“My conscience was very much pleased with me,” was the answer.  “What I did was a stratagem, and perfectly fair too.  If I had found that it was right for you to see Junius, I would have done everything I could to help you communicate with him.  But when I did at last see him, down you swooped upon us before I had an opportunity of saying a word about you.”

“Your marriage was a very fortunate thing for you,” said Mr Croft, “for if it had not been for that I should never have allowed you to go about the country looking up a gentleman in my behalf.  But how did you get over your repugnance to your aunt?”

“I didn’t get over it,” she said, “I conquered it, for I found that this was the most likely place to meet Junius.  And Aunt Keswick has certainly treated me in the kindest manner, although she is very angry about Mr Null.  But when I first came and she did not know who I was, she behaved in the most extraordinary manner.”

“What did she do?” asked Croft.

“Never you mind,” she answered, with a little laugh.  “You can’t expect to know all the family affairs.”

They had now arrived at Aunt Patsy’s cabin, and Mrs Null entered, followed at a little distance by Croft.  The old woman had seen them as they were walking along the road, and her little black eyes sparkled with peculiar animation behind her great spectacles.  Her granddaughter happened not to be at home, but Aunt Patsy got up, and with her apron rubbed off the bottoms of two chairs, which she placed in convenient positions for her expected visitors.  When they came in they found her in a very perturbed condition.  She answered Mrs Null’s questions with a very few words and a great many grunts, and kept her eyes fixed nearly all the time upon Mr Croft, endeavoring to find out, perhaps, if he had yet been subjected to any kind of conjuring.

When all the questions which young people generally put to old servants had been asked by Mrs Null, and Croft had made as many remarks as might have been expected of him in regard to the age and recollections of this interesting old negress, Aunt Patsy began to be much more disturbed, fearing that the interview was about to come to an end.  She actually got up and went to the back door to look for Eliza.

“Do you want her?” anxiously inquired Mrs Null, going to the old woman’s side.

“Yaas, I wants her,” said Aunt Patsy.  “I ‘spec’ she at Aggy’s house—­dat cabin ober dar—­but I can’t holler loud ’nuf to make her h’yere me.”  “I’ll run over there and tell her you want her,” said Mrs Null, stepping out of the door.

“Dat’s a good chile,” said Aunt Patsy, with more warmth than she had yet exhibited.  “Dat’s your own mudder’s good chile!” And then she turned quickly into the room.

Croft had risen as if he were about to follow Mrs Null, or, at least, to see where she had gone.  But Aunt Patsy stopped him.  “Jus’ you stay h’yar one little minute,” she said, hurriedly.  “I got one word to say to you, sah.”  And she stood up before him as erect as she could, fixing her great spectacles directly upon him.  “You look out, sah, fur ole miss,” she said, in a voice, naturally shrill, but now heavily handicapped by age and emotion, “ole Miss Keswick, I means.  She boun’ to do you harm, sah.  She tole me so wid her own mouf.”