“Truth, was it? Well, you shall hear the rest of the truth. By-and-by he began to take the tone of a wise, affectionate guide and husband—which I have always noticed is very charming to good women, especially when it is mixed up with a little appreciative admiration—and he told her again what a high-principled, noble woman she was, and how she had only to get rid of _one_ foible—_one_ little weakness—and she would be a _glorious_ woman—a perfect woman! And she pressed to know what it was, and she was willing to get rid of _any_ fault he disapproved. ‘Oh,’ he told her, ‘it was a want of _trustfulness_—a want of that _confiding spirit so beautiful in woman_—it was no fault; only but for that one small foible she would be such a glorious woman!’ Well, Mark, to convince him that she could exercise a confiding spirit, and so become ‘a glorious woman’ all out, she gives him the full possession and perfect control of all her property, real and personal; and the upshot of it all is, that Dr. Wells has sold Silentshades, and they have emigrated to Texas!” “Was my mother willing to go?” “I don’t know, Mark. After parting with Silentshades, they remained here at Cashmere about three months before getting off to Texas; and I thought in that three months your mother altered more than any one I had ever seen.” “Poor, dear mother!” “There was another thing that gave her trouble. The Doctor certainly _did_ neglect her; and then he took a great fancy to purchase a beautiful maid-servant from Clement Sutherland—I dare say you remember the girl—she was Mrs. Ashley’s own maid, Oriole.” “Yes, I know”— “Mrs. Ashley—India—wished to part with her, too; and I dare say the sale would have been effected, only there was an execution, and Oriole, with half-a-dozen of the likeliest of the house servants, both men and maids, were seized, and put up at auction. Well, when Oriole was placed upon the block, there was pretty high bidding, I assure you. The three principal bidders were a New Orleans trader—who seemed determined to have the girl at any price—and Dr. Wells, and Mr. Ashley. But Dr. Wells and Mr. Ashley outbid the trader, and had the field all to themselves; and the contest ran very high between them. I wish you could have seen those two men bidding against each other for that girl! They became excited—angry—their eyes grew blood-shot—they glanced at each other like tigers—their glances flashed fire! They ran the price up to a ridiculous pitch. Finally, Dr. Wells, frowning, sat down. Mr. Ashley was the purchaser. ‘Thank Heaven,’ said your mother, when she heard the issue. Mrs. Ashley curled her lip in proud silence!” Mark Sutherland dropped his head upon his hands, and groaned. A pause ensued, which after some time was broken by Mr. Sutherland. “You mentioned an execution on the premises—is it possible my uncle was in debt beyond his means of cash payment?” “Umph! I don’t think any one in the State would consider it worth while to ask the question _now_.”