"Des' look at her!" exclaimed Aunt Verbeny at the girl's entrance. "Ain't she a sight ter mek a blin' man see?" Then she added to the strange little woman, "Dar ain' no lack er beaux roun' yer, needer." Uncle Ish grunted. "I ain' seen 'em swum es dey swum roun' Miss Meely," he muttered, while Aunt Verbeny shook her fist at him behind the stranger's back. "De a'r wuz right thick wid 'em." "I reckon dis chile'll be mah'r'd soon es she sets her min' on it," returned Delphy indignantly. "She ain' gwineter have ter do much cuttin' er de eyelashes, needer. De beaux come natch'ul." "Dar's Marse Dudley, now," said Aunt Verbeny. "I ain' so ole but my palate hit kin taste a gent'mun a mile off. Marse Dudley ain' furgit de times I'se done roas' him roas'in' years when he warn' mo'n er chile. Hit's 'how's yo' health, Aunt Verbeny?' des' de same es 'twuz den." Eugenia laughed and flung the heap of garments into Delphy's arms. "The rain's over," she said; "but, Uncle Ish, you'd better get Congo to fix you up for the night. It is too wet for your rheumatism," and she ran singing upstairs to where the general was dozing in the sitting-room. "Wake up, dad! it's going to clear!" The general started heavily from his sleep. There was a dazed look in his eyes. "Clear?" he asked doubtfully, "has it been raining?" Eugenia shook him into consciousness. "Raining for three whole days, and I believe you've slept through it. Now the clouds are breaking." "What is it the Bible says about 'the winter of our discontent'?--that's what it is." "Not the Bible, dear--Shakespeare." "It's the same thing," retorted the general testily. His speech came thickly as if he held a pebble in his mouth, and the swollen veins in his face were livid. Eugenia bent over him in sudden uneasiness. "Aren't you well, papa?" she asked. "Is anything the matter?" The general laughed and pinched her cheek. "Never better in my life," he declared, "but I'll have to be getting new glasses. These things aren't worth a cent. Find them, Eugie." Eugenia picked them up, wiped them on his silk handkerchief, and put them on his nose. "You've slept too long," she said. "Come and take a walk in the hall." She dragged him from his chair, and he yielded under protest. "You forget that two hundred pounds can't skip about like fifty," he complained. But he followed her to the long hall, and they paced slowly up and down in the afternoon shadows. At the end of ten minutes the general declared that he felt so well he would go back to his chair. "I'll get the 'Southern Planter' and read to you," said Eugenia. "Don't go to sleep." She ran lightly upstairs and, coming down in a moment, called him. He did not answer and she called again. The sitting-room was in dusk, and, as she entered, the firelight showed the huge body of the general lying upon the hearth rug. A sound of heavy snoring filled the room.