purposely omitted. Hitherto she had been greatly petted and admired
by both Maria and her mother, and she felt the slight sensibly, the
more so, as Carrie darkly hinted that girls who could not behave
themselves must not associate with respectable people. "'Leny not
invited!" said Mrs. Nichols, espousing the cause of her
granddaughter. "What's to pay, I wonder? Miss Fontaine and the
gineral, too, allus appeared to think a sight on her."

"I presume the _general_ does now," answered Mrs. Livingstone, "but
it's natural that Mrs. Fontaine should feel particular about the
reputation of her daughter's associates."

"And ain't 'Leny's reputation as good as the best on 'em," asked Mrs.
Nichols, her shriveled cheeks glowing with insulted pride.

"It's the general opinion that it might be improved," was Mrs.
Livingstone's haughty answer, as she left her mother-in-law to her
own reflections.

"It'll kill her stone dead," thought Mrs. Nichols, revolving in her
own mind the propriety of telling 'Lena what her aunt had said.
"It'll kill her stone dead, and I can't tell her. Mebby it'll blow
over pretty soon."

That afternoon several ladies, who were in the habit of calling upon
'Lena, came to Maple Grove, but not one asked for her, and with her
eyes and ears now sharpened, she fancied that once, as she was
passing the parlor door, she heard her own name coupled with that of
Mr. Graham. A startling light burst upon her, and staggering to her
room, she threw herself, half fainting, upon the bed, where an hour
afterwards she was found by Aunt Milly.

The old negress had also heard the story in its most aggravated form,
and readily divining the cause of 'Lena's grief, attempted to console
her, telling her "not to mind what the good-for-nothin' critters
said; they war only mad 'cause she's so much handsomer and trimmer
built."

"You know, then," said 'Lena, lifting her head from the pillow. "You
know what it is; so tell me, for I shall die if I remain longer in
suspense."

"Lor' bless the child," exclaimed old Milly, "to think she's the very
last one to know, when it's been common talk more than a month!"

"What's been common talk? What is it?" demanded 'Lena; and old
Milly, seating herself upon a trunk, commenced: "Why, honey, hain't
you hearn how you done got Mr. Graham's pictur and gin him yourn
'long of one of them curls--how he's writ and you've writ, and how
he's gone off to the eends of the airth to get rid o