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Updated: June 13, 2025
Carroll's own room on the south was dark. They reined their horses in and stood a moment. "Oh, Anthony, Anthony!" cried Isabel suddenly, "what is it? Is there no one there?" Anthony shook his head; and then put his tired beast to a shambling trot with Isabel silent again with weariness and disappointment behind him.
An' dat yere apun was a piece of ole Miss's night-cap. She used to have sights of 'em, and dey was all ruffled like to kill, an' made o' tambour work." Polly had already heard many times the story of Madame Carroll's night- caps, so she returned to the subject of the doll's beauty as a desirable change. "Do you want us to take this to Phronsie?" she asked. "Jasper, won't she be delighted?"
"I don't wonder you feel so." "Feel so! You asked me just now how I stood this sort of life. I believe my hate for that man keeps me up like a stimulant. I believe it keeps me up when I see other poor devils that I " Suddenly Arms reached out his hand and grasped Carroll's. "Good God! old fellow, I'm sorry for you!" he said. "You are too good for the dogs."
"Ain't nothin' to talk over." "You're William Barker, aren't you?" "I ain't said I ain't, have I?" Carroll's eyes grew a bit harder. His voice cracked out: "What's your name?" Barker met his gaze; then the eyes of the ex-valet shifted. "William Barker," he answered almost unintelligibly. "Very good! Now, sit down, William." William seated himself with ill grace.
"I don't wonder those old Greeks had their tales about nymphs closeted in trees," he thought, for the rustle of the green boughs had suggested the rustle of women's draperies. Then he remembered how Charlotte Carroll's skirts had rustled as she went out of the store that last afternoon when he had spoken to her.
Whether she was laughing at his arguments, agreeing with his theories, walking silently at his side through the woods, or watching the expressions that followed each other on his absorbed face, while he cleaned his gun or scrutinized the detached parts of Mrs. Carroll's coffee-mill, Susan followed him with eyes into which a new expression had crept.
"Why Sue why Sue!" The motherly arm was about her, she felt Mrs. Carroll's cheek against her hair. "Why, little girl, you musn't talk of failure at your age!" said Mrs. Carroll, tenderly. "I'll be twenty-six this fall," Susan said, wiping her eyes, "and I'm not started yet! I don't know how to begin.
No one in the little Kentucky village knew what had become of Arthur Carroll for some time, with the exception of an aunt of Mrs. Carroll's, who was possessed of some property and who lived there. She knew, but she told nothing, probably because she had a fierce pride of family.
When he returned to Nashville, it was to find that in a duel between Jesse Benton, his brother, and one Carroll, the general had acted as Carroll's second. A bitter quarrel between Jackson and the Bentons followed; before it ended, Jackson swore "by the Eternal" he would horsewhip Thomas Benton on sight. They met at a Nashville hotel.
But in one corner, where the meadows ceased, and Pat Carroll's land began, he met an old man whom he had known well in former years, named Con Heffernan. It was absolutely the case that he, the landlord, did not at the present moment know who occupied Pat Carroll's land, though he did know that he had received no rent for the last three years.
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