Mary Burton had reached the age of thirty-six, and was no longer in her first youth, but her face seemed even more lovelier than when he married her, so Richard Burton thought. He too was a man of fine presence, with a frank, open face, that invariably won the favor of those who met him for the first time. He was in the full vigor of manhood, and when he and his wife attended the Methodist church on Sundays, many eyes were attracted by the handsome couple. They had one son, Bob, who will soon receive attention. "I have a great mind, Richard, to tell you why I distrust and fear Aaron Wolverton," said his wife after a slight pause. "I wish you would, Mary. Perhaps, when I know, I can talk you out of your apprehension." "Did you ever know that Aaron Wolverton was once a suitor for my hand?" Richard Burton burst into an explosive laugh. "What! That dried-up old mummy had the presumption to offer you his hand!" "He actually did, Richard," said Mrs. Burton, smiling. "I wonder you did not laugh in his face. Why, the man is fifteen years older than I am, twenty years older than you." "That difference is not unprecedented. I did not reject him because he was older than myself. If you had been as old as he when you offered yourself, I think I would have accepted you." "Poor old fellow! Did he take it hard?" asked Burton, half jocosely. "If you mean did he show any traces of a broken heart, I answer no. But when, after pressing his suit persistently, he found my resolution to be inflexible, his face became distorted with passion. He swore that he would be revenged upon me some day, and that if I dared to marry any one else he would never rest till he had brought harm to the husband of my choice." "I wish I had been there. I would have made him take back those words, or I would have horsewhipped him." "Don't take any notice of them, Richard," said Mary Burton, hastily. "It will be much better." "I agree with you," said her husband, his quick anger melting. "After all, the old fellow's disappointment was so great that I can excuse a little impetuosity, and even rudeness. You see, Mary, Wolverton isn't a gentleman." "No; and never will be." "He acted as his nature prompted. But it was all over years ago. Why, Mary, he is always friendly with me, even if I am your husband." "That is on the outside, Richard; but I fear he is crafty. He is like an Indian; his thirst for vengeance keeps alive." "Admitting all that, though I don't, what harm can he do, Mary, while I am here to protect you?" and the husband expanded his breast in conscious strength, and looked down proudly on his fair wife. "Why, I could wring his neck with only one hand." "Well, perhaps I am foolish, Richard," the wife admitted. "Of course you are, Mary." Just then Clip put his head inside the door. "De hoss is ready, massa!" he said. "All right, Clip! I'll come right out." Richard Burton kissed his wife hastily, and went out.