that they could make you a
livin' in the mill?"

Conway was silent. In truth, he had thought of that very thing.
To-day, however, he was nerved and desperate, being more besotted
than usual.

"Now, look aheah--it's this way," went on Jud--"you're gettin' along
in age and you need res'. You've been wuckin' too hard. I tell you,
Majah, sah, you're dead game--no other man I know of would have stood
up under the burdens you've had on yo' shoulders."

The Major drew himself up: "That's a family trait of the Conways,
suh."

"Wal, it's time for you to res' awhile. No use to drive a willin'
hoss to death. I can get a place for both of the gyrls in the mill,
an' aftah the fust month--aftah they learn the job, they can earn
enough to support you comf't'bly. Now, we'll give you a nice little
cottage--no bother of keepin' up a big run-down place like this--jes'
a neat little cottage. Aunt Mariah can keep it in nice fix. The gyrls
will be employed and busy an' you can jes' live comf't'bly, an' res'.
An' say," he added, slyly--"you can get all the credit at the
Company's sto' you want an' I'm thinkin' you'll find a better brand
of licker than that you've been samplin'."

Besotted as he was--hardened and discouraged--the proposition came
over Conway with a wave of shame. Even through his weakened mind the
old instinct of the gentleman asserted itself, and for a moment the
sweet refined face of a beautiful dead wife, the delicate beauty of a
little daughter, the queenliness of an elder one, all the product of
good breeding and rearing, came over him. He sprang to his feet.
"What do you mean, suh? My daughters--grandchildren of Gen. Leonidas
Conway--my daughters work in the mill by the side of that poor trash
from the mountains? I'll see you damned first."

He sat down--he bowed his head in his hands. A glinty look came into
his eyes.

Jud drew his chair up closer: "But jes' think a minute--you're sold
out--you've got no whur to go, you've wuck'd yo'self down tryin' to
save the farm. We've all got to wuck these days. The war has changed
all the old order of things. We havn't got any mo' slaves."

"We,"--repeated Conway, and he looked at the man and laughed.

Jud flushed even through his sallow skin:

"Wal, that's all right," he added. "Listen to me, now, I'm tryin' to
save you from trouble. The war changed everything. Your folks got to
whur they did by wuckin'. They built up this big estate by economy
an' wuck. Now, you mu