Old Mr Brandon of Midbranch was not in a very happy frame of mind, and he had good reasons for dissatisfaction. He was an ardent supporter of a marriage between his niece and Junius Keswick; and when the engagement had been broken off he had considered that both these young people had acted in a manner very foolish and contrary to their best interests. There was no opposition to the match except from old Mrs Keswick, who was the aunt of Junius, but who considered herself as occupying the position of a mother. Junius was the son of a sister who had also married into the Keswick family, and his parents having died while he was a boy, his aunt had taken him under her charge, and her house had then became his home; although of late years some of his absences had been long ones. Mrs Keswick had no personal objections to Roberta, never having seen that lady, and knowing little of her; but an alliance between her Junius and any member of that branch of the Brandons, "which," to use the old lady's own words, "had for four generations cheated, stripped, and scornfully used my people, scattering their atoms over the face of three counties," was monstrous. Nothing could make her consent to such an enormity, and she had informed Junius that if he married that March girl three of them should live together—himself, his wife, and her undying curse. In order that Miss March might not fail to hear of this post-connubial arrangement, she had been informed of it by letter. Of course this had broken off the engagement, for Roberta would not live under a curse, nor would she tear a man from the only near relative he had in the world. Keswick himself, like most men, would have been willing to have this tearing take place for the sake of uniting himself to such a charming creature as Roberta March. But the lady on one side was as inflexible as the lady on the other, and the engagement was definitely and absolutely ended.

Mr Brandon considered all this as stuff and nonsense. He could not deny that his branch of the Brandons had certainly got a good deal out of Mrs Keswick's family. But here was a chance to make everything all right again, and he would be delighted to see Junius, a relative, although a distant one, come into possession of Midbranch. As for the old lady's opposition, that should not be considered at all, he thought. It was his opinion that her mind had been twisted by her bad temper, and nothing she could say could hurt anybody.

Of late Mr Brandon had been much encouraged by the fact that Junius had begun to resume his position as a friend of the family. This was all very well. If the young people, by occasional meetings, could keep alive their sentiments toward each other, the time would come when all opposition would cease, and the marriage would become an assured fact. He did not believe either of the young people would care enough for a post-mortem curse, if there should be one, to keep themselves separated from each other on its account for the rest of their lives.

But the recent quite unexpected return of Lawrence Croft to Midbranch, combined with the evident discomposure into which Roberta had been thrown by his failure to come the next day, had given the old gentleman some unpleasant ideas. His niece had mentioned that she expected Mr Croft that day, and although she said nothing in regard to her subsequent disappointment and vexation, his mind was quite acute enough to perceive it. Exactly what it all meant he knew not, but it augured danger. For the first time he began to look upon Mr Croft in the light of a suitor for Roberta. If a jealous feeling at finding another person on the ground was the cause of his not coming again, it showed that he was in earnest, and this, added to the evident disturbance of mind of both Roberta and Junius, was enough to give Mr Brandon most serious fears that an obstacle to his cherished plan was arising. Roberta was fond of city life, of society, of travel, and if she had really made up her mind that her union with Junius was no longer to be thought of, the advent of a man like Croft, who had been making her acquaintance all summer, and who had now returned to Virginia, no doubt for the sole purpose of seeing her again was, to say the least, exceedingly ominous. One thing only could correct this deplorable state of affairs. The absurd bar to the union of Junius and Roberta should be removed, and they should be allowed to enter upon the happiness that was their right.

Above all, the estate of Midbranch should not be suffered to go into the possession of an outsider, who might be good enough, but who was of no earthly moment or interest to the Brandons. He would go himself, and see the widow Keswick, and talk her out of her nonsense. It was a long time since he had met the old wild cat, as he termed her, and his recollection of the last interview was not pleasant, but he was not afraid of her, and he hoped that the common sense of what he would say would bring her to reason.

Mr Brandon made up his mind during the night; and when he came down to breakfast he was very glad to find that Junius had already gone out for a walk. The distance to the widow Keswick's house was about fifteen miles, a pleasant day's ride for the old gentleman, and as he did not expect to return until the next day, he felt obliged to inform Roberta of his destination, although, of course, he said nothing about the object of his visit. He told his niece that he was obliged to see the widow Keswick on business, to which remark she listened without reply.

Soon after breakfast he mounted his good horse, Albemarle, and early in the afternoon he arrived at the widow Keswick's gate. He had looked for a stormy reception, in which the thunder-bolts of rage should burst around him, and he was surprised, therefore, to be received with the frigidity of the North Pole.

"I never expected," she said, without any previous courtesy, "to see one of your people under my roof, and it is not very long ago since I would have gone away from it the moment any one of you came near it."

"I am happy, madam," said Mr Brandon, in his most courteous manner, "that that day is past."

"My staying won't do you any good," said the old lady, whose purple sun-bonnet seemed to heave with the uprisal of her hair, "except, perhaps, to get you a better meal than the servants would have given you. But I want a lawyer, and I can't afford to pay for one either, and when I saw you coming I just made up my mind to get something out of you, and if I do it, it'll be the first red mark for my side of the family."

Mr Brandon assured her that nothing would give him more pleasure than to assist her in any way in his power.

"Very well, then," said Mrs Keswick, "just sit down on that bench, and, when we have got through, your horse can be taken, and you can rest a while, though it seems a very curious thing that you should want to stop here to rest."

"Well, madam," said Mr Brandon, seating himself as comfortably as possible on a wooden bench, "I shall be happy to hear anything you have to say."

The old lady did not sit down, but stood up in front of him, leaning on her umbrella, with which faithful companion she had been about to set out on her walk. "When my son Junius came home a while ago—" she began.

"Do you still call him your son?" interrupted Mr Brandon.

"Indeed I do!" was the very prompt answer. "That's just what he is. And, as I was going to say, when he wrote me a short time ago that he was coming here, I believed, from his letter, that he had some scheme on hand in regard to your niece, and I made up my mind I wouldn't stay in the house to hear anything more said on that subject. I had told him that I never wanted him to say another word about it; and it made my blood boil, sir, to think that he had come again to try to cozen me into the vile compact."

"Madam!" exclaimed Mr Brandon.

"The next day," continued Mrs Keswick, "a lady arrived; and as soon as I saw her drive into the gate I felt sure it was Roberta March, and that the two had hatched up a plot to come and work on my feelings, and so I wouldn't come near the house."

"Madam!" exclaimed Mr Brandon, "how could you dream such a thing of my niece? You don't know her, madam."

"No," said the old lady, "I don't know her, but I knew she belonged to your family, and so I was not to be surprised at anything she did. But I found out I was mistaken. An old negro woman recognized this young person as the daughter of my younger sister you know there were three of us. The child was born and raised here, but I have not seen and have scarcely heard of her since she was eight years old."

"That's very extraordinary, madam," said Mr Brandon.

"No, it isn't, when you consider the stubbornness, the obstinacy, and the wickedness of some people. My sister sickened when the child was about six years old, and her husband, Harvey Peyton—"

"I have frequently heard of him, madam," said Mr Brandon.

"And I wish I never had," said she. "Well, he was travelling most of the time, a thing my sister couldn't do; but he came here then and stayed, off and on, till she died. And not long afterward, just because I told him that I intended to consider the child as my child, and that she should have the name of Keswick instead of his name, and should know me as her mother, and live with me always, he got angry and flared up, and actually took the child away. I gave it to him hot, I can tell you, before he left, and I never saw him again. He was so eaten up with rage because I wanted to take the little Annie for my own, that he filled her mind with such prejudices against me that when he died a year or two ago, she actually went to work to get her own living instead of applying to me for help. But now she has come down here, and I was really filled with joy to have her again and carry out the plan on which my heart had long been set—that is to marry her to her cousin Junius, and let them have this farm when I am gone,——?"

At this Mr Brandon raised his eyebrows, and lowered the corners of his mouth.

"But I suddenly discover," continued the old, lady, "that the little wretch is married—actually married."

At this Mr Brandon lowered his eyebrows and raised the corners of his mouth. "Did her husband come with her?" he asked, pleasantly. And he gave a few long, free breaths as if he had just passed in safety a very dangerous and unsuspected rock.

"No, he didn't," replied the old lady. "I don't know where he is, and, from what I can make out, he is an utterly good-for-nothing fellow, allowing his wife to go where she pleases, and take care of herself. Now this abominable marriage stands square in the way of the plan which again rose up in my mind the moment I heard that the girl was in my house. If Junius and she should marry, there would be no more dangers for me to look out for."

"But the existence of a husband," said Mr Brandon blandly, "puts an end to all thoughts of such an alliance."

"No it don't," said the old lady, bringing her umbrella down with force on the porch. "Not a bit of it. Such an outrageous marriage should not be suffered to exist. They should be divorced. He does nothing for her, and neglects and deserts her absolutely. There's every ground for a divorce, or enough grounds, at any rate. All that's necessary is for a lawyer to take it up. I don't know any lawyers, and when I saw you riding up from the road gate I said to myself: 'Here's the very man I want,—and it's full time I should get something from people who have taken nearly everything from me.'"

Mr Brandon bowed.

"And now," continued the old lady, "I am going to put the case into your hands. The man is, evidently, a good-for-nothing scoundrel, and has probably spent the little money that her miserable father left her. It's a clear case of desertion, and there should be no trouble at all in getting the divorce."

Mr Brandon looked down upon the floor of the porch, and smiled. This was a pretty case, he thought, to put into his hands. Here was a marriage which was the strongest protection in the promotion of his own plan, and he was asked to annul it. "Very good," thought Mr Brandon, "very good." And he smiled again. But he was an old-fashioned gentleman, and not used to refuse requests made to him by ladies. "I will look into it, madam," said he. "I will look into it, and see what can be done."

"Something must be done," said the old lady; "and the right thing too.
How long do you intend to stay here?"

"I thought of spending the night, madam, as my horse and myself are scarcely in condition to continue our journey to-day."

"Stay as long as you like," said Mrs Keswick. "I turn nobody from my doors, even if they belong to the Brandon family. I want you to talk to my niece, and get all you can out of her about this thing, and then you can go to work and blot out this contemptible marriage as soon as possible."

"The first thing," said Mr Brandon, "will be to talk to the lady."

This reply being satisfactory to Mrs Keswick, Uncle Isham was called to take the horse and attend to him, while the master was invited into the house.

Mr Brandon first met Mrs Null at supper time, and her appearance very much pleased him. "It is not likely," he said to himself, "that the man lives who would willingly give up such a charming young creature as this." They were obliged to introduce themselves to each other, as the lady of the house had not yet appeared. After a while Letty, who was in attendance, advised them to sit down as "de light bread an' de batter-bread was gittin' cole."

"We could not think of such a thing as sitting at table before Mrs
Keswick arrives," said Mr Brandon.

"Oh, dar's no knowin' when she'll come," said the blooming Letty. "She may be h'yar by breakfus time, but dar ain't nobuddy in dis yere worl' kin tell. She's down at de bahn now, blowin' up Plez fur gwine to sleep when he was a shellin' de cohnfiel' peas. An' when she's got froo wid him she's got a bone to pick wid Uncle Isham 'bout de gyardin'. 'Tain't no use waitin' fur ole miss. She nebber do come when de bell rings. She come when she git ready, an' not afore."

Mr Brandon now felt quite sure that it was the intention of his hostess not to break bread with one of his family, and so he seated himself, Mrs Null taking the head of the table and pouring out the tea and coffee.

"It has been a long time, madam, since you were in this part of the country," said the old gentleman, as he drew the smoking batter-bread toward him and began to cut it.

"Yes," said Mrs Null, "not since I was a little girl. I suppose you have heard, sir, that Aunt Keswick and my father were on very bad terms, and would not have anything to do with each other?"

"Oh, yes," said Mr Brandon, "I have heard that."

"But my father is not living now, and I am down here again."

"And your husband? He did not accompany you?" said Mr Brandon.

"No," replied Mrs Null, very quickly. "We were both very sorry that it was not possible for him to come with me."

Mr Brandon's spirits began to rise. This did not look quite like desertion. "I have no doubt you have a very good husband. I am sure you deserve such a one," he said with the air of a father, and the purpose of a lawyer.

"Good!" exclaimed Mrs Null, her eyes sparkling.

"He couldn't be better if he tried! Will you have sweet milk, or buttermilk?"

"Buttermilk, if you please," said Mr Brandon. "Of course your aunt was delighted to have you with her again."

"Oh," said Mrs Null, with a laugh, "she was not at home when I arrived, but when she returned nothing could be too good for me. Why, she had been here scarcely half an hour, and hadn't taken off her sun-bonnet, before she told me I was to marry Junius and we two were to have this farm."

"A very pleasant plan, truly," said Mr Brandon.

"But then, you see," continued the young girl, "Mr Null stood dreadfully in the way of such an arrangement; and when Aunt Keswick heard about him you can't imagine what a change came over her."

"Oh, yes I can; yes I can," exclaimed Mr Brandon—"I can imagine it very well."

"But she didn't give up a bit," said Mrs Null. "I don't think she ever does give up."

"You are right, there," said Mr Brandon, "quite right. But what does she propose to do?"

"I don't know, I'm sure; but she said I had no right to marry without the consent of my surviving relatives, and that she was going to look into it. I can't think what she means by that."

Mr Brandon made no immediate answer. He gave Mrs Null some damson preserves, and he took some himself, and then he helped himself to a great hot roll, from a plate that Letty had just brought in, and carefully opening it he buttered it on the inside, and covered one-half of it with the damson preserves. This he began slowly to eat, drinking at times from the foaming glass of buttermilk at the side of his plate, from which the coffee-cup had been removed. When he had finished the half roll he again spoke. "I think, my dear young lady, that your aunt is desirous of having your marriage set aside."

"How can she do that?" exclaimed the girl, her face flushing. "Has she been talking to you about it?"

"I cannot deny that she has spoken to me on the subject," he answered, "I being a lawyer. But I will say to you, in strict confidence, please, that if you and your husband are sincerely attached to each other there is nothing on earth she can do to separate you."

"Attached!" exclaimed Mrs Null. "It would be impossible for us to be more attached than we are. We never have had the slightest difference, even of opinion, since our wedding day. Why, I believe that we are more like one person than any married couple in the world."

"I am very glad to hear it," said Mr Brandon, finishing his buttermilk—"very glad indeed. And, feeling as you do, I am certain that nothing your aunt can say will make any impression on you in regard to seeking a divorce."

"I should think not!" said Mrs Null, sitting up very straight. "Divorce indeed!"

"I fully uphold you in the stand you have taken," said Mr Brandon. "But I beg you will not mention this conversation to your aunt. It would only annoy her. Is your cousin expected here shortly?"

"I believe so," she said. "To be sure, my aunt left the house the last time he came, but she has his address, and has written for him. I think she wants us to get acquainted as soon as possible, so that no time will be lost in marrying us after poor Mr Null is disposed of."

"Very good, very good," said Mr Brandon with a laugh. "And now, my dear young friend, I want to give you a piece of advice. Stay here as long as you can. Your aunt will soon perceive the absurdity of her ideas in regard to your husband, and will cease to annoy you. Make a friend of your cousin Junius, whom I know and respect highly; and he certainly will be of advantage to you. Above all things, endeavor to thoroughly reconcile him and Mrs Keswick, so that she will cease to oppose his wishes, and to interfere with his future fortune. If you can bring back good feeling between these two, you will be the angel of the family."

"Thank you," said Mrs Null, as they rose from the table.

The next morning, after Mr Brandon and Mrs Null had breakfasted together, the mistress of the house, having apparently finished the performance of the duties which had kept her from the breakfast-table, had some conversation with her visitor. In this he repeated very little of what he had said to the younger lady the night before, but he assured Mrs Keswick that he had discovered that it would be a very delicate thing to propose to her niece a divorce from her husband, a thing to which she was not at all inclined, as he had found.

"Of course not! of course not!" exclaimed Mrs Keswick. "She can't be expected to see what a wretched plight she has got herself into by marrying this straggler from nobody knows where."

"But, madam," said Mr Brandon, "if you worry her about it, she will leave you, and then all will be at an end. Now, let me advise you as your lawyer. Keep her here as long as you can. Do everything possible to foster friendship and good feeling between her and Junius; and to do this you must forget as far as possible all that has gone by, and be friendly with both of them yourself."

"Humph!" said the widow Keswick. "I didn't ask you for advice of that sort."

"It is all a part of the successful working of the case, madam," said Mr Brandon. "A thorough good feeling must be established before anything else can be done."

"I suppose so," said the old lady. "She must learn to like us before she begins to hate him. And how about your niece? Are you going to send her down here to help on in the good feeling?"

"I have not brought my niece into this affair," replied Mr Brandon, with dignity.

"Well, then, see that you don't," was the widow Keswick's reply. And the interview terminated.

When Mr Brandon rode away on his good horse Albemarle, he looked at the post of the road gate from which he was lifting the latch by means of the long wooden handle arranged for the convenience of riders, and said to himself: "John Keswick was a good man, but I don't wonder he came out here and shot himself. It is a great pity though that it wasn't his wife who did it, instead of him. That would have been a blessing to all of us. But," he added, contemplatively, as he closed the gate, "the people in this world who ought to blow out their brains, never do."

Soon after he had gone, Mrs Null went up Pine Top Hill, and sat down on the rock to have a "think." "Now, then, Freddy," she said, "everything depends on you. If you don't stand by me I am lost—that is to say, I must go away from here before Junius comes; and you know I don't want to do that. I want to see him on my account, and on his account too; but I don't want him crammed down my throat for a husband the moment he arrives, and that is just what will happen if you don't do your duty, Mr Null. Even if it wasn't for you, I don't want to look at him from the husband point of view, because, of course, he is a very different person from what he used to be, and is a total stranger to me.

"It is actually more than twelve years since I have seen him, and besides that, he is just as good as engaged to that niece of Mr Brandon's, who is a horrible mixture of a she-wolf and a female mule, if I am to believe Aunt Keswick, but I expect she is, truly, a very nice girl. Though, to be sure, she can't have much spirit if she consented to break off her marriage just on account of the back-handed benediction which Aunt Keswick told me she offered her as a wedding gift. If I had wanted to marry a man I would have let the old lady curse the heels off her boots before I would have paid any attention to her. Cursing don't hurt anybody but the curser.

"What I want of Junius is to make a friend of him, if he turns out to be the right kind of a person, and to tell him about this Mr Croft who is so anxious to find him. The only person I have met yet who seems like an ordinary Christian is old Mr Brandon, and he's a sly one, I'm afraid. Aunt Keswick thinks he stopped here on his way somewhere, but I don't believe a word of it. I believe he came for reasons of his own, and went right straight back again. You are almost as much to him, Freddy, as you are to me. It would have made you laugh if you could have seen how his face lighted up when he heard we were happy together, and that I would not listen to a divorce. And yet I am sure he has promised Aunt Keswick to see what he can do about getting one. He wants me to stay here and make friends of Aunt Keswick and Junius, but he wouldn't like that if it were not for you, Mr Null. You make everything safe for him.

"And now, Freddy, I tell you again, that all depends upon you. If I'm to stay here—and I want to do that, for a time any way, for although Aunt Keswick is so awfully queer, she's my own aunt, and that's more than I can say for anybody else in the world—you must stiffen up, and stand by me. It won't do to give way for a minute. If necessary you must take tonics, and have a steel rod down your back, if you can't keep yourself erect without it. You must have your legs padded, and your chest thrown out; and you must stand up very strong and sturdy, Freddy, and not let them push you an inch this way or that. And now that we have made up our minds on this subject, we'll go down, for it's getting a little cool on the top of this hill."