Sleeny. But the interview was short and painful to Matchin. He left his
daughter in possession of the field, and went to walk by the lake shore
to recover his self-possession, which had given way beneath her firm
will and smiling scorn. When he returned to the shop Sleeny was there,
sitting on a bench and chewing pine shavings.

"What did she say?" asked the young fellow. "But never mind--I see
plain enough it's no use. She's too good for me, and she knows it."

"Too good!" roared Saul. "She's the golderndest----"

"Hold on there," said Sleeny. "Don't say nothin' you'll have to take
back. Ef you say anything ag'in her, you'll have to swaller it, or whip
me."

Saul looked at him with amazement.

"Well! you beat me, the pair of you! You're crazy to want her, and
she's crazy not to want you. She liked to a' bit my head off for
perposin' you, and you want to lick me for calling her a fool."

"She ain't no fool," said Sleeny with sullen resignation; "she knows
what she's about," and lie picked up another shaving and ruminated upon
it.

The old man walked to and fro, fidgeting with his tools. At last he
came back to the young man and said, awkwardly dusting the bench with
his hand:

"Sam, you wasn't 'lowin' to leave along o' this here foolishness?"

"That's just what I was 'lowin' to do, sir."

"Don't you be a dern fool, Sam!" and Saul followed up this judicious
exhortation with such cogent reasons that poor Sleeny was glad to be
persuaded that his chance was not over yet, and that he would much
better stay where he was.

"How'll _she_ like it?"

"Oh! it won't make a mite o' difference to her," said the old man
airily, and poor Sam felt in his despondent heart that it would not.

He remained and became like the least of her servants. She valued his
attachment much as a planter valued the affection of his slaves,
knowing they would work the better for it. He did all her errands;
fetched and carried for her; took her to church on evenings when she
did not care to stay at home. One of the few amusements Saul Matchin
indulged in was that of attending spiritualist lectures and seances,
whenever a noted medium visited the place. Saul had been an unbeliever
in his youth, and this grotesque superstition had rushed in at the
first opportunity to fill the vacuum of faith in his mind. He had never
succeeded, however, in thoroughly indoctrinating his daughter. She
regarded her father's religion with the same contempt she