her the moment she was out of his sight, and never suspecting how much importance she attached to his every word and look, construing into tokens of admiration the most casual remark, such as he would utter to any one.  This was of advantage to ’Lena, for, secure of their prize, both Mrs. Livingstone and Carrie, for a time, at least, ceased to persecute her, seldom speaking of her in Durward’s presence, and, as a general thing, acting as though she were not in existence.

John Jr., too, who had imposed upon himself the duty of watching his mother and sister, seeing no signs of hostility, now withdrew his espionage, amusing himself, instead, by galloping three times a week over to Frankfort, the home of Nellie Douglass, and by keeping an eye upon Captain Atherton, who, as a spider would watch a fly, was lying in wait for the unsuspecting Anna.

At last all was in readiness at Woodlawn for the reception of Mrs. Graham, who came up early in October, bringing with her a larger train of house servants than was often seen in Woodford county.  About three weeks after her arrival, invitations were issued for a party or “house warming,” as the negroes termed it.  Nero, Durward’s valet, brought the tiny notes to Mr. Livingstone’s, giving them into the care of Carrie, who took them immediately to her mother’s room.

“It’s Durward’s handwriting,” said she, glancing at the superscriptions, and reading as she did so—­“Mr. and Mrs. Livingstone”—­“Mr. John Livingstone, Jr.”—­“Miss Carrie Livingstone”—­“Miss Anna Livingstone”—­“Miss ’Lena Rivers;” and here she stopped, in utter dismay, continuing, as her mother looked up inquiringly—­“And as I live, one for grandma—­’MRS. MARTHA NICHOLS!’”

“Impossible!” exclaimed Mrs. Livingstone, reaching out her hand for the billet.  “Yes, ’tis Mrs. Martha Nichols!—­what can it mean?”

A peep behind the scenes would have told her what it meant.  For once in his life Mr. Graham had exercised the right of being master in his own house, declaring that if Mrs. Nichols were not invited with the family, there should be no party at all.  Mrs. Graham saw that he was in earnest, and yielded the point, knowing that in all probability the old lady would not be permitted to attend.  Her husband had expected a like opposition with regard to ’Lena, but he was disappointed, for his wife, forgetting her declaration that ’Lena should never darken her doors and thinking it would not do to slight her, consented that, on her uncle’s account, she should be invited.  Accordingly, the notes were despatched, producing the effect we have seen.

“How perfectly ridiculous to invite grandma!” said Carrie.  “It’s bad enough to have ’Lena stuck in with us, for of course she’ll go.”

“Why of course?” asked Mrs. Livingstone.  “The invitations are at my disposal now; and if I choose to withhold two of them, no one will be blamed but Nero, who was careless and dropped them!  ’Lena has nothing decent to wear, and I don’t feel like expending much more for a person so ungrateful as she is.  You ought to have heard how impudent she was that time you all went to Woodlawn.”