The Portland daily press., 1898-02-23
CHAPTER K.

CHAPTER K.
Perhaps for the first time in her life
Savanna found herself face to face with
a spirit more intrepid than her own.
Jessica met the blazing wrath Of her
gaze with bold front. Pointing impe-
riously at the woman on the lounge, she
repeated her question:
"Who is this woman?"
The old woman advanced in sullen
silence. There was that in the eyes and
bearing of her visitor which CONCEALED
the insolent words she had been ready
to hurl at her on the moment of her en-
trance. She leaned over the back of the
lounge with the protecting manner of a
wild beast sheltering its young from
threatened danger.
Jessica repeated her question, adding
with uncompromising sternness:
81 have right to know who is mas
querading under the name of my dead
aunt. 1 never saw her. and so you may
think to deceive mo with impunity, but
youi cannot harbor strangers on this
plantation in my fathers absence, and
I insist upon knowing who this woman
is,''
Savanna drew her figure up to its most
imposing height.
s'She is a lady. Call her such. She is
a lady from the crown Of her precious
head to her feet, which nuther you nor
me is worthy to touch. y
"Granted. Who is this LADY,"
"She is who she told you she was
"That is false! My aunt, Ellen Bas-
eom, is dead
In imperiousness the crone matched
the lady. She flashed a fierce look of
resentment at the daring girl and point
ed toward the lounge.
"Your aunt, Ellen Basconl, =, there. !"
And in the same sweet, sad tones
came confederation from the occupant
of the lounge.
81 am Ellen Bascom. Tell her, man.
my. Tell her if DIR. Northcote sent her
for me that I am with friend who
loves me and does not watch me every
moment. don't want to go back. Tell
her. nanny, and then she will go
away and let me go to sleep. l am so
tired. came such long way to get
home"
Savanna lifted herself from her stoop-
ing posture and turned on Jessica with
passionate cry.
"You might have left her in peace
the little remnant of her days! She is
doin nuther you nor yourn mite of
harm. She's been bounded from pillar
to post till this poor roof an one onli-i
est humble slave is all she's got to turn
to-"
"If she is really my aunt, she has me
to turn to,' said Jessica, looking at the
frail figure on the couch with a pitiful
curiosity.
"Was she here before my father left
for the wars?''
"She's been with me ever since she
left Northcote's.
"Why did you not let him know?''
s'I hid her. He would have sent her
back, an she begged me to let her stay.
l were her nanny from the hour she
opened her purity eyes on world she's
too good to live in
But my father had a right to know. "
"Mebbe But he would have sent her
back to them folks. y
(Which folks?'
"Her keepers, and she don't need no
keepers. -
"Do you mean DR.. Northcote and his
wife?'
eyes.
"But they were good to her. -
"Mebbe, but she was heartbroke for
her home. She was pinin for sight
of the old house where she was born an
where she suffered at the hands of them
that ought to have cherished an shell
tered her. -
From among the silken cushions of
the lounge f1oated an echo as sad in its
wistful softness as the breeze that stirs
the leaves at night.
"Born and suffered. Dear Lord, suf-
"
Jessica turned upon Savanna impa-
tiently.
.'But my father grieved for her. He
loved her, I know. He would have
brought her back if he had known. He
searched for her everywhere. I know
ba did