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sed a sharpened wit as well as a ready tongue。 From subject to subject she passed with amazing swiftness； bearing down upon her favourite themes with the delightful audacity of the talker who is born； not made。 She spoke of her own youth； of historic flirtations in the early twenties； of great beaux she had known； and of famous recipes that had been handed down for generations。 Everywhere he felt her wonderful keenness of perception； that intuitive understanding of men and manners which had kept her for so long the reigning belle among her younger rivals。
As she went on he found that her world was as different from his own as if she dwelt upon some undiscovered planeta world peopled with shades and governed by an ideal group of abstract laws。 She lived upon lies； he saw； and thrived upon the sweetness she extracted from them。 For her the Confederacy had never fallen； the quiet of her dreamland had been disturbed by no invading army； and the three hundred slaves； who had in reality scattered like chaff before the wind； she still saw in her cheerful visions tilling her familiar fields。 It was as if she had fallen asleep with the great blow that bad wrecked her body； and had dreamed on steadily throughout the years。 Of real changes she was as ignorant as a new…born child。 Events had shaken the world to its centre； and she； by her obscure hearth； had not felt so much as a sympathetic tremor。 In her memory there was no Appomattox； news of the death of Lincoln had never reached her ears； and president had peacefully succeeded president in the secure Confederacy in which she lived。 Wonderful as it all was； to Carraway the most wonderful thing was the intricate tissue of lies woven around her chair。 Liesliesthere had been nothing but lies spoken within her hearing for twenty years。
CHAPTER VII。 In Which a Stand is Made
Dim wonder was still upon him when Docia appeared bearing her mistress's dinner…tray； and a moment later Cynthia came in and paused uncertainly near the threshold。
〃Do you wish anything； mother？〃
〃Only to present Mr。 Carraway； my child。 He will be with us at dinner。〃
Cynthia came forward smiling and held out her hand with the cordial hospitality which she had inherited with the family portraits and the good old name。 She wore this morning a dress of cheap black calico； shrunken from many washings； and beneath the scant sleeves Carraway saw her thin red wrists； which looked as if they had been soaking in harsh soapsuds。 Except for a certain ease of manner which she had not lost in the drudgery of her life； she might have been sister to the toilworn slattern he had noticed in one of the hovels across the country。
〃We shall be very glad to have you；〃 she said； with quiet dignity。
〃It is ready now； I think。〃
〃Be sure to make him try the port； Cynthia；〃 called Mrs。 Blake； as Carraway followed the daughter across the threshold。
In the kitchen they found Tucker and Lila and a strange young man in overalls； who was introduced as 〃one of the Weatherbys who live just up the road。〃 He was evidently one of their plainer neighbours for Carraway detected a constraint in Cynthia's manner which Lila did not appear to share。 The girl； dressed daintily in a faded muslin； with an organdy kerchief crossed over her swelling bosom； flashed upon Carraway's delighted vision like one of the maidens hanging； gilt…framed； in the old lady's parlour。 That she was the particular pride of the familythe one luxury they allowed themselves besides their costly motherthe lawyer realised upon the instant。 Her small white hands were unsoiled by any work； and her beautiful； kindly face had none of the nervous dread which seemed always lying behind Cynthia's tired eyes。 With the high devotion of a martyr； the elder sister must have offered herself a willing sacrifice； winning for the younger an existence which； despite its gray monotony； showed fairly rose…coloured in comparison with her own。 She herself had sunk to the level of a servant； but through it all Lila had remained 〃the lady；〃 preserving an equable loveliness to which Jim Weatherby hardly dared lift his wistful gaze。
As for the young man himself； he had a blithe； open look which Carraway found singularly attractive； the kind of look it warms one's heart to meet in the long road on a winter's day。 Leaning idly against the lintel of the door； and fingering a bright axe which he was apparently anxious that they should retain； he presented a pleasant enough picture to the attentive eyes within the kitchen。
〃You'd as well keep this axe as long as you want it；〃 he protested earnestly。 〃 It's an old one； anyway； that I sharpened when you asked for it； and we've another at home； that's all we need。〃
〃It's very kind of you； Jim； but ours is mended now；〃 replied Cynthia； a trifle stiffly。
〃If we need one again； we'll certainly borrow yours； 〃added Lila； smiling as she looked up from the glasses she was filling with fresh buttermilk。
〃Sit down； Jim； and have dinner with us； there's no hurry；〃 urged Tucker hospitably； with a genial wave toward the meagerly spread table。 〃Jim's a great fellow； Mr。 Carraway； you ought to know him。 He can manage anything from a Sunday…school to the digging of a well。 I've always said that if he'd had charge of the children of Israel's journey to the promised land he'd have had them there； flesh…pots and all； before the week was up。〃
〃I can see he is a useful neighbour；〃 observed Carraway； glancing at the axe。
〃Well； I'm glad I come handy； 〃 replied Jim in his hearty way； 〃and are you sure you don't want me to split up that big oak log at the woodpile？ I can do it in a twinkling。〃
Cynthia declined his knightly offer； to be overruled again by Lila's smiling lips。
〃Christopher will have to do it when he comes in； 〃 she said； 〃poor Christopher； he never has a single moment of his own。〃
Jim Weatherby looked at her eagerly； his blue eyes full of sparkle。 〃Why； I can do it in no time；〃 he declared； shouldering his axe； and a moment afterward they heard his merry strokes from the woodpile。
〃Are you interested in tobacco； Mr。 Carraway？〃 inquired Tucker； as they seated themselves at the pine table without so much as an apology for the coarseness of the fare or an allusion to their fallen fortunes。 〃If so； you've struck us at the time when every man about here is setting out his next winter's chew。 Sol Peterkin； by the way； has planted every square inch of his land in tobacco； and when I asked him what market he expected to send it to he answered that he only raised a little for his own use。〃
〃Is that the Peterkin who has the pretty daughter？〃 asked Cynthia； slicing a piece of bacon。 〃May I help you to turnip salad； Mr。 Carraway？〃 Uncle Boaz； hobbling with rheumatism； held out a quaint old tray of inlaid woods； and the lawyer； as he placed his plate upon it； heaved a sigh of gratitude for the utter absence of vulgarity。 He could fancy dear old Miss Saidie puffing apologies over the fat bacon； and Fletcher profanely deploring the sloppy coffee。
〃The half…grown girl with the bunch of flaxen curls tied with a blue ribbon？〃 returned Tucker； while Lila cut up his food as if he were a child。 〃Yes； that's Molly Peterkin； though