w _do_ you du, and how is your marm. And do you
know Helleny Rivers?"

Durward's brow darkened as he replied in the affirmative, while Joel
continued: "We are from the same town, and used to think a sight of
each other, but when I seen her in Kentucky, I thought she'd got to
be mighty toppin'. Mebby, though, 'twas only my notion."

Durward did not answer, and after a little his companion said, "I
suppose you know I sometimes take pictures for a livin'. I'm goin'
to my office now, and if you'll come with me I'll take yourn for
nothin', bein' you're related."

Mechanically, and because he had nothing else to do, Durward followed
the young man to his "office," which was a dingy, cheerless apartment
in the fourth story of a crazy old building. On the table in the
center of the room were several likenesses, which he carelessly
examined. Coming at last to a larger and richer case, he opened it,
but instantly it dropped from his hand, while an exclamation of
surprise escaped his lips.

"What's the row, old feller," asked Joel, coming forward and picking
up the picture which Durward had recognized as 'Lena Rivers.

"How came you by it?" said Durward eagerly, and with a knowing wink,
Joel replied, "I know, and that's enough."

"But I must know, too. It is of the utmost importance that I know,"
said Durward, and after a moment's reflection, Joel answered "Wall,
I don't s'pose it'll do any hurt if I tell you. When I was a boy I
had a hankerin' for 'Leny, and I didn't get over it after I was
grown, either, so a year or two ago I thought I'd go to Kentuck and
see her. Knowin' how tickled she and Mrs. Nichols would be with a
picter of their old home in the mountains, I took it for 'em and
started. In Albany I went to see a family that used to live in
Slocumville. The woman was a gal with 'Leny's mother, and thought a
sight of her. Wall, in the chamber where they put me to sleep, was
an old portrait, which looked so much like 'Leny that in the mornin'
I asked whose it was, and if you b'lieve me, 'twas 'Leny's mother!
You know she married, or thought she married, a southern rascal, who
got her portrait taken and then run off, and the picter, which in its
day was an expensive one, was sold to pay up. A few years afterward,
Miss Rice, the woman I was tellin' you about, came acrost it, and
bought it for a little or nothin' to remember Helleny Nichols by.
Thinks to me, nothin' can please 'Leny better than a daguerreotyp