here could not be deceit.

Bed time came immediately after supper. The old man did not go out to
look after his chickens, so tired was he, and there was no song in the
sitting-room. I sat in the passage, where the moonlight fell, and hoped
that the girl might join me, but she did not, and I went to my room,
where I found Alf, half undressed, sitting on the edge of the bed. I had
sat down and had filled my pipe before he took notice of me, but when I
began to search about for a light he looked up and remarked: "Matches on
the corner of your library."

"Here's one," I replied, and had lighted the pipe when he said: "Saw her
to-day, Bill--saw her riding along the road with Dan Stuart. She didn't
even look over in the field toward me, but he waved his hand, and I saw
more hatred than friendship in it. Blame it all, Bill, I'm not going to
follow a plow through the dirt all the time. I can do something better,
and after this crop's laid by I'm going to do it. I don't think that she
wants to marry a farmer."

"What does Stuart do?" I asked. "How can he afford to be riding about
when other men are at work?"

"Oh, I guess he's pretty well fixed. He's got a lot of negroes working
for him and he raises a good deal of tobacco. No, sir, she didn't even
look toward me."

"But haven't you passed her house when you were almost afraid to look
toward the porch when you knew that she was standing there?"

"Of course I have!" he cried. "Yes, sir, I've done that many a
time--just pretended that I had business everywhere else but on that
porch. Ain't it strange how love does take hold of a fellow? It gets
into his heart and his heart shoots it to the very ends of his fingers;
it gets into his eyes, and he can't see anything but love, love
everywhere. It may catch you one of these days, Bill, and when it does,
you'll know just how I feel."

I looked at this strong and honest man, this man idolizing an image that
he had enshrined in his soul, and I thought to tell him that, with my
forehead touching the ground, I had worshiped his sister, but no, it was
too delicate a confidence--I would keep it to myself.

We were astir in the dawn the next day, ate breakfast by the light of a
lamp, but Guinea was not at the table, and I loitered there after the
others were gone out, hoping to see her, but she did not come, and then
I remembered that Mrs. Jucklin was also absent, and that the services of
the meal had been performed by a negro woman.