Mr Brandon looked down upon the floor of the porch, and smiled.  This was a pretty case, he thought, to put into his hands.  Here was a marriage which was the strongest protection in the promotion of his own plan, and he was asked to annul it.  “Very good,” thought Mr Brandon, “very good.”  And he smiled again.  But he was an old-fashioned gentleman, and not used to refuse requests made to him by ladies.  “I will look into it, madam,” said he.  “I will look into it, and see what can be done.”

“Something must be done,” said the old lady; “and the right thing too.  How long do you intend to stay here?”

“I thought of spending the night, madam, as my horse and myself are scarcely in condition to continue our journey to-day.”

“Stay as long as you like,” said Mrs Keswick.  “I turn nobody from my doors, even if they belong to the Brandon family.  I want you to talk to my niece, and get all you can out of her about this thing, and then you can go to work and blot out this contemptible marriage as soon as possible.”

“The first thing,” said Mr Brandon, “will be to talk to the lady.”

This reply being satisfactory to Mrs Keswick, Uncle Isham was called to take the horse and attend to him, while the master was invited into the house.

Mr Brandon first met Mrs Null at supper time, and her appearance very much pleased him.  “It is not likely,” he said to himself, “that the man lives who would willingly give up such a charming young creature as this.”  They were obliged to introduce themselves to each other, as the lady of the house had not yet appeared.  After a while Letty, who was in attendance, advised them to sit down as “de light bread an’ de batter-bread was gittin’ cole.”

“We could not think of such a thing as sitting at table before Mrs Keswick arrives,” said Mr Brandon.

“Oh, dar’s no knowin’ when she’ll come,” said the blooming Letty.  “She may be h’yar by breakfus time, but dar ain’t nobuddy in dis yere worl’ kin tell.  She’s down at de bahn now, blowin’ up Plez fur gwine to sleep when he was a shellin’ de cohnfiel’ peas.  An’ when she’s got froo wid him she’s got a bone to pick wid Uncle Isham ‘bout de gyardin’.  ’Tain’t no use waitin’ fur ole miss.  She nebber do come when de bell rings.  She come when she git ready, an’ not afore.”

Mr Brandon now felt quite sure that it was the intention of his hostess not to break bread with one of his family, and so he seated himself, Mrs Null taking the head of the table and pouring out the tea and coffee.

“It has been a long time, madam, since you were in this part of the country,” said the old gentleman, as he drew the smoking batter-bread toward him and began to cut it.

“Yes,” said Mrs Null, “not since I was a little girl.  I suppose you have heard, sir, that Aunt Keswick and my father were on very bad terms, and would not have anything to do with each other?”

“Oh, yes,” said Mr Brandon, “I have heard that.”