"You have not told me where you are going. In this sparsely settled country one can never hope to live near anybody; but still," she went on comfortingly, "you might not be far away."
"I'm going to Appletop, where Uncle Job lives, but I have no idea where it is," I answered.
"Why, that is where we are going. How fine! You will be near us, and can come to me when you want anything—and you will come, anyway, I know, my dear?" she went on, pressing her cheek against mine.
"I will indeed," I replied, scarce able to restrain my tears.
"Well, now that we are to be neighbors, I am going to get acquainted with your Uncle Job, and make him promise to leave you with me when he is away. But come, I want you to get acquainted with my children"; and rising, she took my hand and led me across the room to the group she had left when I entered. "This is the young gentleman, my dears, I was telling you about when he came in just now," and she smiled as if expecting them to be as interested as herself. "This is my daughter Amelia, Gilbert," she went on, "and this is Viola, and this is the baby, Betty, though she is sixteen, and a pert miss, as you will find out when you come to know her," the sweet lady concluded, kissing her affectionately.
They were all fine-looking children, like their mother, with smiling faces and amiable manners, having about them the air of young people who have no thought beyond the present. Seating myself, I was overjoyed at being again in such company: for, as I may have told you, I have ever found my greatest pleasure in the society of women. Seated thus, it seemed a long time since I had felt the fragrance of their presence or listened to their gentle talk. Thus I was in the mood, ever more common to me than any other, to sit without speaking, and watch the faces of the dear creatures, and smile back my heart's response to their sweet ways and pretty speeches.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE SHADOWS OF LIFE
While occupied in the agreeable manner I have described, our little group was joined by a gentleman whom the lady welcomed as if he were a brother or dear friend—and not too heartily, I thought, for his person and manner were engaging in the extreme, and such as to attract and hold the attention of any one. Of commanding presence, and full of the glow and fire of life, his years sat so lightly upon him that he seemed only to have reached manhood, though he was in reality quite thirty years of age. Calling him to take a place by her side, he responded with pleasure, his high and noble features lighting up in response to her salutation and those of her children with so much animation and kindness that I was at once captivated by him, as in the case of Mr. Lincoln. When he was seated Mrs. Singleton spoke up, without preface of any kind, as was her way:
"Oh, Jefferson, I have had the queerest adventure! Something like a play at the theater, only a hundred times more exciting."