ston being handed into a
magnificent barouche by one of the black gentry she so much despised.
Another one in gaudy gold livery sat on the box, and a mounted outrider,
also bound up in gold braid, stood behind the carriage.

'There's a two-thousand-dollar turnout, and two fifteen-hundred-dollar
niggers, to tote a woman who ought to go afoot. It's a poor investment,
I swear,' said Joe, turning away from the window.

Preston made no reply; but I laughingly remarked:

'Come, Joe, she isn't _your_ wife. Let your father spend his money as he
pleases; he can afford it.'

'He _can't_ afford it; that woman is running him to the devil at a
two-forty gait. You have more influence with him than any one, Mr.
Kirke--_do_ try to stop it!'

The young man spoke in a decided but regretful tone, and his manner
showed more respect to his father than his words implied. Unwilling to
interfere in such an affair, I said nothing; but Preston, in a moment,
remarked:

'It is true, Kirke! Her extravagance has ruined my credit at home, and
forced me to use Joe's indorsements; besides, I have had to borrow ten
thousand dollars of him to keep my head above water.'

[Mr. James Preston--the Squire's uncle--had died the year before, and
the young man had succeeded to his large property and business.]

I was thunderstruck; but, before I could reply, Joe said:

'I don't care a rush for the money. Father can have every dollar I've
got; but I _do_ want to see him rid of that woman. I've been here sick
for two months, and I've seen the whole. She is worrying the very life
out of him. She's made him an old man at forty.'

It was true. His face was lean and haggard, and his hair already thickly
streaked with white.

Preston rose, and, walking the room, said:

'But what am I to do? You yourself, Joe, would not have all this made
public. You've as much pride about it as I have.'

'I've not a bit of pride about it, father; and it's public now.
Everybody knows it, and everybody says you ought to cut her adrift.'

'What had I better do? Tell me, my friend,' said Preston, still walking
the room.

'I cannot advise, you, Preston. An outsider should express no opinion on
such matters.'

In a moment Preston said:

'Well, Joe, no more of this now. I'll do what is right, however much it
may wound my pride.'

The conversation turned to other subjects, till Mrs. Preston's return
from church, shortly after which dinner was announced. The lady presided