The squire's family consisted of his wife, a kindly, bustling little old
dame, who managed everything and everybody, including the squire, with a
single exception. This was her granddaughter, Euphronia Tripper, a plump
and fresh young girl with light hair, a fair skin, and bright
eyes. The squire laid down the law to those about him, but Mrs.
Rawson--"Elizy"-laid down the law for him. This the old fellow was ready
enough to admit. Sometimes he had a comical gleam in his deep eyes when
he turned them on his guests as he rose at her call of "Adam, I
want you."

"Boys, learn to obey promptly," he said; "saves a sight o' trouble. It's
better in the family 'n a melojeon. It's got to come sooner or later,
and the sooner the better for you. The difference between me and most
married men around here is that they lies about it, and I don't. I know
I belongs to Eliza. She owns me, but then she treats me well. I'm sort
o' meek when she's around, but then I make up for it by bein' so durned
independent when I'm away from home. Besides, it's a good deal better to
be ordered about by somebody as keers for you than not to have anybody
in the world as keers whether you come or stay."

Besides Mrs. Rawson, there were in the family a widowed daughter, Mrs.
Tripper, a long, pale, thin woman, with sad eyes, who had once been
pretty, and her daughter Euphronia, already referred to, who, in right
of being very pretty, was the old squire's idol and was never thwarted
in anything. She was, in consequence, a spoiled little damsel,
self-willed, very vain, and as susceptible as a chameleon. The ease with
which she could turn her family around her finger gave her a certain
contempt for them. At first she was quite enamoured of the young
engineer; but Mr. Rhodes was too busy to give any thought to a girl whom