The stranger entered; he looked at her, and she looked at him.
"Want anything?" he asked, at length.
She took courage and spoke.
"My name is Rachel," she said.
He said nothing.
"Rachel Gray," she resumed.
He looked at her steadily, but he was still silent.
"I am your daughter," she continued, in faltering accents.
"Well! I never said you was not;" he answered rather drily. "Come, you need not shake so; there's a chair there. Take it and at down."
Rachel obeyed; but she was so agitated that she could not utter one word. Her father looked at her for awhile, then resumed his work. Rachel did not speak—she literally could not. Words would have choked her; so it was Thomas Gray who opened the conversation.