younger boys and girls were in bed, and Mrs. Crow was yawning
prodigiously. She never retired until Anderson was ready to do likewise.
Suddenly it dawned upon her that he was unusually quiet and
preoccupied. They were sitting on the moonlit porch.

"What's the matter, Anderson? Ain't you well?" she asked at last.

"No; I'm just thinkin'," he responded, rather dismally. "Doggone, I
cain't get it out of my head, Eva."

"Can't get what out?"

"About Rosalie."

"Well, what about her?"

"That's jest like a woman--always fergittin' the most important things
in the world. Don't you know that the twenty years is up?"

"Of course I know it, but 'tain't worryin' me any. She's still here,
ain't she? Nobody has come to take her away. The thousand dollars came
all right last February, didn't it? Well, what's the use worryin'?"

"Mebbe you're right, but I'm skeered to death fer fear some one will
turn up an' claim her, er that a big estate will be settled, er
somethin' awful like that. I don't mind the money, Eva; I jest hate to
think of losin' her, now that she's such a credit to us. Besides, I'm up
a stump about next year."

"Well, what happens then?"

"Derned if I know. That's what's worryin' me."

"I don't see why you--"

"Certainly you don't. You never do. I've got to do all the thinkin' fer
this fambly. Next year she's twenty-one years old an' her own boss,
ain't she? I ain't her guardeen after that, am I? What happens then, I'd
like to know."

"You jest have to settle with the court, pay over to her what belongs to
her and keep the thousand every spring jest the same. Her people,
whoever they be, are payin' you fer keepin' her an' not her fer stayin'
here. 'Tain't likely she'll want to leave a good home like this 'un, is
it? Don't worry till the time comes, Anderson."

"That's jest the point. She's lived in New York an' she's got used to
it. She's got fine idees; even her clothes seem to fit different. Now,
do you s'pose that fine-lookin' girl with all her New York trimmin's 's
goin' to hang 'round a fool little town like this? Not much! She's goin'
to dig out o' here as soon's she gits a chance; an' she's goin' to live
right where her heart tells her she belongs--in the metropolees of New
York. She don't belong in no jim-crow town like this. Doggone, Eva, I
hate to see 'er go!"

There was such a wail of bitterness in the old constable's remark that
Mrs. Crow felt the tears start to her own eyes. It was th