“Miss Callena, Miss Marfy, Mr. Dunkin an’ me!” said Mr. Taft; and he chuckled softly to himself. Then he added: “Well, I did speak ’bout de hosses an’ de hogs an’ de lan’, didn’t I; well, what mo’ could I do? Of co’se, I didn’t say whose dey was; but he didn’t want me to mention no names—jes’ to hint, an’ I did hint. Nobody couldn’t ask no mo’ dan dat.” Thus does that duplicity which is resident in the hearts of men seek to deceive even itself, making shining virtues of its shadiest acts. In the days that ensued, Alonzo availed himself of Miss Callena’s invitation to call, and went often. If he was trying or had succeeded in deceiving himself as to his feelings, in the minds of two sagacious women there was yet no doubt about his intentions. The clear eyes of the teacher could do something besides sparkle; they could see. And she wondered and smiled at the beau’s veiled wooing. From the first gorgeous moment of the fawn-coloured waistcoat and the blue Prince Albert, the other woman, Martha, had seen through her recreant lover as by inspiration. She constantly brooded over his infidelity. He had entirely deserted her now, not even making any pretence of caring what she thought of him. For a while the girl went stolidly about her own business, and tried to keep her mind from dwelling on him. But his elegance and grace would come back to her with the memory of their pleasant days of courtship, and fill her heart with sorrow. Did she care for him still? Of course she did. The admission hurt her pride, but fostered in her a strong determination. If she did love him and had dared to confess so much to herself, she had already reached the lowest depths of humiliation. It could be no worse to make an effort to retain her lover. This resolution gave her warrant to accost Mr. Dunkin the next time she saw him pass the house. “Howdy, Mistah Dunkin?—how you come on?” “Jes’ tol’able, Miss Marfy. How’s yo’se’f?” “Mode’t’, thanky, jes’ mode’t’. How de school-house come on?” “Oh, hit’s p’ogressin’ mos’ salub’ious, thanky, ma’am.” “I would ax you how de teachah, but hit do seem dat Mistah Taf’ done beat yo’ time so claih dat you wouldn’t know nothin’ ’bout it.” “Haw, haw, Miss Marfy, you sholy is de beatenes’ one to have yo’ joke.” “I ’claih to goodness, Mistah Dunkin, I’s s’prised at a man o’ yo’ position lettin’ Mistah Taf’ git de bes’ of him dat way.” “Nemmine, Miss Marfy, I ’low dat young man o’ yo’n done let out my secut, but you cain’t rig me ’bout hit.” “I don’t unnerstan’ you. What young man, an’ what secut?” “Oh, I reckon you an’ Mistah Taf’ ’ll soon be man an’ wife, an’ hit ain’t no hahm fu’ de wife to know what de husban’ know.” “I do’ know huccome you say dat; Mistah Taf’ don’ have nothin’ to say to me; he cou’tin’ Miss Callena Johnson.” “Don’ have nothin’ to say to you! Cou’tin’ Miss Callena!” “Dat’s de reason I wants to know huccome you back out.”