in person to the old clerk, he corroboratedthis and certified that at that time no cloud was on the title.

  He was, however, by no means as gracious toward Major Welch as he hadbeen the first time he saw him—was, on the contrary, rather short inhis manner, and, that gentleman thought, almost regretted to have togive the certificate.

  “Yes, it’s all clear to date as far as the records show,” he said,with careful limitation, in reply to a request from Major Welch for acertificate,” but if you’ll take my advice——”

  Still, who was sitting near, wriggled slightly in his chair.

  Major Welch had been a little exasperated. “My dear sir, I shouldbe very glad to take your advice generally, but this is a matter ofprivate business between this gentle——between Mr. Still and myself,and I must be allowed to act on my own judgment. What I want is notadvice, but a certificate of the state of those titles.”

  A change came over the old clerk’s countenance. He bowed stiffly. “Allright, sir; I reckon you know your own business,” he said, dryly, andhe made out the certificate and handed it to Major Welch almost grimly.

  Major Welch glanced at it and turned to Still.

  “You can have your deeds prepared, Mr. Still. I am going to townto-morrow and shall be ready to pay over the money on my return.”He spoke in a tone for the clerk to hear and intended to show hisresolution.

  Still followed him out and suggested that he’d as lieve give him thedeeds to put to record then, and he could pay him when he came back.He was always willing to take a gentleman’s word. This, however, MajorWelch would not consent to.

  Still stayed with Major Welch all the rest of the day and returnedhome with him: a fellowship which, though somewhat irksome to theMajor, he tolerated, because Still, half-jestingly, half-seriously,explained that somehow he “felt sort of safer” when he was with theMajor.

  Two or three days afterward Major Welch, having returned from thecapital, paid Still the money and took his deed; and it was dulyrecorded.

  The interview in the clerk’s office, in which Major Welch had declinedto hear the old clerk’s advice, was reported by Mr. Dockett to SteveAllen and Jacquelin Gray that same evening. The only way to save theplace, they agreed, was to institute their proceedings and file anotice of a pending suit, or, as the lawyers call it, a _lis pendens_.

  “He’ll hardly be big enough fool to fly in the face of that,” said Mr.Dockett.

  So the very next day a suit was docketed and a _lis pendens_ filed,giving notice that the title to the lands was in question.

  The summonses were delivered to the sheriff, Mr. James Sherwood; butthis was the day Major Welch spent in the city, and when the sheriffhanded the summons to Still and showed the one he had for Major Welch,Still took it from him, saying he would serve it for him.

  Thus it happened that when Major Welch paid down the money he was inignorance that two suits had already been instituted to declare thetitle in Still fraudulent.

  Meantime, copies of Mrs. Welch’s letter to her friends had come back tothe County, and the effect was instantaneous.

  When Mrs. Welch wrote the letter describing her new home andsurroundings, she gave, as has been said, what she considered a veryfavorable account of her neighbors. She had not written the letter forpublication, yet, when the zeal of her friends gave it to the public,she was sensible of a feeling of gratified pride. There were in ita number of phrases which, as she looked at them in cold print, shewould in a milder mood have softened; but she consoled herself with thereflection that the individuals referred to in the letter would neversee it. Alas! for the vain trust of those who rely on their obscurityto hide their indiscretions. The _Censor_ was as well known, even ifnot so extensively known, in the old County as in Mrs. Welch’s formerhome. It had long been known as Leech’s organ, and was taken by morethan one of the Red Rock residents.

  When the issue containing Mrs. Welch’s letter first appeared it raiseda breeze. The neighborhood was deeply stirred and, what appearedmost curious to Mrs. Welch was, that what gave most offence, washer reference to individuals which she had intended to be rathercomplimentary. She made up her mind to face boldly the commotion shehad raised and to bear with fortitude whatever it might bring. Shedid not know that it was her patronizing attitude that gave the mostserious offence.

  “I don’t mind her attack on us, but blame her impudent, patronizingair,” declared the little General—“General Fossil,” as Steve calledhim—“and to thi
nk that I should have put myself out to be especiallycivil to her! Steve, you are so fond of Northern cherries, I shalllet you do the civilities for us both hereafter.” To the General’ssurprise, Steve actually reddened.

  The next time Mrs. Welch met her neighbors she was conscious of thedifference in their bearing toward her. It was at old St. Ann’s. Whenshe had been there before, the whole congregation had thronged abouther with warm greetings and friendly words. Now there was a markedchange. Though Steve Allen and Rupert and Blair, and a few others cameup and spoke to her, the rest of the congregation contented themselveswith returning her bows coldly from a distance, and several ladies, shewas sure, studiously avoided her greeting.

  “Well, sir, I knew she was a oner as soon as I lay my eye ’pon her,”said Andy Stamper to a group of his friends in the court-yard at thecounty seat the next court day, “but I didn’t know she was goin’ totake that tack. She’s done fixed up the place till you wouldn’t know itfrom a town place. She has painted them old rooms so black that Doanhad to git a candle to see how to do it, and I was born in one of ’em.I told her I never heard o’ paintin’ nothin’ that black befo’ but acoffin, but she said it was her favorite color.”

  “’Pears like that’s so too, Sergeant,” laughed someone. “Is Hiram theremuch?”

  “Oh! he goes there; but you know I don’t think she likes him; and it’smy opinion that Hiram he’s afeard of her as he is of Jacquelin Gray. Hetalks that soft way o’ hisn aroun’ her which he uses when he’s afearedo’ anyone. She’s gin them niggers the best clo’es you ever see—coatsbetter then me or you or anyone aroun’ heah has seen since the war.What’s curious to me is that though she don’t seem to like niggers andgit along with ’em easy-like and nat’ral as we all do, in another wayshe seems to kind o’ want to like ’em. It reminds me of takin’ physic:she takes ’em with a sort o’ gulp, but wants to take ’em and wants tomake everybody else do it.

  “Now she’s been over yonder to the Bend and got ’em all stirred up,diggin’ dreens and whitewashin’ and cuttin’ poles for crosslay.”

  “She’ll be tryin’ to whitewash them,” said one of his auditors.

  “Well, by Jingo! if she sets her mind to it she’ll make it stick,” saidAndy.” What gits me is the way she ain’t got some’n better to work on.”

  * * * * *

  Report said that Jacquelin was blossoming into a fine young lawyer.Steve Allen declared that his practice was doubling under Jacquelin’sdevotion to the work—which was very well, as Steve, whether fromcontrariness or some other motive, was becoming a somewhat frequentvisitor at Major Welch’s, these days.

  The General asserted that if Jacquelin stuck to his office and studiedas assiduously as he was doing, he would be the most learned lawyerin the State. “But he’ll kill himself if he does not stop it. Why, Ican see the difference in him already,” he declared to Miss Thomasia,solicitously. Miss Thomasia herself had seen the change in Jacquelin’sappearance since his return home. He was growing thin again, and, ifnot pale, was at least losing that ruddy hue of health which he hadhad on his arrival, and she expostulated with him, and tried even toget Blair to do the same; for Blair always had great influence withhim, she told her. Blair, however, pooh-poohed the matter and said,indifferently, that she could not see any difference in him and thoughthe looked very well. Miss Thomasia shook her head. Blair did not use tobe so hard-hearted.

  But, however this was, Jacquelin did not alter his course. The negroeshad become so unruly, that, as Rupert was often away from home, andhis aunt was left alone, he came home every night, though it was oftenlate before he arrived; but early in the morning he returned to theCourt-house and spent the day there in his office, rarely accepting aninvitation or taking any holiday.

  When he and Blair met, which they did sometimes unavoidably, there wasa return of the old constraint that had existed before he went away,and even with Steve he appeared to be growing silent and self-absorbed.

  Blair had become the mainstay of her family. Unconsciously she hadslipped into the position where she was the prop on which both herfather and mother leaned. She taught her little colored school, and athome was always busy about something. She vied with Mrs. Andy Stamperin raising chickens, and with Miss Thomasia in raising violets. Underher skilful management, the little cottage amid its wilderness offruit-trees, in which old Mr. and Mrs. Bellows had lived, became arose-bower, and the fruit-trees became an orchard with its feet buriedin clover. Her father said of her that she was a perpetual reproductionof the miracle of the creation—that she created the sun and followedit with all the plants and herbs after their kind.

  Yet, with all these duties, Blair found time to run over to see MissThomasia almost every day or two; at first shyly and at rare intervals,but, after she found that Jacquelin was always at his office, oftenerand more freely. She always declared that a visit to Miss Thomasia waslike reading one of Scott’s novels; that she got back to a land ofchivalry and drank at the springs of pure romance; while Miss Thomasiaasserted that Blair was a breath of May.

  Jacquelin, after a time, came to recognize the traces of Blair’svisits, in the little touches of change and improvement about thehouse: a pruned rose-bush here, a fold of white curtain there, andhe often had to hear her praises sung by Miss Thomasia’s guilelesstongue, and listen to the good lady’s lament because Blair and Stevedid not proceed a little more satisfactorily with their affairs.Miss Thomasia had an idea that it was on account of Steve’s formerreputation for wildness. “It would have such a good influence onSteve,” she declared, “would be just what he needed. I quite approveof a young lady being coy and maidenly, but, of course, I know thereis an understanding between them, and I must say, I think Blair iscarrying it too far.” She bridled as she always did at the thought ofanyone opposing Steve. “I know that a man is sometimes driven by ayoung lady’s cruelty—apparent cruelty—for I am sure Blair would notwittingly injure anyone—into courses very sad and injurious to him.”Miss Thomasia heaved a sigh and gazed out of the window, and a momentlater resumed her knitting.

  “Do you see anything of that—young lady, Miss Welch?” she askedJacquelin, suddenly.

  Jacquelin said he had not seen her for some time, except at church, andonce or twice in the village, at a distance.

  “I did not suppose you had,” said Miss Thomasia. “She is a very nice,refined girl—has always been very sweet to me when I have met her—butof course—.” Her lips closed firmly and she began to knit vigorously,leaving Jacquelin to wonder what she meant.

  “I only wanted to know,” she said, presently, and that was the onlyexplanation she gave.