Miss Lucy thought of the thirty-five years of uncomplaining toil for the household,--her portion since her young womanhood: her heart quivered with the injustice of her father's words, but she bit her trembling lip and went on: "Anyway, Pa, ef I was to marry, I could take old Blackie, couldn't I?" "Naw, you shouldn't take that cow! I need that cow." "But she's mine, Pa," persisted Miss Lucy, "and you sold her yearlin' calf last spring and I--I--never got none of the money." "That don't make no difference," insisted her father, obstinately, "you shouldn't have her!" On Monday morning Miss Lucy went to town with the marketing, and came back with a silver gray costume--a dress of soft veiling, a gray silk turban, a pair of dainty laced shoes, and a depleted purse. Miss Nancy sternly disapproved of her purchases. "What on earth made you git 'em, Lucy Ann?" she asked. "Hit's awful early to be gittin' a new dress and hat, even ef they was suitable fer winter." "Mr. Claine was a sellin' out his left over thengs at cost," replied Miss Lucy, "and I thought I could wear 'em a good deal this fall, and then have 'em ready for next spreng." "What did you git _gray_ fer?" demanded Miss Nancy: "the idy of an old theng like you a wearin' gray!" An hour afterward, Miss Lucy sat in the sitting-room, hemming towels and talking to her cousin, Simeon Willis, who had brought their mail from the post-office: Mr. James was walking in the pasture field. Presently Miss Nancy came hurriedly into the room. "What you got your new dress and shoes, and hat, and parasol, and ever'theng laid out on the company-room bed fer, Lucy, like you was ready to start somewheres?" she queried, irritably. "Look's like you'd know enough to put 'em away where they wouldn't ketch dust!" "I'm a goin' to put 'em away after a while, Nancy," Miss Lucy flushed a little as she met her sister's suspicious eyes: "I jest laid 'em out to see how they looked. Any news, Simeon?" she asked to turn the subject. "Nothin' much," replied Mr. Willis: "I saw Lindsay in town. He's a goin' to raise a crop of tobacco next year for Archie Evans. Told me this mornin' he wuz a goin' to move his thengs there tomorrow in Archie's house the carpenter's have jest got done--a mighty fancy little house it is for a tenant house, too--and keep bachelor's hall, ef he couldn't do no better. He was buyin' a cook-stove and a bed-stid and some cheers and thengs today." Mr. Willis was not prepared for the result of this innocently imparted information. Without comment, Miss Lucy quitted the room, and picking up her egg basket, scurried off to the hens' nest at the barn. Miss Nancy sat recklessly back on the bed whose smoothness had hitherto never been disturbed in the daytime, and throwing her apron over her head, burst into passionate weeping. Mr. Willis gaped. "What on earth is the matter with you, Nancy?" Miss Nancy dropped the apron from her face and groaned dismally. "I don't want to live--ef he--ef he--"