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Wall, in the chamber where they put me to sleep, was an old portrait, which looked so much like 'Leny that in the mornin' I asked whose it was, and if you b'lieve me, 'twas 'Leny's mother! You know she married, or thought she married, a southern rascal, who got her portrait taken and then run off, and the picter, which in its day was an expensive one, was sold to pay up.
Carrie, too, was touched, and with unwonted kindness she gathered up the scattered locks, and tying on the muslin cap, placed her hand for an instant on the wrinkled brow. "Keep it there; it feels soft, like 'Leny's," said Mrs. Nichols, the tears gushing out at this little act of sympathy. Meantime, Mr.
Livingstone returned each night, weary and disheartened, to his home, where all the day long his mother moaned and wept, asking for her 'Lena. At last, as day after day went by and brought no tidings of the wanderer, she ceased to ask for her, but whenever a stranger came to the house, she would whisper softly to them, "'Leny's dead.
Are you faintin', too," he exclaimed, as he saw the death-like whiteness which had settled upon Durward's face and around his mouth. "Tell me more, everything you know," gasped Durward. "I have told you all I know for certain," said Joel. "The rest is only guess-work, but it looks plaguy reasonable. 'Leny's father, I've heard was from South Car'lina " "So was Mr.
Nichols was packing up, she was busy helping her to stow away the "crockery," which the old lady declared should go, particularly the "blue set, which she'd had ever since the day but one before John was born, and which she intended as a part of 'Leny's settin' out. Then, too, John's wife could use 'em when she had a good deal of company; 'twould save buyin' new, and every little helped!"
'Strue as I live and breathe, Mas'r Bellmont," said he, "I done carried Miss 'Leny's invite with the rest, and guv 'em all to the young lady with the big nose!" Had Durward understood Mrs. Livingstone a little better, he might have believed him; but now it was but natural for him to suppose that Nero had accidentally dropped it. So he wrote another, taking it himself, and asking for "Miss Rivers."
Nichols would be with a picter of their old home in the mountains, I took it for 'em and started. In Albany I went to see a family that used to live in Slocumville. The woman was a gal with 'Leny's mother, and thought a sight of her.
The sound of the opening door aroused her, and looking up she said, pointing toward the vacant bed, "'Leny's gone; I've killed her." Corinda waited for no more, but darting through the hall and down the stairs, she rushed into the dining-room, announcing the startling news that "old miss had done murdered Miss 'Lena, and hid her under the bed!" "What will come next!" exclaimed Mrs.
"And ain't 'Leny's reputation as good as the best on 'em," asked Mrs. Nichols, her shriveled cheeks glowing with insulted pride. "It's the general opinion that it might be improved," was Mrs. Livingstone's haughty answer, as she left her mother-in-law to her own reflections. "It'll kill her stone dead," thought Mrs.
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