“Law bless you, sir; it was not Master Ramsey as did it,” said Gray, with a broad grin.

“Who, then?  Whoever it was, it is all the same to me; I am pleased with the work, and willing to testify my approval by a liberal payment.”

“It was the same hand, sir, as made out the farm-books.”

“And who was that?”

“It was my nephew, Ishmael Worth, sir,” replied Reuben, with a little pardonable pride.

“Ishmael Worth again!” exclaimed the judge.

“Yes, sir; he done ’em both.”

“That is an intelligent lad of yours, Gray.”

“Well, sir, he is just a wonder.”

“How do you account for his being so different from—­from—­”

“From me and Hannah?” inquired the simple Reuben, helping the judge out of his difficulty.  “Well, sir, I s’pose as how his natur’ were diff’ent, and so he growed up diff’ent accordin’ to his natur’.  Human creeters differ like wegetables, sir; some one sort and some another.  Me and Hannah, sir, we’s like plain ’tatoes; but Ishmael, sir, is like a rich, bright blooming peach!  That’s the onliest way as I can explain it, sir.”

“A very satisfactory explanation, Gray!  How are Hannah and those wonderful twins?”

“Fine, sir; fine, thank Heaven!  Miss Claudia was so good as to send word as how she would come to see Hannah as soon as she was able to see company.  Now Hannah is able to-day, sir, and would be proud to see Miss Claudia and to show her the babbies.”

“Very well, Gray!  I will let my daughter know,” said the judge, rising from his chair.

Reuben took this as a hint that his departure was desirable, and so he made his bow and his exit.

In another moment, however, he reappeared, holding his hat in his hand and saying: 

“I beg your pardon, sir.”

“Well, what now? what is it, Gray?  What’s forgotten?”

“If you please, sir, to give my duty to Miss Claudia, and beg her not to let poor Hannah know as Ishmael has been so badly hurt.  When she missed him we told her how he was staying up here long of your honor, and she naturally thinks how he is a-doing some more liber-airy work for you; and we dar’n’t tell her any better or how the truth is, for fear of heaving of her back, sir.”

“Very well; I will caution Miss Merlin.”

“And I hope, sir, as you and Miss Claudia will pardon the liberty I take in mentioning of the matter; which I wouldn’t go for to do it, if poor Hannah’s safety were not involved.”

“Certainly, certainly, Gray, I can appreciate your feelings as a husband and father.”

“Thank your honor,” said Reuben, as he departed.

The judge kept his word to the overseer, and the same hour conveyed to his daughter the invitation and the caution.

Claudia was moped half to death, and desired nothing better than a little amusement.  So the same afternoon she set out on her walk to Woodside, followed by her own maid Mattie, carrying a large basket filled with fine laces, ribbons, and beads to deck the babies, and wines, cordials, and jellies to nourish the mother.