Bad Hugh

It had been a bright, pleasant day in March, when 'Lina was expected

home, and in honor of her arrival the house at Spring Bank wore its most

cheery aspect; not that any one was particularly pleased because she was

coming, unless it were the mother; but it was still an event of some

importance, and so the negroes cleaned and scrubbed and scoured,

wondering if "Miss 'Lina done fotch 'em anything," while Alice arranged

and re-arranged the plainly-furnished rooms, feeling beforehand how the

contrast between them and the elegancies to which 'Lina had recently

been accustomed would affect her.

Hugh had thought of the same thing, and much as it hurt him to do it, he

sold one of his pet colts, and giving the proceeds to Alice, bade her

use it as she saw fit.

Spring Bank had never looked one-half so well before, and the negroes

were positive there was nowhere to be found so handsome a room as the

large airy parlor, with its new Brussels carpet and curtains of worsted

brocatelle.

Even Hugh was somewhat of the same opinion, but then he only looked at

the room with Alice standing in its center, or stooping in some corner

to drive again a refractory nail, so it is not strange that he should

judge it favorably. Ad would be pleased, he knew, and he gave orders

that the carriage and harness should be thoroughly cleaned, and the

horses well groomed, for he would make a good impression upon his

sister.

Alas, she was not worth the trouble, the proud, selfish creature, who,

all the way from Lexington to the Big Spring station had been hoping

Hugh would not take it into his head to meet her, or if he did, that he

would not have on his homespun suit of gray, with his pants tucked in

his boots, and so disgrace her in the eyes of Mr. and Mrs. Ford, her

traveling companions, who would see him from the window. Yes, there he

was, standing expectantly upon the platform, and she turned her head the

other way pretending not to see him until the train moved on and Hugh

compelled her notice by grasping her hand and calling her "Sister

'Lina."

She had acquired a certain city air by her sojourn in New York, and in

her fashionably made traveling dress and hat was far more stylish

looking than when Hugh last parted from her. But nothing abashed he held

her hand a moment while he inquired about her journey, and then

playfully added: "Upon my word, Ad, you have improved a heap, in looks I mean. Of course

I don't know about the temper. Spunky as ever, eh?" and he tried to

pinch her glowing cheek.

"Pray don't be foolish," was 'Lina's impatient reply, as she drew away

from him, and turned, with her blandest smile, to a sprig of a lawyer

from Frankfort, who chanced to be there too.