father’s face in all sincerity, with no trace of embarrassment.

“You know Mrs. Barker, the housekeeper you left me with?” she demanded a little later. “Well, she died when I was ten. Matty stayed, thinking every day you’d come home. I suppose mebbe I did grow up sort of cussed, and I suppose everybody thinks I’m bad because I’ve only a nigger to live with, and no mother, not—not even you.”

Singleton partly smothered an oath which lengthened itself into a groan, looked long at the slim young figure, then at the piquant face.

“Just lately I’ve been wanting some one of my own to love,” she pursued. “I only had Milly and her cats. Then the letter come saying you’d be here—and I’m very glad.”

The smile lighting her face and playing with the dimples in her cheeks made Thomas Singleton feel as if Heaven’s breath had touched him.

“Do you care at all for me?” he asked gloomily.

There had come over him a desire that this winsome girl,—winsome in spite of her crudity,—would say she did. Wonder, love, sympathy, were alive in her eyes. Jinnie nodded her head.

“Oh, yes, sir!” she murmured. “Of course I love you! I couldn’t tell you how much.... I love—why, I even 15 love Mose. Mose’s Matty’s man. He stole and et up all our chickens—but I love him just the same. I felt sorry about his killing the hens, because I loved them too.”

15

“I see,” sighed the father.

“Now there’s Molly—I call her Molly the Merry––”

“Who’s Molly the Merry?” interrupted Singleton.

“Old Merriweather’s daughter. She’s prettier than the summer roses, and they’re pretty, believe me. Her smiles’re warmer’n the sun.”

“Ah, yes! I remember the Merriweathers. Is the old man still alive?”

“Well, yes, but he’s as good as dead, though. Ain’t walked in three years. And Matty’s man, Mose, told Matty, and Matty told me, he’s meaner’n forty damn devils.”

“So you swear, too?” asked the father, breathing deeply.

Virginia opened wide and wider two sparkling blue eyes.

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