Peggy squatted on her heels, close to Aunt Judy’s side, and thus addressed her:  “Aun’ Judy, ef I tell you sumfin’, soul an’ honor, hope o’ glory, you’ll neber tell?”

“Hope o’ glory, neber!” said Aunt Judy, turning a look of interest on the girl.

“Well, den, look h’yar.  You know Miss Rob she got two beaux; one is Mahs’ Junius, an’ de udder is de gemman wid de speckle trousers from de Norf.”

“Yes, I know dat,” said Aunt Judy.  “Has dey fit?”

“Not yit, but dey wos gwine to,” said Peggy, “but I seed ’em, an’ I tore down de road to de gate whar dey wos gittin ready to fight, an’ I jes’ let dat dar Mister Crof’ know wot low-down white trash Miss Rob think he wos, an’ den he said ef dat war so ‘twant no use fur to come in, an’ he turn’ roun’ de buggy, an’ cl’ar’d out.  Den Mahs’ Junius he come to de house, an’ dar Miss Rob in de parlor waitin’ fur him.  I stood jes’ outside de doh’, so’s to be out de way, but Mahs’ Junius he kinder back agin de doh’, an’ shet it.  But I clap’d my year ter de crack, an’ I hear eberything dey said.”

“Wot dey say?” asked Aunt Judy, her mouth open, her eyes dilated, and the long ladle trembling in her hand.

“Mahs’ Junius he say to Miss Rob that he lub her better’n his own skin, or de clouds in de sky, or de flowers in de fiel’ wot perish, an’ dat de udder man he done cut an’ run, an’ would she be Miss Junius all de res’ ob der libes foreber an’ eber, amen?”

“Dat wos pow’ful movin’!” ejaculated Aunt Judy.  “An’ wot did Miss Rob say?”

“Miss Rob she say, ’I ‘cept your kind offer, sah, wid pleasure.’  An’ den I hearn ’em comin’, an’ I cut down h’yar.”

“Glory!  Hallelujah!” exclaimed Aunt Judy, bringing her ladle down upon the brick hearth.  “Now is I ready to die when my time comes, fur Mahs’ Junius ‘ll have dis farm, an’ de house, an’ de cabins, an’ dey won’t go to no strahnger from de Norf.”

“Amen,” said Peggy.  “An’ Aun’ Judy, dat ar piece ob pie ain’t no ’count to nobuddy.”

“You kin hab it, chile,” said Aunt Judy, rising, and taking from a shelf a large piece of cold apple pie, “an’ bressed be de foots ob dem wot fotch good tidin’s.”

Junius Keswick did not see Miss Roberta again that day, and early in the morning he borrowed one of the Midbranch horses, and rode away.  He did not wish to be at the house when Mr Croft should come; and, besides, he was very anxious and disturbed in regard to matters at the Keswick farm.  Of all places in the world why should Mr Brandon go there?

It was not a very pleasant ride that Junius Keswick took that morning.  He had anxieties in regard to what he would meet with at his aunt’s house, and he had even greater anxieties as to what he was leaving behind him at Midbranch.  It was quite evident that Roberta was angry with him, and this was enough to sadden the soul of a man who loved her as he loved her, who would have married her at any moment, in spite of all opposition, all threats, all curses.  He was not in the habit of looking at himself after the manner of Lawrence Croft, but on this occasion he could not help a little self-survey.