CHAPTER XXVIII.

MAGNOLIA GROVE.

Judge Clayton was not mistaken in supposing that his son would

contemplate the issue of the case he had defended with satisfaction. As

we have already intimated, Clayton was somewhat averse to the practice

of the law. Regard for the feelings of his father had led him to resolve

that he would at least give it a fair trial. His own turn of mind would

have led him to some work of more immediate and practical philanthropy.

He would have much preferred to retire to his own estate, and devote

himself, with his sister, to the education of his servants. But he felt

that he could not, with due regard to his father's feelings, do this

until he had given professional life a fair trial.

After the scene of the trial which we have described, he returned to his

business, and Anne solicited Nina to accompany her for a few weeks to

their plantation at Magnolia Grove, whither, as in duty bound, we may

follow her.

Our readers will therefore be pleased to find themselves transported to

the shady side of a veranda belonging to Clayton's establishment at

Magnolia Grove.

The place derived its name from a group of these beautiful trees, in the

centre of which the house was situated. It was a long, low cottage,

surrounded by deep verandas, festooned with an exuberance of those

climbing plants which are so splendid in the southern latitude.

The range of apartments which opened on the veranda where Anne and Nina

were sitting were darkened to exclude the flies; but the doors, standing

open, gave picture-like gleams of the interior. The white, matted

floors, light bamboo furniture, couches covered with glazed white linen,

and the large vases of roses disposed here and there, where the light

would fall upon them, presented a background of inviting coolness.

It was early in the morning, and the two ladies were enjoying the

luxury of a _tête-à-tête_ breakfast before the sun had yet dried the

heavy dews which give such freshness to the morning air. A small table

which stood between them was spread with choice fruits, arranged on

dishes in green leaves; a pitcher of iced milk, and a delicate little

_tête-à-tête_ coffee-service, dispensing the perfume of the most

fragrant coffee. Nor were they wanting those small, delicate biscuits,

and some of those curious forms of cornbread, of the manufacture of

which every southern cook is so justly proud. Nor should we omit the

central vase of monthly roses, of every shade of color, the daily

arrangement of which was the special delight of Anne's brown little

waiting-maid Lettice.

Anne Clayton, in a fresh white morning-wrapper, with her pure, healthy

complexion, fine teeth, and frank, beaming smile, looked like a queenly

damask rose. A queen she really was on her own plantation, reigning by

the strongest of all powers, that of love.

The African race have large ideality and veneration; and in no

drawing-room could Anne's beauty and grace, her fine manners and

carriage, secure a more appreciating and unlimited admiration and

devotion. The negro race, with many of the faults of children, unite

many of their most amiable qualities, in the simplicity and

confidingness with which they yield themselves up in admiration of a

superior friend.

Nina had been there but a day, yet could not fail to read in the eyes of

all how absolute was the reign which Anne held over their affections.

"How delightful the smell of this magnolia blossom!" said Nina. "Oh, I'm

glad that you waked me so early, Anne!"

"Yes," said Anne, "in this climate early rising becomes a necessary of

life to those who mean to have any real, positive pleasure in it, and

I'm one of the sort that must have _positive_ pleasures. Merely negative

rest, lassitude, and dreaming, are not enough for me. I want to feel

that I'm alive, and that I accomplish something."

"Yes, I see," said Nina, "you are not nominally like me, but really

housekeeper. What wonderful skill you seem to have! Is it possible that

you keep nothing locked up here?"

"No," said Anne, "nothing. I am released from the power of the keys,

thank fortune! When I first came here, everybody told me it was sheer

madness to try such a thing. But I told them that I was determined to do

it, and Edward upheld me in it: and you can see how well I've

succeeded."

"Indeed," said Nina, "you must have magic power, for I never saw a

household move on so harmoniously. All your servants seem to think, and

contrive, and take an interest in what they are doing. How did you

begin? What did you do?"

"Well," said Anne, "I'll tell you the history of the plantation. In the

first place, it belonged to mamma's uncle; and, not to spoil a story for

relation's sake, I must say he was a dissipated, unprincipled man. He

lived a perfectly heathen life here, in the most shocking way you can

imagine; and so the poor creatures who were under him were worse heathen

than he. He lived with a quadroon woman, who was violent tempered, and

when angry ferociously cruel; and so the servants were constantly

passing from the extreme of indulgence to the extreme of cruelty. You

can scarce have an idea of the state we found them in. My heart almost

failed me; but Edward said, 'Don't give it up, Anne; try the good that

is in them.' Well, I confess, it seemed very much as it seemed to me

when I was once at a water-cure establishment,--patients would be

brought in languid, pale, cold, half dead, and it appeared as if it

would kill them to apply cold water; but, somehow or other, there was a

vital power in them that reacted under it. Well, just so it was with my

servants. I called them all together, and I said to them, 'Now, people

have always said that you are the greatest thieves in the world; that

there is no managing you except by locking up everything from you. But,

I think differently. I have an idea that you can be trusted. I have been

telling people that they don't know how much good there is in you; and

now, just to show them what you can do, I'm going to begin and leave the

closets and doors, and everything, unlocked, and I shall not watch you.

You can take my things, if you choose; and if, after a time, I find that

you can't be trusted, I shall go back to the old way.' Well, my dear, I

wouldn't have believed myself that the thing would have answered so

well. In the first place, approbativeness is a stronger principle with

the African race than almost any other; they like to be thought well of.

Immediately there was the greatest spirit in the house, for the poor

creatures, having suddenly made the discovery that somebody thought they

were to be trusted, were very anxious to keep up the reputation. The

elder ones watched the younger; and, in fact, my dear, I had very little

trouble. The children at first troubled me going into my store-closet

and getting the cake, notwithstanding very spirited government on the

part of the mammies. So, I called my family in session again, and said

that their conduct had confirmed my good opinion; that I always knew

they could be trusted, and that my friends were astonished to hear how

well they did; but that I had observed that some of the children

probably had taken my cake. 'Now, you know,' said I, 'that I have no

objection to your having some. If any of you would enjoy a piece of

cake, I shall be happy to give it to them, but it is not agreeable to

have things in my closet fingered over--I shall therefore set a plate of

cake out every day, and anybody that wishes to take some I hope will

take that.' Well, my dear, my plate of cake stood there and dried. You

won't believe me, but in fact it wasn't touched."

"Well," said Nina, "I shouldn't think you could have had our Tomtit

here! Why, really this goes beyond the virtue of white children."

"My dear, it isn't such a luxury to white children to be thought well

of, and have a character. You must take that into account. It was a

taste of a new kind of pleasure, made attractive by its novelty."

"Yes," said Nina, "I have something in me which makes me feel this would

be the right way. I know it would be with me. There's nothing like

confidence. If a person trusts me, I'm bound."

"Yet," said Anne, "I can't get the ladies of my acquaintance to believe

in it. They see how I get along, but they insist upon it that it's some

secret magic, or art, of mine."

"Well, it is so," said Nina. "Such things are just like the

divining-rod; they won't work in every hand; it takes a real, generous,

warm-hearted woman, like you, Anne. But, could you carry your system

through your plantation, as well as your house?"

"The field-hands were more difficult to manage, on some accounts," said

Anne, "but the same principle prevailed with them. Edward tried all he

could to awaken self-respect. Now, I counselled that we should endeavor

to form some decent habits before we built the cabins over. I told him

they could not appreciate cleanliness and order. 'Very likely they

cannot,' he said, 'but we are not to suppose it;' and he gave orders

immediately for that pretty row of cottages you saw down at the

quarters. He put up a large bathing establishment. Yet he did not

enforce at first personal cleanliness by strict rules. Those who began

to improve first were encouraged and noticed; and, as they found this a

passport to favor, the thing took rapidly. It required a great while to

teach them how to be consistently orderly and cleanly even after the

first desire had been awakened, because it isn't every one that likes

neatness and order, who has the forethought and skill to secure it. But

there has been a steady progress in these respects. One curious

peculiarity of Edward's management gives rise to a good many droll

scenes. He has instituted a sort of jury trial among them. There are

certain rules for the order and well-being of the plantation, which all

agree to abide by; and, in all offences, the man is tried by a jury of

his peers. Mr. Smith, our agent, says that these scenes are sometimes

very diverting, but on the whole there's a good deal of shrewdness and

sense manifested; but he says that, in general, they incline much more

to severity than he would. You see the poor creatures have been so

barbarized by the way they have been treated in past times, that it has

made them hard and harsh. I assure you, Nina, I never appreciated the

wisdom of God, in the laws which he made for the Jews in the wilderness,

as I have since I've tried the experiment myself of trying to bring a

set of slaves out of barbarism. Now, this that I'm telling you is the

fairest side of the story. I can't begin to tell you the thousand

difficulties and trials which we have encountered in it. Sometimes I've

been almost worn out and discouraged. But, then, I think, if there is a

missionary work in this world, it is this."

"And what do your neighbors think about it?" said Nina.

"Well," said Anne, "they are all very polite, well-bred people, the

families with whom we associate; and such people, of course, would

never think of interfering, or expressing a difference of opinion, in

any very open way; but I have the impression that they regard it with

suspicion. They sometimes let fall words which make me think they do.

It's a way of proceeding which very few would adopt, because it is not a

money-making operation, by any means. The plantation barely pays for

itself, because Edward makes that quite a secondary consideration. The

thing which excites the most murmuring is our teaching them to read. I

teach the children myself two hours every day, because I think this

would be less likely to be an offence than if I should hire a teacher.

Mr. Smith teaches any of the grown men who are willing to take the

trouble to learn. Any man who performs a certain amount of labor can

secure to himself two or three hours a day to spend as he chooses; and

many do choose to learn. Some of the men and the women have become quite

good readers, and Clayton is constantly sending books for them. This,

I'm afraid, gives great offence. It is against the law to do it; but, as

unjust laws are sometimes lived down, we thought we would test the

practicability of doing this. There was some complaint made of our

servants, because they have not the servile, subdued air which commonly

marks the slave, but look, speak, and act, as if they respected

themselves. I'm sometimes afraid that we shall have trouble; but, then,

I hope for the best."

"What does Mr. Clayton expect to be the end of all this?" said Nina.

"Why," said Anne, "I think Edward has an idea that one of these days

they may be emancipated on the soil, just as the serfs were in England.

It looks to me rather hopeless, I must say; but he says the best way is

for some one to begin and set an example of what ought to be done, and

he hopes that in time it will be generally followed. It would, if all

men were like him; but there lies my doubt. The number of those who

would pursue such a disinterested course is very small. But who comes

there? Upon my word, if there isn't my particular admirer, Mr.

Bradshaw!"

As Anne said this, a very gentlemanly middle-aged man came up on

horseback, on the carriage-drive which passed in front of the veranda.

He bore in his hand a large bunch of different colored roses; and,

alighting, and delivering his horse to his servant, came up the steps

and presented it to Anne.

"There," said he, "are the first fruits of my roses, in the garden that

I started in Rosedale."

"Beautiful," said Anne, taking them. "Allow me to present to you Miss

Gordon."

"Miss Gordon, your most obedient," said Mr. Bradshaw, bowing

obsequiously.

"You are just in season, Mr. Bradshaw," said Anne, "for I'm sure you

couldn't have had your breakfast before you started; so sit down and

help us with ours."

"Thank you, Miss Anne," said Mr. Bradshaw, "the offer is too tempting to

be refused." And he soon established himself as a third at the little

table, and made himself very sociable.

"Well, Miss Anne, how do all your plans proceed--all your benevolences

and cares? I hope your angel ministrations don't exhaust you."

"Not at all, Mr. Bradshaw; do I look like it?"

"No, indeed! but such energy is perfectly astonishing to us all."

Nina's practised eye observed that Mr. Bradshaw had that particular

nervous, restless air, which belongs to a man who is charged with a

particular message, and finds himself unexpectedly blockaded by the

presence of a third person. So, after breakfast, exclaiming that she had

left her crochet-needle in her apartment, and resisting Anne's offer to

send a servant for it, by declaring that nobody could find it but

herself, she left the veranda. Mr. Bradshaw had been an old family

friend for many years, and stood with Anne almost on the easy footing of

a relation, which gave him the liberty of speaking with freedom. The

moment the door of the parlor was closed after Nina, he drew a chair

near to Anne, and sat down, with the unmistakable air of a man who is

going into a confidential communication.

"The fact is, my dear Miss Clayton," he said, "I have something on my

mind that I want to tell you; and I hope you will think my long

friendship for the family a sufficient warrant for my speaking on

matters which really belong chiefly to yourself. The fact is, my dear

Miss Clayton, I was at a small dinner-party of gentlemen, the other

day, at Colonel Grandon's. There was a little select set there, you

know,--the Howards, and the Elliotts, and the Howlands, and so on,--and

the conversation happened to turn upon your brother. Now, there was the

very greatest respect for him; they seemed to have the highest possible

regard for his motives; but still they felt that he was going on a very

dangerous course."

"Dangerous?" said Anne, a little startled.

"Yes, really dangerous; and I think so myself, though I, perhaps, don't

feel as strongly as some do."

"Really," said Anne, "I'm quite at a loss!"

"My dear Miss Anne, it's these improvements, you know, which you are

making.--Don't misapprehend me! Admirable, very admirable, in

themselves,--done from the most charming of motives, Miss Anne,--but

dangerous, dangerous!"

The solemn, mysterious manner in which these last words were pronounced

made Anne laugh; but when she saw the expression of real concern on the

face of her good friend, she checked herself, and said,--

"Pray, explain yourself. I don't understand you."

"Why, Miss Anne, it's just here. We appreciate your humanity, and your

self-denial, and your indulgence to your servants. Everybody is of

opinion that it's admirable. You are really quite a model for us all.

But, when it comes to teaching them to read and write, Miss Anne," he

said, lowering his voice, "I think you don't consider what a dangerous

weapon you are putting into their hands. The knowledge will spread on to

the other plantations; bright niggers will pick it up; for the very

fellows who are most dangerous are the very ones who will be sure to

learn."

"What if they should?" said Anne.

"Why, my dear Miss Anne," said he, lowering his voice, "the facilities

that it will afford them for combinations, for insurrections! You see,

Miss Anne, I read a story once of a man who made a cork leg with such

wonderful accuracy that it would walk of itself, and when he got it on

he couldn't stop its walking--it walked him to death--actually did!

Walked him up hill and down dale, till the poor man fell down exhausted;

and then it ran off with his body. And it's running with its skeleton to

this day, I believe."

And good-natured Mr. Bradshaw conceived such a ridiculous idea, at this

stage of his narrative, that he leaned back in his chair and laughed

heartily, wiping his perspiring face with a cambric pocket-handkerchief.

"Really, Mr. Bradshaw, it's a very amusing idea, but I don't see the

analogy," said Anne.

"Why, don't you see? You begin teaching niggers, and having reading and

writing, and all these things, going on, and they begin to open their

eyes, and look round and think; and they are having opinions of their

own, they won't take yours; and they want to rise directly. And if they

can't rise, why, they are all discontented; and there's the

what-'s-his-name to pay with them! Then come conspiracies and

insurrections, no matter how well you treat them; and, now, we South

Carolinians have had experience in this matter. You must excuse us, but

it is a terrible subject with us. Why, the leaders of that conspiracy,

all of them, were fellows who could read and write, and who had nothing

in the world to wish for, in the way of comfort, treated with every

consideration by their masters. It is a most melancholy chapter in human

nature. It shows that there is no trust to be placed in them. And, now,

the best way to get along with negroes, in my opinion, is to make them

happy; give them plenty to eat and drink and wear, and keep them amused

and excited, and don't work them too hard. I think it's a great deal

better than this kind of exciting instruction. Mind," he said, seeing

that Anne was going to interrupt him, "mind, now, I'd have religious

instruction, of course. Now, this system of oral instruction, teaching

them hymns and passages of Scripture suited to their peculiar condition,

it's just the thing; it isn't so liable to these dangers. I hope you'll

excuse me, Miss Anne, but the gentlemen really feel very serious about

these things; they find it's affecting their own negroes. You know,

somehow everything goes round from one plantation to another; and one of

them said that he had a very smart man who is married to one of your

women, and he actually found him with a spelling-book, sitting out under

a tree. He said if the man had had a rifle he couldn't have been more

alarmed; because the man was just one of those sharp, resolute fellows,

that, if he knew how to read and write, there's no knowing what he would

do. Well, now, you see how it is. He takes the spelling-book away, and

he tells him he will give him nine-and-thirty if he ever finds him with

it again. What's the consequence? Why, the consequence is, the man sulks

and gets ugly, and he has to sell him. That's the way it's operating."

"Well, then," said Anne, looking somewhat puzzled, "I will strictly

forbid our people to allow spelling-books to go out of their hands, or

to communicate any of these things off of the plantation."

"Oh, I tell you, Miss Anne, you can't do it. You don't know the passion

in human nature for anything that is forbidden. Now, I believe it's more

that than love of reading. You can't shut up such an experiment as you

are making here. It's just like a fire. It will blaze; it will catch on

all the plantations round; and I assure you it's matter of life and

death with us. You smile, Miss Anne, but it's so."

"Really, my dear Mr. Bradshaw, you could not have addressed me on a more

unpleasant subject. I am sorry to excite the apprehension of our

neighbors; but"--

"Give me leave to remind you, also, Miss Anne, that the teaching of

slaves to read and write is an offence to which a severe penalty is

attached by the laws."

"I thought," said Anne, "that such barbarous laws were a dead letter in

a Christian community, and that the best tribute I could pay to its

Christianity was practically to disregard them."

"By no means, Miss Anne, by no means! Why, look at us here in South

Carolina. The negroes are three to one over the whites now. Will it do

to give them the further advantages of education and facilities of

communication? You see, at once, it will not. Now, well-bred people, of

course, are extremely averse to mingling in the affairs of other

families; and had you merely taught a few favorites, in a private way,

as I believe people now and then do, it wouldn't have seemed so bad; but

to have regular provision for teaching school, and school-hours,--I

think, Miss Anne, you'll find it will result in unpleasant

consequences."

"Yes, I fancy," said Anne, raising herself up, and slightly coloring,

"that I see myself in the penitentiary for the sin and crime of teaching

children to read! I think, Mr. Bradshaw, it is time such laws were

disregarded. Is not that the only way in which many laws are repealed?

Society outgrows them, people disregard them, and so they fall away,

like the calyx from some of my flowers. Come, now, Mr. Bradshaw, come

with me to my school. I'm going to call it together," said Anne, rising,

and beginning to go down the veranda steps. "Certainly, my dear friend,

you ought not to judge without seeing. Wait a moment, till I call Miss

Gordon."

And Anne stepped across the shady parlor, and in a few moments

reappeared with Nina, both arrayed in white cape-bonnets. They crossed

to the right of the house, to a small cluster of neat cottages, each one

of which had its little vegetable garden, and its plot in front,

carefully tended, with flowers. They passed onward into a grove of

magnolias which skirted the back of the house, till they came to a

little building, with the external appearance of a small Grecian temple

the pillars of which were festooned with jessamine.

"Pray what pretty little place is this?" said Mr. Bradshaw.

"This is my school-room," said Anne.

Mr. Bradshaw repressed a whistle of astonishment; but the emotion was

plainly legible in his face, and Anne said, laughing,--

"A lady's school-room, you know, should be lady-like. Besides, I wish to

inspire ideas of taste, refinement, and self-respect, in these children.

I wish learning to be associated with the idea of elegance and beauty."

They ascended the steps, and entered a large room, surrounded on three

sides by blackboards. The floor was covered with white matting, and the

walls hung with very pretty pictures of French lithographs, tastefully

colored. In some places cards were hung up, bearing quotations of

Scripture. There were rows of neat desks, before each of which there was

a little chair.

Anne stepped to the door and rang a bell, and in about ten minutes the

patter of innumerable little feet was heard ascending the steps, and

presently they came streaming in--all ages, from four or five to

fifteen, and from the ebony complexion of the negro, with its

closely-curling wool, to the rich brown cheek of the quadroon, with

melancholy, lustrous eyes, and waving hair. All were dressed alike, in a

neat uniform of some kind of blue stuff, with white capes and aprons.

They filed in to the tune of one of those marked rhythmical melodies

which characterize the negro music, and, moving in exact time to the

singing, assumed their seats, which were arranged with regard to their

age and size. As soon as they were seated, Anne, after a moment's pause,

clapped her hands, and the whole school commenced a morning hymn, in

four parts, which was sung so beautifully that Mr. Bradshaw, quite

overpowered, stood with tears in his eyes. Anne nodded at Nina, and cast

on him a satisfied glance.

After that, there was a rapid review of the classes. There was reading,

spelling, writing on the blackboard, and the smaller ones were formed in

groups in two adjoining apartments, under the care of some of the older

girls. Anne walked about superintending the whole; and Nina, who saw the

scene for the first time, could not repress her exclamation of delight.

The scholars were evidently animated by the presence of company, and

anxious to do credit to the school and teacher, and the two hours passed

rapidly away. Anne exhibited to Mr. Bradshaw specimens of the

proficiency of her scholars in handwriting, and the drawing of maps, and

even the copying of small lithograph cards, which contained a series of

simple drawing-patterns. Mr. Bradshaw seemed filled with astonishment.

"'Pon my word," said he, "these are surprising! Miss Anne, you are a

veritable magician--a worker of miracles! You must have found Aaron's

rod, again! My dear madam, you run the risk of being burned for a

witch!"

"Very few, Mr. Bradshaw, know how much of beauty lies sealed up in this

neglected race," said Anne, with enthusiasm.

As they were walking back to the house, Mr. Bradshaw fell a little

behind, and his face wore a thoughtful and almost sad expression.

"Well," said Anne, looking round, "a penny for your thoughts!"

"Oh, I see, Miss Anne, you are for pursuing your advantage. I see

triumph in your eyes. But yet," he added, "after all this display, the

capability of your children makes me feel sad. To what end is it? What

purpose will it serve, except to unfit them for their inevitable

condition--to make them discontented and unhappy?"

"Well," replied Anne, "there ought to be no inevitable condition that

makes it necessary to dwarf a human mind. Any condition which makes a

full development of the powers that God has given us a misfortune,

cannot, certainly, be a healthy one--cannot be right. If a mind will

grow and rise, make way and let it. Make room for it, and cut down

everything that stands in the way!"

"That's terribly levelling doctrine, Miss Anne."

"Let it level, then!" said Anne. "I don't care! I come from the old

Virginia cavalier blood, and am not afraid of anything."

"But, Miss Anne, how do you account for it that the best-educated and

best-treated slaves--in fact, as you say, the most perfectly-developed

human beings--were those who got up the insurrection in Charleston?"

"How do you account for it," said Anne, "that the best-developed and

finest specimens of men have been those that have got up insurrections

in Italy, Austria, and Hungary?"

"Well, you admit, then," said Mr. Bradshaw, "that if you say A in this

matter, you've got to say B."

"Certainly," said Anne, "and when the time comes to say B, I'm ready to

say it. I admit, Mr. Bradshaw, it's a very dangerous thing to get up

steam, if you don't intend to let the boat go. But when the steam is

high enough, let her go, say I."

"Yes, but, Miss Anne, other people don't want to say so. The fact is, we

are not all of us ready to let the boat go. It's got all our property in

it--all we have to live on. If you are willing yourself, so far as your

people are concerned, they'll inevitably want liberty, and you say

you'll be ready to give it to them; but your fires will raise a steam on

our plantations, and we must shut down these escape-valves. Don't you

see? Now, for my part, I've been perfectly charmed with this school of

yours; but, after all, I can't help inquiring whereto it will grow."

"Well, Mr. Bradshaw," said Anne, "I'm obliged to you for the frankness

of this conversation. It's very friendly and sincere. I think, however,

I shall continue to compliment the good sense and gallantry of this

state, by ignoring its unworthy and unchristian laws. I will endeavor,

nevertheless, to be more careful and guarded as to the manner of what I

do; but, if I should be put into the penitentiary, Mr. Bradshaw, I hope

you'll call on me."

"Miss Anne, I beg ten thousand pardons for that unfortunate allusion."

"I think," said Anne, "I shall impose it as a penance upon you to stay

and spend the day with us, and then I'll show you my rose-garden. I have

great counsel to hold with you on the training of a certain pillar-rose.

You see, my design is to get you involved in my treason. You've already

come into complicity with it, by visiting my school."

"Thank you, Miss Anne; I should be only too much honored to be your

abettor in any treason you might meditate. But, really, I'm a most

unlucky dog! Think of my having four bachelor friends engaged to dine

with me, and so being obliged to decline your tempting offer! In fact, I

must take horse before the sun gets any hotter."

"There he goes, for a good-hearted creature as he is!" said Anne.

"Do you know," said Nina, laughing, "that I thought that he was some

poor, desperate mortal, who was on the verge of a proposal, this

morning, and I ran away like a good girl to give him a fair field?"

"Child," said Anne, "you are altogether too late in the day. Mr.

Bradshaw and I walked that little figure some time ago, and now he is

one of the most convenient and agreeable of friends."

"Anne, why in the world don't you get in love with somebody?" said Nina.

"My dear, I think there was something or other left out when I was made

up," said Anne, laughing, "but I never had much of a fancy for the lords

of creation. They do tolerably well till they come to be lovers; but

then they are perfectly unbearable. Lions in love, my dear, don't appear

to advantage, you know. I can't marry papa or Edward, and they have

spoiled me for everybody else. Besides, I'm happy, and what do I want of

any of them? Can't there be now and then a woman sufficient to herself?

But, Nina, dear, I'm sorry that our affairs here are giving offence and

making uneasiness."

"For my part," said Nina, "I should go right on. I have noticed that

people try all they can to stop a person who is taking an unusual

course; and when they are perfectly certain that they can't stop them,

then they turn round and fall in with them; and I think that will be the

case with you."

"They certainly will have an opportunity of trying," said Anne. "But

there is Dulcimer coming up the avenue with the letter-bag. Now, child,

I don't believe you appreciate half my excellence, when you consider

that I used to have all these letters that fall to you every mail."

At this moment Dulcimer rode up to the veranda steps, and deposited the

letter-bag in Anne's hands.

"What an odd name you have given him!" said Nina, "and what a

comical-looking fellow he is! He has a sort of waggish air that reminds

me of a crow."

"Oh, Dulcimer don't belong to our _régime_," said Anne. "He was the

prime minister and favorite under the former reign,--a sort of licensed

court jester,--and to this day he hardly knows how to do anything but

sing and dance; and so brother, who is for allowing the largest liberty

to everybody, imposes on him only such general and light tasks as suit

his roving nature. But there!" she said throwing a letter on Nina's lap,

and at the same time breaking the seal of one directed to herself. "Ah,

I thought so! You see, puss, Edward has some law business that takes him

to this part of the state forthwith. Was ever such convenient law

business? We may look for him to-night. Now there will be rejoicings!

How now, Dulcimer? I thought you had gone," she said, looking up, and

observing that personage still lingering in the shade of a tulip-tree

near the veranda.

"Please, Miss Anne, is Master Clayton coming home to-night?"

"Yes, Dulcimer; so now go and spread the news; for that's what you want,

I know."

And Dulcimer, needing no second suggestion, was out of sight in the

shrubbery in a few moments.

"Now, I'll wager," said Anne, "that creature will get up something or

other extraordinary for this evening."

"Such as what?" said Nina.

"Well, he is something of a troubadour, and I shouldn't wonder if he

should be cudgelling his brain at this moment for a song. We shall have

some kind of operatic performance, you may be sure."

Dred: A Tale of the Great Dismal Swamp · 第 28 / 57 章