"He took to fiddlin' and drinkin' arter he was fifty year old," remarked the Squire. "Yes, and the property he hain't drunk up he's fiddled away, till now he hain't got nothin' but a passel of half-free niggers and a little piece of land, and old Bradley Gaither is hungry for that. And that ain't all," exclaimed Miss Jane, solemnly; "Jack is ruined, and Rose is distracted." "Ah!" said the Squire. "Yes," said Miss Jane. "Trouble is always double and thribble. Rose was here last Tuesday, and she sot by the winder there and watched Jack all the time she stayed. "'That's what I call courtship at long taw,' s' I. "'Yes, Miss Jane,' se' she, 'it is, and I'm in a great deal of trouble about Jack. I understand him, but he don't understand me,' se' she. 'He's mad because father loaned his father money and then took land to pay for it. But I'd marry Jack,' se' she, 'if only to give him his land back.' "I declare!" Miss Jane continued, "'twould 'a' melted airy heart in the universe to see that child blushin' and cryin', I went and stood by her and put my arms round her, and I says to her, s' I-- "'Don't you fret, honey, don't you fret. Old Billy Carew is full of capers and vain babblin's,' s' I, 'and your pappy is puffed up by his fleshly mind; but the Almighty, he's a-watching' 'em. He'll fetch 'em up wi' a round turn,' s' I; 'He knows how to deal wi' unreasonable and wicked men.' I said them very words." "Saint Paul said 'em before you, Sister Jane, but you said 'em right,-- you said 'em right," exclaimed Squire Inchly, heartily. "Well, I don't set up to judge nobody, but I don't need no spyglass to see what's right in front of my face," said Miss Jane. Thus these two old people sat and talked about the affairs of their friends and neighbours,--affairs in which they might be said to have almost a personal interest. The conversation turned to other matters; but across the way they saw enacted some of the preliminaries and accompaniments of a mysterious complication that finally became as distressing and as disastrous as a tragedy. Old Billy Carew continued to gesticulate with his cane and to talk to himself. He desired no other audience. One moment he would be convulsed with laughter; then he would draw himself up proudly, wave his hand imperiously, and seem to be laying down a proposition that demanded great deliberation of thought and accuracy of expression. After a while his son, apparently growing tired of the humiliating spectacle, left his father to himself, and went over to Squire Inchly's. Jack Carew was a great favourite with the Squire and his sister. Miss Jane had petted him as a boy; indeed, after the death of his own mother, she had maintained towards him the relations of a foster-mother. His instinct had told him, even when a child, that the asperity of Miss Inehly was merely the humorous mask of a gentle and sensitive heart.