trong has many admirers.
It could not be otherwise with one so splendidly beautiful, so
gracefully gifted. But among them there is none for whom she has shown
partiality.

He has, himself, conceived a suspicion, that a young man, by name
Charles Clancy--son of a decayed Irish gentleman, living near--has found
favour in her eyes. Still, it is only a suspicion; and Clancy has gone
to Texas the year before--sent, so said, by his father, to look out for
a new home. The latter has since died, leaving his widow sole occupant
of an humble tenement, with a small holding of land--a roadside tract,
on the edge of the Armstrong estate.

Rumour runs, that young Clancy is about coming back--indeed, every day
expected.

That can't matter. The proud planter, Armstrong, is not the man to
permit of his daughter marrying a "poor white"--as Richard Darke
scornfully styles his supposed rival--much less consent to the so
bestowing of her hand. Therefore no danger need be dreaded from that
quarter.

Whether there need, or not, the suitor of Helen Armstrong at length
resolves on bringing the affair to an issue. His love for her has
become a strong passion, the stronger for being checked--restrained by
her cold, almost scornful behaviour. This may be but coquetry. He
hopes, and has a fancy it is. Not without reason. For he is far from
being ill-favoured; only in a sense moral, not physical. But this has
not prevented him from making many conquests among backwood's belles;
even some city celebrities living in Natchez. All know he is rich; or
will be, when his father fulfils the last conditions of his will--by
dying.

So fortified, so flattered, Dick Darke cannot comprehend why Miss
Armstrong has not at once surrendered to him. Is it because her haughty
disposition hinders her from being too demonstrative? Does she really
love him, without giving sign?

For months he has been cogitating in this uncertain way; and now
determines upon knowing the truth.

One morning he mounts his horse; rides across the boundary line between
the two plantations, and on to Colonel Armstrong's house. Entering, he
requests an interview with the colonel's eldest daughter; obtains it;
makes declaration of his love; asks her if she will have him for a
husband; and in response receives a chilling negative.

As he rides back through the woods, the birds are trilling among the
trees. It is their merry morning lay, but it gives him no gladness.
T