Eve, seeing the speechless passion of the old man, had not believed that Cicely would prevail; she had closed her eyes with a shuddering, horrible vision of the forward rush, the wrested whip, and the silver-haired head in the dust. But, with a mighty effort, trembling like a leaf with his repressed rage, the judge put up his hand to help her in her descent. She accepted his aid hurriedly, giving Jack to Cicely; Miss Leontine had climbed down alone, the tears dropping on her cheeks behind her veil. The judge then led the horse up the bank and past the wagon, the negro keeping his position beside his mules; the ladies followed the wagon, and mounted to their places again when it had reached the track, Cicely taking the seat by the side of her grandfather. Then they drove off, followed by the negro's jeering laughter. The old planter remained perfectly silent. Eve believed that, after he had deposited them safely at home, he would go back in search of that negro without fail. She and Cicely tried to keep up a conversation; Miss Leontine joined them whenever she was able, but the tears constantly succeeded each other on her long face, and she was as constantly putting her handkerchief to her eyes in order to repress them, the gesture much involved with her blue veil. On the borders of the village they passed the little railway station. By the side of the station-house there was a new shop, which had a broad show-window filled with wooden wash-tubs. "This is the shop of Thomas Scotts, the tar-and-turpentine man who is in love with Matilda Debbs," said Cicely. "How is that coming on now, Miss Leontine?" Miss Leontine took down her handkerchief. "The family do not consent." "But there's nothing against the man, is there?" Miss Leontine took down the handkerchief again--she had already replaced it. "As regards his character, n-nothing. But he is a manufacturer of tubs. It appears that it is the business of the family; his father also manufactures them. In Connecticut." "If Thomas Scotts should make a beautiful new tub for each of the Misses Debbs, it wouldn't be a bad idea; there are twelve or fourteen of them, aren't there?" "Ner-nine," replied the afflicted maiden lady, with almost a convulsion of grief. "But two of them are yer-young yet." "And seven are not. Now seven new tubs." "Cecilia, let us have no more of this," said the judge. It was the first time he had spoken; Cicely put her hand behind her and furtively pinched Eve's knee in token of triumph. They came into the main street of Gary Hundred. It was a broad avenue, wandering vaguely onward amid four rows of trees; there was no pavement; the roadway was deeply covered with yellow sand; the spacious sidewalks which bordered it were equally in a state of nature. The houses, at some distance back from the street, were surrounded by large straggling gardens. Farther down were the shops, each with its row of hitching-posts across the front.