is foundling, dropped
into a black preacher's cabin, desired so much to know something of the
two lives that gave her birth.

"No, neber." Mammy's answer was final. "Dey gib yer a start an' leab de
res' fer us. I used ter fear as some un ud claim yer, but I stop dat
now. De pusson I fears is de man as my baby'll say yes to when he axes
her ter be his wife."

"He won't come, Mammy."

"Quit yer foolin'!" The old woman laughed into the serious young face.
"Don' I know how de fellers at school broke der hearts ober yer, an' out
in de city you was de putties' gal o' de lot. I's feared sometimes dis
ain't de place fer a young t'ing like you."

"I'm very happy here," Hertha made answer.

"I's glad o' dat. Ellen, now, she's t'inkin' as yer need company."

"I wish Ellen wouldn't worry over me."

"She ain't worryin', honey." The mother spoke soothingly, seeing that
her remark had awakened annoyance. "She jes' wants yer ter hab what's
rightly yours."

"I'm very happy," Hertha reiterated. "Only," she added, "I do miss Tom.
He used to love to be on the porch with us Sunday afternoons, didn't
he?"

"Yes, dearie."

"I think Tom's going to be a splendid man; you can always trust him."

"Dat's so, dat's so. An' dat's de bes' t'ing yer can say ob any man."

They sat together a little longer, the sun lengthening the shadow of the
cabin upon the white sand, and then, with the coming twilight, went
within.

CHAPTER VII

John Merryvale was growing old, people were beginning to say; and then
would add that the world, when he should pass away, would miss an
old-time gentleman. He was a tall, thin man, long of limb and deliberate
of speech. The impatient northern guest who tried to hurry him with the
mail could fidget to her fill without decreasing by a moment the time he
chose to spend upon his task. He could not be hurried but he could
easily be duped, and many of the acres that Lee Merryvale coveted, but
saw in other hands, had slipped from his father's by reason of
over-confidence in some speculator or old acquaintance. But, no matter
how often he was imposed upon, he never lost his equanimity. The man who
took advantage of him was not to be condemned; it was not his fault if
he had not been born a gentleman; the overreaching tradesman was to be
pitied. That he, John Merryvale, was to be pitied did not even enter his
thoughts.

The Negroes of the place loved and looked up to him, and he on his part
treated them