“Mrs Keswick!” exclaimed Croft.  “Why, you must be mistaken, good aunty.  She can have no ill feelings towards me.”

“Don’ you b’lieve dat!” said the old woman.  “Don’ you b’lieve one word ob dat!  She hate you, sah, she hate you!  She not gwine to tell you dat.  She make you think she like you fus’ rate, an’ den de nex’ thing you knows, she kunjer you, an’ shribble up de siners ob your legs, an’ gib you mis’ry in your back, wot you neber git rid of no moh’.  Can’t tell you nuffin’ else now, for h’yar comes Miss Annie,” she added hurriedly, and, stepping to the bedside, she drew from under the mattrass a pair of little blue shoes, tied together by their strings.  “Jes’ you take dese h’yar shoes,” she said, “an’ ef eber you think ole miss gwine ter kunjer you, jes’ you hol’ up dem shoes right afore her face.  Dar now, stuff ’em in your pocket.  Don’ you tell Miss Annie wot I done say to you.  ’Member dat, sah.  It ud kill her, shuh.”

At this moment Mrs Null entered, just as the shoes had been slipped into the side-pocket of Mr Croft’s coat by the old woman.  And as she did so, she whispered, in a tone that could not but have its effect upon him, “Now, nebber tell her, honey.”

“Here is Eliza,” said Mrs Null, as she came in, followed by the great granddaughter.  “And I think,” she said to Mr Croft, “it is time for us to go.  Good-bye, Aunt Patsy.  You can send back the basket by Eliza.”

When the two left the cabin, Croft walked thoughtfully for a few moments, wondering what in the world the old woman could have meant by her strange words and gift to him.  Concluding, however, that they could have been nothing but the drivelings of weak-minded old age, he dismissed them from his mind and turned his attention to his companion.  “We were speaking,” he said, “of Mr Null.  Do you expect him shortly?”

“Well, no,” said the lady.  “I can’t say that I do.”

“That is odd,” said Lawrence.  “I thought this was your wedding journey.”

“So it is, in a measure,” said she, “but there is no necessity of his coming here.  Didn’t I tell you that my aunt was opposed to the marriage?” “But she might as well make up her mind to it now,” he said.

“She is not in the habit of making up her mind to things she don’t like.  Do you know,” she added, looking around with a half smile, as if she took pleasure in astonishing him, “that Aunt Keswick is going to try to have us divorced?”

“What!” exclaimed Croft.  “Divorced!  Is there any ground for it?”

“She has other matrimonial plans for me, that’s all.”

“What an extraordinary individual she must be!” he exclaimed.  “But she can never carry out such a ridiculous scheme as that.”

“I don’t know,” she said.  “She has already consulted Mr Brandon on the subject.”

“What nonsense!” cried Croft.  “If you and Mr Null are satisfied, nobody else has anything to do with it.”

“Mr Null and I are of one mind,” said she, “and agree perfectly.  But don’t you think it is a terrible thing to know you must always face an irritated aunt?”