"Why, Glorianna, do you think he's studying too hard?"

"It ain't jes' de books; I isn't so much afeard ob dem: but it's all
'long ob de 'Cad'my. I wish you'd jes' take a good look at 'im, fust
chance ye git."

"Does he look badly?"

"No: 'tain't jes' altogedder his looks. He's de bes' lookin' boy 'long
shoah. But den de way he's a-goin' on to talk. 'Tain't natural. He used
to talk fust-rate."

"Can't he talk now?"

"Yes, Miss Kinzer, he kin talk; but den de way he gits out his words.
Nebber seen sech a t'ing in all my born days. Takes him ebber so long
jes' to say good-mornin'. An' he doesn't say it like he use ter. I wish
you'd jes' take a good look at 'im."

Mrs. Kinzer promised, and she gave her black friend what comfort she
could; but Dick Lee's tongue would never again be the free-and-easy
member of society it had been. Even when at home, and about his
commonest "chores," he was all the while struggling with what he called
his "pronounciation." If he should succeed as well with the rest of his
"schooling," it was safe to say that it would not be thrown away upon
him.

Glorianna went her way that morning; and the next to intrude upon Mrs.
Kinzer's special domain was her son-in-law himself, accompanied by his
blooming bride.