"Tesney," continued the man, "how would you like to live with me?"
"Well, sir, well," answered Tesney.
Mrs. Wakely now hurried from the house, having witnessed the misadventure of the ponycart.
"Oh, thank you, Mr. Bankner, thank you!" she cried. "The children are all right, are they not? Tesney is a good, brave girl, isn't she?"
"She is that, and more," replied the man, as he bowed and departed.
Tesney wore the ring, remembered the invitation, and renewed her hopes.
Three months from that day Tesney stood behind Aunt Agnes combing her hair while Agnes examined the ring. Agnes was about sixty years old, an ex-slave, a meddler, and liar. Her three hundred and fifty pounds kept her in her big arm-chair. There she made the coffee, beat the biscuits, abused the cook, lied to Mrs. Wakely, said the blessing, and urged all to live good Christian lives. She had nursed Tesney and knew her ancestry.
She called Tesney her daughter, and wished her for a daughter-in-law. Tesney was fond of Agnes, but scorned her son, who was unfit for any woman.
"Read, Aunt Agnes," said Tesney, "while I comb."
"No; you jes' stop combin' an' read."