Hugh’s head sprang up with an expression of indignant astonishment, denial, and defiance on his fine countenance. Nettie gazed at him—appalled. Miss Joe stared, with mouth and eyes all open with wonder, exclaiming: “Good gracious, sir, you don’t tell me so. I heard something—but I didn’t—I never—well, dear me—Lord a-mercy. Was it really that away, arter all?” “Yes: and now my good friend, my excellent friend, let us change the subject; it is too painful; much too painful; even you can judge a father’s and a husband’s feelings must be upon such an occasion. Let us leave the agonizing topic, and never revert to it again. Let us turn to a more agreeable subject. My dear little goddaughter, here,” said he, bending over the child on his knee with his soft, bright smile—a smile as charming as full, beautifully curved lips, pearly teeth, and a dark mustache, and the spirit of Belial could make it; “my dear little godchild here—she is a very fine little girl, and will one day, no doubt, make a very accomplished woman. You have taken good care of her; it is easy to see that. What rosy cheeks she has!” “I have taken as good care of her as I could, sir—which being an old woman—too old to follow after children—wan’t much.” “I am under great obligations to you, Miss Joe, and must find some way in which to repay you for the years of trouble and expense you have been put to upon account of my little ward.” “Not at all, sir; you owe me nothing,” said the proud old lady. “I have always been a-t’iling, striving, saving soul; but I never saved anything, as I thought anyone near me, ’specially a little child, was a sufferin’ for. No, General Garnet, ef I am to be paid at this hour of the day I had rather the Lord pay me. I don’t want you to take it out’n his hands.” General Garnet, turning to little Nettie, again took her hand, looked at the beautifully-molded but sun-browned thing, and said, softly and smilingly: “You have a very pretty-shaped hand, my dear little girl. You ought to take care of it. You ought to wear gloves.” “Haint got any, godfather.” “But you should get them or have them got for you. Why don’t you?” “Couldn’t dig for maninosies or break brush with gloves on, godfather.” “Why, you don’t do these shocking things?” “Yes, indeedy! and I’m going coon hunting with Hugh next moonshiny night that comes.” “Next moonlight night that comes you will be in a very different looking place from this,” said he, pushing the lurid black ringlets back gently behind her ears, and noticing for the first time that sure index of “gentle blood” in human kind or horses—the small and elegantly formed ear. “Where shall I be, godfather?” “Never mind where! They have not bored your ears, Nettie!” “No; I haven’t had my ears bored, but I saw a picture of an Indian with his nose bored.” “Pooh—yet, after all, one is about as barbarous as the other, little Nettie. Nettie, my little girl, would you like to go home and live with me?”