jovial face.

"I don't see how she could help it if you stood in front of her," she
answered gravely, in a voice rich with the blending of negro
intonations.

The general shook again until the carriage creaked on its rusty
springs, and the coloured boy, Sampson, let the reins fall and joined in
the hilarity.

"She won't let me so much as look at a girl!" exclaimed the general
delightedly, stooping to recover the brown linen lap robe which had
slipped from his knees. "She's as jealous as if I were twenty and had a
score of sweethearts."

The little girl did not reply, but she flushed angrily. "Don't,
precious," she said to the puppy, who was licking her cheek with his
warm, red tongue.

"What have you named him, Eugie?" asked the judge, changing the subject
with that gracious tact which was mindful of the least emergency. "He is
nicely marked, I see."

"I call him Jim," replied Eugenia. She spoke gravely, and the gravity
contrasted oddly with the animation of her features. "But his real name
is James Burwell Battle. Bernard and I christened him in the
spring-house--so he'll go to heaven."

"Cap'n Burwell gave him to her, you know," explained the general, who
laughed whenever his daughter spoke, as if the fact of her talking at