“And she go dere to ’tire from de worl’; ’fuse to see any company; ’fuse to see her own dear friends; spent de live long day in walkin’ up and down de locust avenue, a thinkin’ on her husband in his grave. Byme-by, toward de fall, dere came back from furrin parts, a young Capt’in Lovel, who was a sort o’ quaintance o’ hern; and he sends and begs de privilege o’ jes shootin’ game in her woods, an’ he won’t come nigh de house, nor ’sturb anybody. And she guv him leave; ’cause she was too sorrowful to care ’bout it, one way or t’other. So he kept roamin’ through de woods, wid gun and dog, day arter day. At last he happen to meet she in her solemncolly walks. First ’twas only a bow one side, and a sigh t’other, as they passed each other Next ’twas a bow one side, and a melanchollum _smile_ t’other. Next it was—‘Good-mornin, madam,’ and ‘How do you do, sir?’ “Arter a bit it growed—‘A fine day, madam’—‘What sport have you had, sir?’ ‘Good, though excessive fatiguin’, madam,’ &c. ‘Wont you walk in an’ res’ sir?’ And so de handsome Capt’in gradu’ly got to visitin’ de house; till byme-by, de May followin’ bless patience if dey wa’n’t married! True for you, honey! I aint a tellin’ of you a bit o’ lie! ’Stead o’goin down in de church _yard_ with her dead husband she went into de church altar wid a live one; and ’stead o’ ’mitten’ suicide she went an’ mitted matrimony! Dem’s um! Ah, dat young Capti’n was a deep one! _He_ know’d pretty little widders! and so do I; I knows dere ways! Dey gits over it! And so will de child in dere. You mind! if some handsome young capt’in don’t come before long to hunt _her_ up—why she get tired o’ stayin and go into the world agin to hunt some young Capt’in up. Dat’s all! Dar! don’t you be oneasy.” “Your theory don’t apply to my mistress, though, Mother Amphy. _She_ is not an ordinary woman, nor are her sorrows common ones,” said Susan, carried past the bounds of prudence by her indignation at the idea of her own illustrious and most unhappy lady being compared to any other “widder.” “De Lors! child has she seen any heavier trouble dan de loss of husband?” “She lost husband, mother, father, and many relatives and friends at one fell blow. She is mourning now for them all.” “De ’Vine Marster in Heaben, honey! what dat you tell me!” exclaimed the old woman, rolling up her eyes in horror. “I am telling you the truth.” “Was it a shipwreck?” asked Amphy, her thoughts recurring to the Mercury. “Worse than that, it was an earthquake.” “A YETHQUAKE—MY! Where did it happen of, honey?” “In a land beyond the seas. Now you must know that I hate to talk about these things, Amphy. So drink your tea, that is a good soul, and let me drink mine.” “Yes, honey, yes; ’tis wonderful good tea indeed, ’specially with white sugar in it. I’se wery sorry for de chile—wery!”