There was that little air of high breeding which was Betty's that fascinated him.

He had known something of the other sort, those who had arrived at prosperity with manners and speech that still reflected the meaner condition from which they had risen.
"I haven't a thing to offer her--this is plain madness of mine!" he kept telling himself, and then the expression of his face would become grim and determined.

No more of the river for him--he'd get hold of some land and go to raising cotton; that was the way money was made.
Slow as The Naiad was, the days passed much too swiftly for him.

When Memphis was reached their friendly intercourse would come to an end.
There would be her brother, of whom she had occasionally spoken--he would be pretty certain to have the ideas of his class.
As for Betty, she liked this tall fellow who helped her through the fatigue of those long days, when there was only the unbroken sweep of the forest on either hand, with here and there a clearing where some outrageous soul was making a home for himself.

The shores became duller, wilder, more uninteresting as they advanced, and then at last they entered the Mississippi, and she was almost home.
Betty was not unexcited by the prospect.