But
he returns to the forest, like an opossum, the moment your eye is off
him. He can't be traced up like this man, by his hat. I think it's a
shame on you, particularly. If he don't come home this day, I shall send
for my brother and force an account of my property from Judge Custis!"
The wife sat down and began to cry.
"I'll take the carriage after breakfast, mamma, and seek him at the
Furnace or wherever he may be. Those bog ores have given him a great
deal of trouble."
"I wish I had never heard of bog ore," exclaimed Mrs. Custis. "When the
money was in bank, there was no ore about it. He goes to the forest
looking like a magistrate and a gentleman; he always comes back looking
like a bog-trotter and a drunkard. There must be _women_ in it!"
Here, in an impulse of weak rage, the poor lady got up and walked to her
mirror and looked at her face. Apparently satisfied that such charms
were trampled on, she dried her tears altogether, and resumed:
"Ginny, go out of the room! (to the neat mulatto lass). Vesta, my dear
daughter, I would not cast a stain upon you for the world; but flesh and
blood _will_ cry out. If your father don't do better I will separate
from him, and leave Princess Anne!"
"Why, _mother_!"
The daughter's bright eyes were large and startled now, and their
steel-blue tint grew plainer under her rich black eyebrows.
"I will do it, if I die, unless he reforms!"
"Why, mother!"
Vesta stood with her lips parted, and her beautiful teeth just lacing
the coral of the lip.
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