The old woman was shrewd and intelligent in her way. She foresaw trouble, and perhaps the bitterest sorrow from these two meetings between the handsome guest of John Glenalvan and the young mistress. "Black mammy, promise me you will not tell grandpa," Golden pleaded. "I will do anything you ask me if only you will not tell him." Thereupon Dinah announced her ultimatum. "If you will promise me never to speak to the strange gentleman again, little missie, I will not tell ole massa." Golden opened wide her blue eyes. She looked very lovely as she leaned back among the snowy, ruffled pillows, her golden hair straying loosely about her shoulders, her cheeks tinted with a deep, warm blush, her little hands nervously clasping and unclasping each other. "Black mammy, I think you are very cross to-night," she pouted. "Why should I never speak to the handsome gentleman again?" "Because it's best for you. Ole brack mammy knows better dan you, chile." "But I liked him so much," said Golden, blushing rosy red. "You had no business to like him," responded Dinah. "He's to marry Miss Elinor." "I do not believe it," said Golden, quickly. "He's not for you, anyway," retorted Dinah. "You'll nebber marry no one, my dear." "Why not?" asked the child. "Will nobody ever love me?" "Nobody'll ever love ye like your grandpa, honey, and 'taint likely dat ever he will give ye away to anyone." Golden was silent a moment. She seemed to be thinking intently. After a moment she said gravely and sadly: "Grandpa is old, and I am young. Who will take care of me when he is gone?" "Your old brack mammy, I guess, honey." "You are old, too," said Golden. "You may not live as long as I do." "Bless the chile's heart, how she _do_ talk," said the old negress. "Ah, my precious lamb, I has outlived dem as was younger and fairer dan ole black Dinah." The old black face looked very sad for a moment, then Dinah continued: "Little missie, it's my clair duty to tell old massa de sarcumstances of the case to-morrow morning. Leastwise, unless you promise me nebber to speak to dat man ag'in." "That is very hard," sighed Golden. "Hard," said Dinah. "I should think you would be so mad at the wilyun, a-comin' in and kissin' you so unceremonious, dat you would nebber want to speak to him any more." Golden hid her face in the pillows, and a deep sigh fluttered over her lips. "Come, dearie, won't you promise?" said Dinah. "I knows what's for your good better dan you does yourself, chile." "Must I promise it, indeed?" sighed the innocent child, lifting her flushed face from the pillow a moment to fix her big, blue, imploring eyes on the old woman's obdurate face. "Yes, you must sartainly promise it," was the uncompromising reply. There was silence for a moment, and Dinah saw the tears come into the sweet, blue eyes. "Honey, chile, does you promise me?" she inquired, only confirmed in the opinion by this demonstration.