seen
many a one in her day, and all the servants at Jordan's Journey will
never rest quiet. I've always wondered if your mother and Miss Kesiah
were ever frightened by the stories the darkies tell?" For a moment she
paused, and then added softly, "It was all so different, they say, when
the Jordans were living."

Again the phrase which had begun to irritate him! Who were these dead
and gone Jordans whose beneficent memory still inhabited the house they
had built?

"I don't think my mother would care for such stories," he replied after
a minute. "She has never mentioned them in her letters."

"Of course nobody really puts faith in them, but I never pass the
spring, if I can help it, after the sun has gone down. It makes me feel
so dreadfully creepy."

"The root of this gossip, I suppose, lies in the general dislike of my
uncle?"

"Perhaps--I'm not sure," she responded, and he felt that her rustic
simplicity possessed a charm above the amenities of culture. "The old
clergyman--that was before Mr. Mullen's day--when we all went to the
church over at Piping Tree--used to say that the mercy of God would have
to exceed his if He was ever going to redeem him. I remember hearing
him tell grandma when I was a child that there were a few particulars
in which he couldn't answer with certainty for God, and that old Mr.
Jonathan Gay was one of 'em. 'God Almighty will have to find His own way
in this matter,' he used to declare, 'for I wash my hands of it.' I'm
sorry, sir," she finished contritely, "I forgot he was your own blood
relation."

In the spirit of this contrition, she changed the basket back again to
her left arm; and perceiving his advantage, Gay acted upon it with his
accustomed alacrity.

"Don't apologize, please, I am glad I have this from your lips--not from
a stranger's."

Under the spell of her beauty, he was aware of a pleasurable sensation,
as though the pale rose of the orchard grass had gone to his head and
coloured his vision. There was a thrill in feeling her large, soft arm
brushing his sleeve, in watching the rise and fall of her bosom under
her tight calico dress.

"I shall always know that we were friends--good friends, from the
first," he resumed after a minute.

"You are very kind, sir," she answered, "this is my path over the stile
and it is growin' late--Tobias's mother will surely give him a whippin'.
I hope you don't mind my havin' gathered these persimmons on your land,"
she concluded