He looked at her countenance, at once noble and meek in expression; he remembered the life of toil, self-denial, and devotion she had lived; he even recollected a certain text of Scripture which said, “By their _fruits_ ye shall know them—do men gather _thorns_ of _fig trees_?” but the demon of cherished suspicion whispered, “’Twas all done for a purpose,” and he hardened his heart, and replied— “Oh! madam, I have no doubt or hesitation in placing the plantation under your care, and I shall have no anxiety in leaving it so for an indefinite period; not only because I have much faith in your natural talents and acquired experience, but, also, because I have more confidence in your self-love. And knowing that _you_ know our interests in the prosperity of this estate to be identical, I rest assured that you will do for it your very best.” “He—in all other circumstances, and to all other people—so noble, so liberal, so charitable—he never speaks to me but to upbraid me!” was the thought that presented itself to Catherine’s mind, but with the loyalty of her nature she repelled it, saying, within herself, “It is because he has what he thinks condemning evidence of my unworthiness—would he but charge me! would he but tell me what it is?” “Will you give me your attention, Mrs. Clifton?” he asked, breaking into her sad reverie. Catherine bowed gently. And he took down the “farm-book” from a shelf, opened it, and laying it before her, entered upon a series of details and explanations on both debt and credit sides of the accounts, with which it is not necessary to trouble the reader. After two or three hours spent in looking over bills, comparing them with receipts, calculating results, etc., he closed the book, replaced the papers in the portfolio, clasped it, and turning around to Catherine, said— “You understand, now?” “Yes, perfectly.” “As for these heavy notes that will fall due the first of January, you must contrive an interview with the holders, and get them renewed upon security—as I said before, remember.” “I shall not forget.” “No, or if you do, the holders of the notes will bring them to your recollection in not the pleasantest manner. And now, Mrs. Clifton, I wish you to keep a vigilant eye over Turnbull, and hold him to a strict account. I _suspect_ the man. I never have been able to understand how, with such a heavy force of negroes on this plantation, it has been necessary to hire about a baker’s dozen of white laborers, all of them, you understand, his own relations—brothers, sons, and nephews! I have reason to mistrust the fellow, but no time to look after him. Hold him to a strict account, Catherine.” “Suppose, for the coming year, you should place my brother Carl here as overseer? You have tested his skill and probity.” This was a very unlucky proposition on Catherine’s part. He sat back in his chair, and looking at her in steady scorn, said—