ceased to desire to. Neither in the
new fiction nor in the old was there a place for the unhappy woman who
desired to charm but could not; she remained what she had always been--a
tragic perversion of nature which romance and realism conspired to
ignore. Women in novels had revolted against life as passionately as
she--but one and all they had revolted in graceful attitudes and
with abundant braids of hair. A false front not only extinguished
sentiment--it put an end to rebellion.

"Miss Kesiah, dar's Marse Reuben in de hall en he sez he'd be moughty
glad ef'n you'd step down en speak a wud wid 'im."

"In a moment, Abednego. I must take off my things."

Withdrawing the short jet-headed pins from her bonnet with a hurried
movement, she stabbed them into the hard round pincushion on her bureau,
and after throwing a knitted cape over her shoulders, went down the wide
staircase to where Reuben awaited her in the hall. As she walked she
groped slightly and peered ahead of her with her nervous, short-sighted
gaze.

At the foot of the staircase, the old man was standing in a patient
attitude, resting upon his wooden leg, which was slightly in advance
of his sound one. His fine bearded face might have been the face of a
scholar, except for its roughened skin and the wistful, dog-like look in
the eyes.

In response to Kesiah's greeting, he explained that he had come at once
to acknowledge the gift of the overcoat and to "pay his respects."

"I am glad you like it," she answered, and because her heart was
swelling with kindness, she stammered and grew confused while the
anxious frown deepened between her eyebrows. A morbid horror of making
herself ridiculous prevented her always from making herself understood.

"It will be very useful to me, ma'am, when I am out of doors in bad
weather," he replied, wondering if he had offended her by his visit.

"We got it for that purpose," and becoming more embarrassed, she added
hastily, "How is the red cow, Mr. Merryweather?"

"She mends slowly, ma'am. I am givin' her bran mash twice a day and
keepin' her in the barn. Have you noticed the hogs? They're a fine lot
this year and we'll get some good hams at the killin'."

"No, I hadn't looked at them, but I've been struck with the corn you've
brought up recently from the low grounds."

For a minute or two they discussed the crops, both painfully ill at ease
and uncertain whether to keep up the conversation or to let it trail
off i