Absalom. "Johnny" was
Mrs. Dorrington, who, in turn, called Mrs. Absalom "Nonny," which was
Nan's pet name for the woman who had raised her--"I'll go see, but I
lay she's gone to see Nan; I never before seed a step-mammy so wropped
up in her husband's daughter." Nan, as has been said, was spending a few
days with poor Margaret Bridalbin, whose mother had just been buried.

Mrs. Absalom called Mrs. Dorrington, and then looked for her, but she
was not to be found at the moment. "I reckon you'll have to go to the
door, Gabe," said Mrs. Absalom, as the knocker sounded. "Sence freedom,
we ain't got as many niggers lazyin' around an' doin' nothin' as we use
to have."

"Is Mr. Goodlett in?" asked Silas Tomlin, when Gabriel opened the door.

"I think he's in Malvern," Gabriel answered, as politely as he could.

"No, no, no!" exclaimed Silas Tomlin, with a terrible frown; "you don't
know a thing about it, not a thing in the world. He got back right after
dinner."

"Well, ef he did," said Mrs. Absalom, coming forward, "he didn't come
here. He ain't cast a shadow in this house sence day before yistiddy,
when he went to Malvern."

"How are you, Mrs. Absalom?--how are you?" said Silas, with a tremendous
effort at politeness. "I hope you are well; you are certainly looking
well. You say your husband is not in? Well, I'm sorry; I wanted to see
him on business; I wanted to get some information."

"Ab don't owe you anything, I hope," remarked Mrs. Absalom, ignoring the
salutation.

"Not a thing--not a thing in the world. But why do you ask? Many people
have the idea that I'm rolling in money--that's what I hear--and they
think that I go about loaning it to Tom, Dick and Harry. But it is not
so--it is not so; I have no money."

Mrs. Absalom laughed ironically, saying, "I reckon if your son Paul was
to scratch about under the house, he'd find small change about in
places."

Silas Tomlin looked hard at Mrs. Absalom, his little black eyes
glistening under his coarse, heavy eyebrows like those of some wild
animal. He was not a prepossessing man. He was so bald that he was
compelled to wear a skull-cap, and the edge of this showed beneath the
brim of his chimney-pot hat. His face needed a razor; and the grey beard
coming through the cuticle, gave a ghastly, bluish tint to the pallor of
his countenance. His broadcloth coat--Mrs. Absalom called it a
"shadbelly"--was greasy at the collar, and worn at the seams, and his
waistcoat wa