"All right," replied John Temple, smiling grimly; and he was fain to kiss his wife, and to cast a satisfied glance at the "sole daughter of his house and heart," which was so royally blessed with abundance of name. In his view the child was not yet baptized, and at a convenient season he would take it to Father Duffy; but he would not trouble his wife by disclosing this intention. CHAPTER XIII. NEW MISTRESS AT KENNONS. "When a woman will, she will, you may depend on't, When she won't, she won't, and there's an end on't." Mrs. Jerusha Thornton Rush, from the time of Ellice's death, had firmly resolved on marrying Duncan Lisle. He, on the other hand, had firmly resolved never to allow that scheming widow to supplant his lost wife. Whether her will was stronger than his, or whether he changed his mind, it matters not; at the end of three years Mrs. Rush had carried her point and become Mrs. Lisle--one of the incomprehensibilities which may be left without comment. She had struggled so long and doubtfully for the prize, that, by the time she had won it, she was disposed to undervalue and despise it. "I will make him feel in his turn, when in my power, how charming the sensation of being spitted or speared!" she had threatened, and she kept her word. "I jist knowed it from de fust," declared Aunt Amy, sorrow and anger in her tones, and the Indian expression assuming mastery in her face. "Somehow I jist felt it all over me dat dat woman would come aroun' massa and jes make him marry her. She's 'witched him; she's gin him love-potions, I make no doubt; and I 'spec's"--here she lowered her voice to a whisper--"I 'spec's she's sold herself to de debil to make him help her. Nuthin' else could ever 'duced Massa Duncan to marry such a--such a crocodile. He'll never be sorry but onc't, and 'dats all his life." "Der's an end to all our 'joyment," sighed Chloe, grown more weighty in flesh; "de Lord knows what's going to become of us--an' all her host o' bad niggers mixin' in wid our'n, and she domineerin' ober eberyting. O, it's an orful bad day for us, sure! An', then, that hateful boy o' her'n--he's worse 'an pizen, notstan'ing his slick, ile-y ways--'tween him an' her we'll stan' mighty slim chance. She bad's bad can be, an' he worse." China shed tears silently over her needle, giving now and then a groan. She, too, was haunted by a presentiment that her happy days were over. For her, Miss Rusha, as all the servants called her, had ever evinced unconcealed dislike, for the very reason, it would seem, that it irked her to behold any person in peace and contentment. She especially hated meek, gentle, uncomplaining people, and loved to render them uncomfortable. And China, Ellice's favorite house-servant, was so good, gentle, and obedient, that her former mistress had seldom found fault with her.