he had chosen.

From a hill half a mile to the west of the Warren plantation he drew
rein and all but bitterly surveyed the vast possessions of his
incongruous spouse. In a grove of primitive oaks, near the
main-travelled road, against the misty blue background of the distant
mountain-range, stood the stately white residence, with its long veranda
supported by dignified Corinthian columns, its steep roof, quaint
dormer-windows, and central cupola.

"What a joke!" Henley said, with a wry smile, as he started his horse
slowly down the incline. "And she's the mistress of it all. I wonder if
she'll expect me to get down on my all-fours and crawl in at the
back-door."

Old Wrinkle must have been on the lookout for him, for, in his best
clothes, he was standing at the carriage-gate in the nearest corner of
the grounds. His beard had been trimmed, or awkwardly chopped off, by
the unsteady fingers of his wife, and his grizzled hair was plastered
down over his dingy brow flatter than it had ever been before.

"Hello!" he called out, merrily. "I 'lowed I'd warn you to enter at this
gate an' not drive on to the little one in front of the mansion. That's
for foot-passengers," he explained, as he swung the gate open. "Het's
mighty--I mean Hester; she says I mustn't call 'er Het any more; she
says it will make the nigger help disrespectful. It ain't Pa and Ma any
more, either, bless yore life! but father and mother. The other day at
the table, before we had lifted our plates, she started in to father me,
solemnlike, an' I ducked my head, for I thought she'd set in to ax the
blessin'. I started to say that she was mighty particular about the way
things are run. Ben had rules an' regulations, you see, an' she is
carryin' 'em out an' addin' on more. I seed 'er git as red as a
turkey-cock t'other day beca'se a nigger-wench rung the front-door bell.
She made the woman hump 'erself round to the kitchen double quick. She's
got a new toy to piddle with, an' it's a whoppin' big un. She says
things has to move accordin' to the clock on this gigantic place, an' so
far it's doin' it. Wait, I'll shet the gate an' ride to the barn with
you.

"You've got a lot to learn, Alf," Wrinkle resumed, as he climbed into
the buggy and the horse started, "and you might as well set in to do it.
I told my wife I was goin' to git you off on one side an' give you a few
hints so you won't make the mistakes we did at the outset. About
eatin'-time, for instanc