"I wish to see her at once," said his wife.

"Shall I go and call her, madam?" Gid asked.

She gave him a look of surprise and answered: "No, I thank you."

"No trouble, I assure you," Gid persisted. "I am pleased to say that age
has not affected my voice, except to mellow it with more of reverence
when I address the wife of a noble man and the mother of a charming
girl."

She had dignity, but humor was never lost upon her, and she smiled. This
was encouraging, and old Gid proceeded: "I was just telling the Major of
my splendid prospects for a bountiful crop this year, and I feel that
with this blessing of Providence I shall soon be able to meet all my
obligations. I saw our rector, Mr. Mills, this morning, and he spoke of
how thankful I ought to be--he had just passed my bayou field--and I
told him that I would not only assert my gratitude, but would prove it
with a substantial donation to the church at the end of the season."

In the glance which she gave him there was refined and gentle contempt;
and then she looked down upon the decanter of whisky. Old Gideon drew
down the corners of his mouth, as was his wont when he strove to excite
compassion.

"Yes," he said with a note of pity forced upon his voice, "I am
exceedingly thankful for all the blessings that have come to me, but I
haven't been very well of late; rather feeble to-day, and the kind Major
noticing it, insisted upon my taking a little liquor, the medicine of
our sturdy and gallant fathers, madam."