and bonnet on her arm, and
saying:

"Yer want to ketch yer deff, doan yer, Miss Odylit? Goin' out in de cole
widout nuffin on yer! Yer musn' gib yerse'f dat habit. 'Deed yer musn'.
Here, put on yer coat an' bonnet."

The girl turned, and let the woman help her on with her outer garments,
and when they were fastened, said:

"Aunt Lucy, will you go up to Mr. Le's room, and ask him to come down and
join me here?"

"Yes, honey, sure I will. Didn' he put a s'prise on to us all? Whip you
horses! how we was all took aback! Lor'! no wonder you fainted dead away.
But look yere, chile. Dat was de fus time as yer ebber fainted in yer
life, an' let it be de las'. Doan gib yerse'f a habit ob it. I know it tuk
yer onawares dis time, bein' de fus time, an' you knowin' nuffin 'bout it.
But you be on de watch out nudder time, an' if yer feel it a-comin' on,
you 'sist it wid all yer might. Doan yer faint no mo'. Ef yer gibs yerse'f
de habit, yer'll jes be like one ob dese yere po', mis'able, faintyfied
creetures as can't stand nuffin. Dey's allus faintn'. It's a habit dey
gibs deirselves."

So talking, Luce went into the house and up the stairs to give her
message.

In a few moments Le came bounding down the steps, three or four at a
bound, and out of the door with a shout of joy, to join his sweetheart,
little thinking of what he was to meet.

"Luce tells me that you are all right now!" he exclaimed, suddenly
clasping her in his arms and pressing her to his bosom, while he covered
her face with kisses.

"Little mistress of Greenbushes! Little lady of the manor! Have they done
everything to please you over there? If they have not--if any man has
failed to please my little lady--that man must march. How soon will our
wedding be? Before Christmas? Let it be before Christmas. Let us keep our
Christmas at Greenbushes, and have uncle and aunt and all the family there
to keep it with us. Won't that be jolly? For you and me to entertain our
friends at our own home! I was thinking of all this, and a lot more, all
the homeward voyage. Odalite, why don't you answer me? Why, Odalite!
Odalite! What is the matter?" he anxiously inquired, seeing at length how
pale and cold and silent she was--how utterly irresponsive to his
enthusiasm.

She struggled out of his embrace, and stood leaning for support against
the railings of the porch.

He followed her in surprise and alarm.

"Odalite! what is the matter, dear? Are you--are you going to