"Laws, Mr. Dolf, don't say sich things; he's a shinin' light in de sanctumary, I'se certain." "It's a light I'd like to squinch," cried Dolf, "and if he pokes himself into my moonshine I'll do it." Clo gave a shrill scream, and caught his arm, as if she feared that he was intending to rush forth in search of the elder, and put his menace into instant execution. "Don't kick up a muss wid him," she pleaded: "why should yer?" "It 'pends on yer, Miss Clorindy, yer know; de 'couragement yer've ben a givin' him is 'nuff to drive yer admirers out o' der senses." "Oh, dear me, I neber heerd sich audacious nonsense!" said Clo. "It's true," answered Dolf, "an' yer knows it. But ye're received in dat man, Miss Clorindy, yer is! He's got both eyes fixed on de glitterin' dross. I've heerd him talk 'bout de fortin yer had, an' how it wud set a pusson up, an' what good he might do wid it 'mong de heathen." Clo gave another scream, but this time it was a cry of indignation and wrath. "Spend my money 'mong de heathen!" she cried. "I'd like to see him do it! comes 'bout me I'll pull his old wool fur him, I will." Dolf smiled at the success of his falsehood, and made ready to clench the nail after driving it in. "Dat's what he tinks anyhow. Why, Miss Clorindy, he was a tryin' ter find out jist how much yer was wuth." "'Taint nobody's business but my own," cried Clo, angrily, "folks needn't be a pumpin' me; 'taint no use." "Jis' what I've allers said," remarked Dolf, with great earnestness; "sich secrets, says I, is Miss Clorindy's own." "Yes, dey be," said Clo, holding on to the sides of her stool as tightly as if it had been the box which contained her treasures. "I've said sometimes," continued Dolf, "dat if de day shud eber come when dat parathon ob her sex made up her mind ter gib her loved hand to some true bussom, she'd probably whisper musical in his ear de secret she has kept from all de wuld." Clo was divided between the tenderness awakened by these words and the vigilance with which she always guarded the outposts leading to her cherished secret. "Ain't dat sense, Miss Clorindy?" demanded Dolf, getting impatient. "I hain't said it warn't," she replied. "Dis wuld is full ob mercenary men," Dolf went on, "searchin' fur de filty lucre; I'se glad I neber was one ob dem. I allers has 'spised de dross; gib me lobe, I says, and peace wid de fair one ob my choice, and I asks no more." Clo played with her apron string again, and looked modestly down. But Dolf did not know exactly what to say next without committing himself more deeply than he desired; indeed, he had been led on now considerably farther than he could wish, but that was unavoidable. "Not but what fortins is desirous," he said, "'cause in dis wuld people must lib." Clo assented gently to that self-evident proposition. "Do yer know what I'se often tought, Miss Clorindy," said Dolf, starting on a new tack. "'Spect I don't," said Clo.