Every line ended with, the rising inflection of more than a hundred voices, followed by a pause in which the echoes repeated clearly the final sound.  The effect was weird, strange in the last degree, and, weary as he was, Scoville felt all his nerves tingling.

The meeting now broke up, to be followed by dancing and singing among the younger negroes.  Uncle Lusthah, Aun’ Jinkey, and many others crowded around Scoville and “the young mistis” to pay their respects.  Chunk and Zany, standing near, graciously accepted the honors showered upon them.  The officer speedily gave Miss Lou his arm and led her away.  When so distant as to be unobserved, he said in strong emphasis, “Miss Baron, I take off my hat to you.  Not to a princess would I pay such homage as to the woman who could wake the feeling with which these poor people regard you.”

She blushed with the deepest pleasure of her life, for she had been repressed and reprimanded so long that words of encouragement and praise were very sweet.  But she only said with a laugh, “Oh, come; don’t turn my poor bewildered head any more to-night.  I’m desperately anxious to have uncle and aunt think I’m a very mature young woman, but I know better and so do you.  Why, even Uncle Lusthah made me cry like a child.”

“Well, his words about you brought tears to my eyes, and so there’s a pair of us.”

“Oh!” she cried delightedly, giving his arm a slight pressure, “I didn’t know that you’d own up to that.  When I saw them I felt like laughing and crying at the same moment.  And so I do now—­it’s so delicious to be free and happy—­to feel that some one is honestly pleased with you.”

He looked upon her upturned face, still dewy from emotion, and wondered if the moon that night shone on a fairer object the world around.  It was indeed the face of a glad, happy child no longer depressed by woes a few hours old, nor fearful of what the next hour might bring.  Her look into his eyes was also that of a child, full of unbounded trust, now that her full confidence was won.  “You do indeed seem like a lovely child, Miss Baron, and old Uncle Lusthah told the whole truth about you.  Those simple folk are like children themselves and find people out by intuition.  If you were not good-hearted they would know it.  Well, I’m glad I’m not old myself.”

“But you’re going to be old—­awful old,” she replied, full of rippling laughter.  “Oh, wasn’t I glad to hear Uncle Lusthah pray over you! for if there is a God who takes any care of people, you will live to be as gray as he is.”

“If there is a God?”

“Oh, I’m a little heathen.  I couldn’t stand uncle or aunt’s God at all or believe in Him.  They made me feel that He existed just to approve of their words and ways, and to help them keep me miserable.  When I hear Uncle Lusthah he stirs me all up just as he did to-night; but then I’ve always been taught that he’s too ignorant—­ well, I don’t know.  Uncle and aunt made