"The Bishop thought Master John right to go." "Bless your heart, Miss Phill! De Bishop! De Bishop! He don't know no more 'an a baby 'bout dis world! You should ha' seen de way he take up and put down Mass'r John's rifle. Mighty onwillin' he was to put it down--kind ob slow like. I wouldn't trust de Bishop wid no rifle ef dar was any fightin' gwine on 'bout whar he was. De Bishop! He's jist de same as all de rest, Miss Phill. Dar, honey! here's de chicken and de coffee; don't you spile your appetite frettin' 'bout any of dem." "I wish Master Richard was home." "No wonder; for dar isn't a mite ob certainty 'bout his 'tentions. He jist as like to go off wid a lot ob soldiers as any of de boys, only he's so mighty keerful ob you, Miss Phill; and den he's 'spectin' a letter; for de last words he say to me was, 'Take care ob de mail, Harriet.' De letter come, too. Moke didn't want to gib it up, but I 'sisted upon it. Moke is kind ob plottin' in his temper. He thought Mass'r Richard would gib him a quarter, mebbe a half-dollar." "Did you think so, also, Harriet?" "Dem's de house perquisites, Miss Phill. Moke has nothin' 't all to do wid de house perquisites." "Moke has been sick, has he not?" "Had de fever, he says." "Is he not one of your classmates? I think I have heard you say he was 'a powerful member' of Uncle Isaac's class." "'Clar to gracious, Miss Phill, I forgot dat. Brudder Moke kin hab de letter and de perquisite." "I was sure you would feel that way, Harriet." "I'd rather hab you look at me dat shinin' kind ob way dan hab a dollar; dat I would, Miss Phill." Moke got the perquisite and Richard got his letter, but it did not seem to give him much pleasure. Phyllis noticed that after reading it he was unhappy and troubled. He took an hour's promenade on the piazza, and then sat down beside her. "Phyllis," he said, "we have both been unfortunate in our love. You stooped too low, and I looked too high. John has not money enough; Elizabeth has too much." "You are wronging both Elizabeth and John. What has Elizabeth done or said?" "There is a change in her, though I cannot define it. Her letters are less frequent; they are shorter; they are full of Antony and his wild, ambitious schemes. They keep the form, but they lack the spirit, of her first letters." "It is nearly two years since you parted." "Yes." "Go and see her. Absence does not make the heart grow fonder. If it did, we should never forget the dead. Those who touch us move us. Go and see Elizabeth again. Women worth loving want wooing." "Will you go with me?" "Do not ask me. I doubt whether I could bear the tossing to and fro for so many days, and I want to stay where I can hear from John."