And amidst the laughter which this speech called forth the company
retired from the table. For some time past Mrs. Nichols had walked
with a cane, limping even then. Observing this, Mr. Graham, with his
usual gallantry, offered her his arm, which she willingly accepted,
casting a look of triumph upon her daughter-in-law, who apparently
was not so well pleased. So thorough had been grandma's training,
that she did not often venture into the parlor without a special
invitation from its mistress, but on this occasion, Mr. Graham led
her in there as a matter of course, and placing her upon the sofa,
seated himself by her side, and commenced questioning her concerning
her former home and history. Never in her life had Mrs. Nichols felt
more communicative, and never before had she so attentive a listener.
Particularly did he hang upon every word, when she told him of her
Helena, of her exceeding beauty, her untimely death, and rascally
husband.

"Rivers--Rivers," said he, "what kind of a looking man was he?"

"The Lord only knows--I never see him," returned Mrs. Nichols. "But
this much I do know, he was one scandalous villain, and if an old
woman's curses can do him any harm, he's had mine a plenty of times."

"You do wrong to talk so," said Mr. Graham, "for who knows how
bitterly he may have repented of the great wrong done to your
daughter."

"Then why in the name of common sense don't he hunt up her child, and
own her--he needn't be ashamed of 'Leny."