The finer feminine instinct of Abigail led her to interpose. "We'll not expect too much of thee, at first, Richard," she remarked, with a kind expression of face, which had the effect of a smile; "but our ways are plain and easily learned. Thee knows, perhaps, that we're no respecters of persons." It was some days, however, before the young man could overcome his natural hesitation at the familiarity implied by these new forms of speech. "Friend Mitchenor" and "Moses" were not difficult to learn, but it seemed a want of respect to address as "Abigail" a woman of such sweet and serene dignity as the mother, and he was fain to avoid either extreme by calling her, with her cheerful permission, "Aunt Mitchenor." On the other hand, his own modest and unobtrusive nature soon won the confidence and cordial regard of the family. He occasionally busied himself in the garden, by way of exercise, or accompanied Moses to the cornfield or the woodland on the hill, but was careful never to interfere at inopportune times, and willing to learn silently, by the simple process of looking on. One afternoon, as he was idly sitting on the stone wall which separated the garden from the lane, Asenath, attired in a new gown of chocolate-colored calico, with a double-handled willow workbasket on her arm, issued from the house. As she approached him, she paused and said,-- "The time seems to hang heavy on thy hands, Richard. If thee's strong enough to walk to the village and back, it might do thee more good than sitting still." Richard Hilton at once jumped down from the wall. "Certainly I am able to go," said he, "if you will allow it." "Haven't I asked thee?" was her quiet reply. "Let me carry your basket," he said, suddenly, after they had walked, side by side, some distance down the lane. "Indeed, I shall not let thee do that. I'm only going for the mail, and some little things at the store, that make no weight at all. Thee mustn't think I'm like the young women in the city, who,--I'm told,--if they buy a spool of cotton, must have it sent home to them. Besides, thee mustn't over-exert thy strength." Richard Hilton laughed merrily at the gravity with which she uttered the last sentence. "Why, Miss--Asenath, I mean--what am I good for, if I have not strength enough to carry a basket?" "Thee's a man, I know, and I think a man would almost as lief be thought wicked as weak. Thee can't help being weakly-inclined, and it's only right that thee should be careful of thyself. There's surely nothing in that that thee need be ashamed of." While thus speaking, Asenath moderated her walk, in order, unconsciously to her companion, to restrain his steps. "Oh, there are the dog's-tooth violets in blossom!" she exclaimed, pointing to a shady spot beside the brook; "does thee know them?" Richard immediately gathered and brought to her a handful of the nodding yellow bells, trembling above their large, cool, spotted leaves.