Mrs. Nichols looked on, silently thanking God for having made her an humble instrument in contributing so much to another’s happiness.
“Set down,” said Aunt Polly, motioning toward a wooden bottomed chair; “set down, and let’s us talk over this great meracle, which I’ve prayed and rastled for mighty nigh a hundred times, without havin’ an atom of faith that ’twould ever be.”
So Mrs. Nichols sat down, and for nearly an hour the old ladies talked, the one of her newly-found freedom, and the other of her happiness in knowing that “’twasn’t for nothin’ she was turned out of her old home and brought away over land and sea to Kentucky.”
CHAPTER XVII.
FRANKFORT.
Thursday morning came, bright, sunshiny and beautiful, and at about ten o’clock ’Lena, dressed and ready for her ride, came down to the parlor, where she found John Jr. listlessly leaning upon the table with his elbows, and drumming with his fingers.
“Come, cousin,” said she, “why are you not ready?”
“Ready for what?” he answered, without raising his head.
“Why, ready for our visit,” replied Lena, at the same time advancing nearer, to see what ailed him.
“All the visit I make to-day won’t hurt me, I reckon,” said he; pushing his hat a little more to one side and looking up at ’Lena, who, in some surprise, asked what he meant.
“I mean what I say,” was his ungracious answer; “I’ve no intention whatever of going to Frankfort.”