Melville ceased shrieking and broke into a subdued roar, as ominous to his slave, Grandmother Capers, as it was amusing to Content. But she veiled the mirth in her brown eyes, and went on speaking in that sort of soothing fashion which mothers use to a fretful infant.

Suddenly the cripple became silent, and looked up into his cousin’s face with an eagerness of expression that showed how little real his grief had been. “Say, Content, does Aunt Ruth know[9] that my heart is affected, and that the doctor says I must have perfect quiet?”

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