think again of Richard Harrington. It was a terrible blow to her
that he was blind, and talk as she might about the faintness of
the morning, old Rachel knew the real cause of her distress, and
when alone with her, said, by way of comfort,

"Law, now, Miss Grace, 'taint worth a while to take on so. Like
'nough he'll be cured--mebby it's nothin' but them fetch-ed water-
falls--CAT-A-RATS, that's it--and he can have 'em cut out. I
wouldn't go to actin' like I was love-sick for a man I 'scarded
oncet."

Grace was far too proud to suffer even her faithful Rachel thus to
address her, and turning her flashing eyes upon the old woman, she
said haughtily,

"How dare you talk to me in this way--don't you know I won't allow
it? Besides, what reason have you for asserting what you have?"

"What reason has I? Plenty reason--dis chile ain't a fool if she
is a nigger, raised in Georgy, and a born slave till she was
turned of thirty. Your poor marm who done sot me free, would never
spoke to me that way. What reason has I? I'se got good mem'ry--I
'members them letters I used to tote forrid and back, over thar in
England; and how you used to watch by the winder till you seen him
comin', and then, gal-like, ran off to make him think you wasn't
particular 'bout seein' him. But, it passes me, what made you have
ole money bags. I never could see inter that, when I knowd how you
hated his shiny bald head, and slunk away if he offered to tache
you with his old, soft, flappy hands. You are glad he's in Heaven,
yon know you be; and though I never said nothin', _I_ knowd you