“Leftenant,” said Perkins, the overseer, from the door, “Mr. Baron pr’sents his compliments en gives you a invite to supper.”

Scoville thought a moment, then answered, “Present mine in return, and say it will give me pleasure to accept.”

“Bress de Lawd! you gwine ter de big house.  Not dat I ’grudges cookin’ fer you w’eneber you come, but I des wants you ter took a ‘tunerty ter advise dat po’ chile ’bout she rights en de mar’age question.”

After assuring himself that the overseer was out of earshot, Scoville said almost sternly, “Aunt Jinkey, you and Chunk must not say one word of my ever having been here before.  It might make your young mistress a great deal of trouble, and I should be sorry indeed if I ever caused her any trouble whatever.”  Then as he made his way to the mansion he smilingly soliloquized, “I don’t know of any other question concerning which I would rather give her advice, nor would it be wholly disinterested, I fear, if I had a chance.  At this time to-morrow,” he sighingly concluded, “I may be miles away or dead.  Poor unsophisticated child!  I never was touched so close before as now by her need of a friend who cares more for her than his own schemes.”

Chunk following at a respectful distance became aware that the overseer was glowering at him.  “Bettah ‘lebe yo’ min’, Marse Perkins,” he remarked condescendingly.

“You infernal, horse-stealing nigger!” was the low response.

“Hi!  Marse Perkins, you kin growl, but you muzzled all de same.”

“The muzzle may be off before many mo’ sunsets, en then you’ll find my teeth in your throat,” said the man under his breath, and his look was so dark and vindictive that even in his elation Chunk became uneasy.

CHAPTER XV

MISS LOU EMANCIPATED

Nature had endowed Scoville with a quick, active mind, and circumstances had developed its power and capacity to a degree scarcely warranted by his age.  Orphaned early in life, compelled to hold his own among comparative strangers since childhood, he had gained a worldly wisdom and self-reliance which he could not have acquired in a sheltered home.  He had learned to look at facts and people squarely, to estimate values and character promptly, and then to decide upon his own action unhesitatingly.  Although never regarded as the model good boy at the boarding-schools wherein he had spent most of his life, he had been a general favorite with both teachers and scholars.  A certain frankness in mischief and buoyancy of spirit had carried him through all difficulties, while his apt mind and retentive memory always kept him near to the head of his classes.  The quality of alertness was one of his characteristics.  In schools and at the university he quickly mastered their small politics and prevailing tendencies, and he often amused his fellow-pupils with free-handed yet fairly truthful