Rivers not aware of what was so completely occupying Penhallow’s mind, wondered later why he would not discuss the decision of the Supreme Court in the Dred Scott case and did not share his own indignation.  “But,” he urged, “it declares the Missouri Compromise not warranted by the Constitution!”

“I can’t talk about it, Mark,” said Penhallow, “I am too worried by my own affairs.”

Then Rivers asked no further questions; he hoped he would read the masterly dissenting opinion of Justices McLean and Curtis.  Penhallow returned impatiently that he had no time, and that the slavery question were better left to the decision of “Chief Justice Time.”

It was unlike the Squire, and Rivers perplexed and more or less ignorant concerning his friend’s affairs left him, in wonder that what was so angrily disturbing the Northern States should quite fail to interest Penhallow.

Meanwhile there were pleasant letters from Leila.  She thought it hard to be denied correspondence with John, and wrote of the satisfaction felt by her Uncle Henry and his friends in regard to the Dred Scott decision.  She had been wise enough to take her Uncle Charles’s advice and to hold her Republican tongue, as he with a minority in Baltimore was wisely doing.

The money crisis came with full force while the affairs of Kansas were troubling both North and South.  In August there was widespread ruin.  Banks failed, money was held hard, contracts were broken and to avoid a worse calamity the Penhallow mills discharged half of the men.  Meanwhile under Governor Walker’s just and firm rule, for a brief season ’Bleeding Kansas’ was no longer heard of.  To add to the confusion of parties, Douglas broke with the Administration and damaged the powerful Democratic machine when he came out with changed opinions and dauntless courage against the new Lecompton constitution.

In June Leila’s school life came to a close, and to the delight of her relations she came home.  When that afternoon Rivers came into the hall, a tall young woman rose of a sudden and swept him a curtsey, saying, “I am Leila Grey, sir.  Please to be glad to see me.”

“Good gracious, Leila!  You are a woman!”

“And what else should I be?”

“Alas! what?  My little friend and scholar—­oh! the evil magic of time.”

“Oh!  Friend—­friend!” she exclaimed, “then, now, and always.”  She gave him both hands.

“Yes, always,” he said quickly.  “And this,” he said to himself, “is the child who used to give me the morning kiss.  It is very wonderful!”

“I really think, Aunt Ann, that Mr. Rivers just for a moment did not know me.”

“Indeed!  That must have amused him.”

“Oh, here is James.”  There was laughter at dinner and a little gay venture into the politics of Leila’s school, which appeared to have been disagreeable to Miss Grey.

Rivers watched the animated face as she gave her account of how the school took a vote in the garden and were all Democrats.  The Squire a little puzzled by his wife’s evident disinclination to interfere with the dinner-table politics got a faint suspicion that here had come into Grey Pine a new and positive influence.  He was more surprised that Mrs. Ann asked, “What did you say, Leila?”