omewhat alarmed
her, was one of the patches of water formed in the marshy bottom
of the Punch-Bowl by the water that oozes forth in many springs
from under the sandstone.

The track now passed under trees.

A glimpse of dull orange light, and old Clutch halted, unbidden.

"Here we be, we two," said Jonas. "This is home. And Paradise, if
you will."

CHAPTER XIV.

NOT PARADISE.

At the moment that the cart halted, a black dog burst out of the
house door, and flew at Mehetabel as she attempted to descend.

"Ha, Tartar!" laughed Jonas. "The rascal seems to know his reign
is over. Go back, Tartar. I'll thrash you till the favor off my
whip is beat into your hide, if you don't be quiet. Hitherto he
has guarded my house, when I have been from home. Now that will
be your duty, Matabel. Can't keep a wife and a dog. 'Twould be
too extravagant. Tartar! Down! This is your mistress--till I get
rid of you."

The dog withdrew reluctantly, continuing to growl and to show his
fangs at Mehetabel.

In the doorway stood Sally Rocliffe, the sister of Jonas. Though
not so openly resentful of the intrusion as was Tartar, she
viewed the bride with ill-disguised bad humor; indeed, without an
affectation of cordiality.

"I thought you was never coming," was Sarah's salutation. "Goodness
knows, I have enough to do in my own house, and for my own people,
not to be kept dancin' all these hours in attendance, because
others find time for makin' fools of themselves. Now, I hope I
shall not be wanted longer. My man needs his meals as much as
others, and if he don't get 'em reglar, who suffers but I? Dooty
begins at home. You might have had more consideration, and come
earlier, Jonas."

The woman accorded to Mehetabel but a surly greeting. The young
bride entered the house. A single tallow dip was burning on the
table, with a long dock to it, unsnuffed. The hearth was cold.

"I didn't light a fire," said Mrs. Rocliffe; "you see it wouldn't
do. Now you have come as mistress, it's your place to light the
fire on the hearth. I've heard tell it's unlucky for any other
body to do it. Not as I knows." She shrugged her shoulders. It
seemed that this was a mere excuse put forward to disguise her
indolence, or to veil her malevolence.

Mehetabel looked around her.

There were no plates. There was nothing to eat prepared on the
kitchen table. No cloth; nothing whatever there, save the guttering
candle.

"I didn't lay out nuthin',"