Just as she had finished speaking, the dogs set up a great barking, and the negroes uttered the joyful cry of “Marster’s come!  Marster’s come!” The family ran to the door to meet him; but Fanny could not wait for him to enter the house, neither could she stop to unfasten the gate, but clearing it with one bound, she was soon in the arms of her father, who uttered his usual, “Ha, ha,” and said, “Well done, darling; you’ll do for a cirkis rider.  Are you glad to see your old pap?”

The blacks then gathered round, and he shook hands with all, saying, “How d’ye, boys?  How d’ye?  Have you worked right smart since I’ve been gone?  If you have, you may have a play spell the rest of the arternoon.”

So saying, he entered the house, where after greeting his wife, Julia and Mr. Miller, he was introduced to “Miss Wilmot.”  He took her hand and looking at her for a moment, said, “Wilmot, Wilmot!  Are you Dick’s sister?”

Kate’s eyes filled with tears as she exclaimed, “Yes, sir, Richard was my brother.”

“Richard was your brother!  Great Moses!  What does this mean?  And you in black and crying!” Then looking at his wife, who was also in tears, he added impatiently, “What in thun—­” but instantly recollecting himself, he said more gently, “Can’t anybody tell me what has happened?” And the old man’s cheek paled, and his voice trembled, as the dread of what might have happened stole over him.

Fanny at last went up to him and said softly, “Father, Mr. Wilmot is dead!”

Mr. Middleton sank into the nearest chair, and covering his rough face with his hands, wept as freely as a little child.  He had loved Mr. Wilmot with almost a father’s love, and during his absence had not been unmindful of him.  Safely stowed away in his carpet bag were several costly books, which he had purchased as a present for Richard.  He had also hoped that as Julia’s husband he would have a good influence over her, and improve her fractious disposition; and many were the plans which he had formed as to what he would do when Richard was really his son.  But now he was gone forever.  The blow was so sudden, so unexpected, that for several minutes he was stunned by its force and wept on in silence.

At last, lifting up his head, he turned to Kate and said, “You must not think me a silly old fool, child, for Lord knows old Josh Middleton hain’t shed such tears since he was a little shaver and cried when they buried up his dead mother.”

Kate could not reply, but from that time she felt for Mr. Middleton a respect and esteem which nothing could ever change.

After Mr. Middleton had become calm, he proceeded to enumerate to Mr. Miller the many good qualities of Mr. Wilmot.  Said he, “He was a capital feller; allus just so.  Lively as a cricket; none of your stuck-up, fiddle-faddle notions.  And then he was such a good boarder—­not a bit particular what he eat; why, he was the greatest kind of a man—­eat corn bread, turnip greens, or anything!”