"Do tell me every blessed thing about her--a real Marquise--I love
titles;" and Evilena clasped her hands rapturously.
"Do you, now? Faith, then I'm glad I secured mine before I came over,"
and the laughing Irish eyes met hers quizzically.
"Oh, I never meant titles people earn themselves, Mr. Doctor, for--"
"Then that puts the Judge and Col. Kenneth and myself on the outside
of your fence, does it? Arrah now! I'll be looking up my pedigree in
hopes of unearthing a king--every true Irishman has a traditional
chance of being the descendant of rulers who ran barefoot, and carried
a club to teach the court etiquette."
She made a mutinous little grimace and refused to discuss his probable
ancestors.
"Does not the presence of a French Marquise show how Europe sides with
us?" she demanded, triumphantly. "Quantities of noblemen have been the
guests of the South lately, and isn't General Wolseley, the most
brilliant officer of the British Army, with our General Lee now? I
reckon all _that_ shows how we are estimated. And now the ladies of
title are coming over. Oh, tell me all about her; is she very grand,
very pretty?"
"Grand enough for a queen over your new monarchy," replied Delaven,
who derived considerable enjoyment from teasing the girl about affairs
political--"and pretty? No, she's not that; she's just Beauty's self,
entirely."
"And you knew her well in Paris?" asked Evilena, with a hesitating
suspicion as to why he had not announced such a wonderful acquaintance
before--this woman who was Beauty's self, and a widow. She wondered if
she had appeared crude compared with those grand dames he had known
and forgotten to mention.
"Oh, yes, I knew her while the old Marquise was living, that was when
your mother and Col. Kenneth met her, but afterwards she took to
travel for a change, and has evidently taken your South on her way. It
will be happiness to see her again."
"And brother Ken knew her, too?" asked the girl, with wide-open eyes;
"and _he_ never mentioned her, either--well!"
"The rascal!--to deprive you of an account of all the lovely ladies he
met! But you were at school when they returned, were you not?--and Ken
started off hot foot for the West and Indian fighting, so you see
there were excuses."
"And Kenneth does not know you are here still, and will not know the
beautiful Marquise is here. Won't he be surprised to see you all?"
"I doubt if I cause him such a shock," decided Delaven; "when he gets
sight of Judithe, Marquise de Caron, he will naturally forget at once
whether I am in America or Ireland."
"Indeed, then, I never knew Kenneth to slight a friend," said the
girl, indignantly.
"But maybe you never saw him face to face with such a temptation to
make a man forget the universe."
"Sh--h!" she whispered, softly. Gertrude had come out on the veranda
looking for the Judge. Seeing him down at the landing she walked
leisurely in that direction.
"You do say such wild, extravagant things," continued Evilena, "that I
just had to stop you until Gertrude was out of hearing. I suppose you
know she and Kenneth are paired off for matrimony."
"Are they, now? Well, he's a lucky fellow; when are we to dance at the
wedding?"
"Oh, they never tell me anything about serious things like that,"
complained Evilena. "There's Aunt Sajane; she can tell us, if any one
can; everybody confides love affairs to her."
"Do they, now? Might I ask how you know?"
"Yes, sir; you may _ask_!" Then she dropped that subject and returned
to the first one. "Aunt Sajane, when do you reckon we can dance at
Kenneth's wedding--his and Gertrude's? Doctor Delaven and I want to
dance."
"Evilena--honey!" murmured Aunt Sajane, chidingly, the more so as
Matthew Loring had just crept slowly out with the help of his cane,
and a negro boy. His alert expression betrayed that he had overheard
the question.
"You know," she continued, "folks have lots to think of these days
without wedding dances, and it isn't fair to Gertrude to discuss it,
for _I_ don't know that there really has been any settled engagement;
only it would seem like a perfect match and both families seem to
favor it." She glanced inquiringly at Loring, who nodded his head
decidedly.
"Of course, of course, a very sensible arrangement. They've always
been friends and it's been as good as settled ever since they were
children."
"Settled by the families?" asked Delaven.
"Exactly--a good old custom that is ignored too often these days,"
said Mr. Loring, promptly. "Who is so fit to decide such things for
children as their parents and guardians? That boy's father and me
talked over this affair before the children ever knew each other. Of
course he laughed over the question at the time, but when he died and
suggested me as the boy's guardian, I knew he thought well of it and
depended on me, and it will come off right as soon as this war is
over--all right."
"A very good method for this country of the old French cavaliers,"
remarked Delaven, in a low tone, to the girl, "but the lads and
lassies of Ireland have to my mind found a better."
Evilena looked up inquiringly.
"Well, don't you mean to tell me what it is?" she asked, as he
appeared to have dropped the subject. He laughed at the aggrieved tone
she assumed.
"Whist! There are mystical rites due to the telling, and it goes for
nothing when told in a crowd."
"You have got clear away from Kenneth," she reminded him, hastily.
"Did you mean that he was--well, in love with this magnificent
Marquise?"
Low as she tried to speak, the words reached Loring, who listened, and
Delaven, glancing across, perceived that he listened.
"In love with the Marquise? Bless your heart, we were all of course."
"But my brother?" insisted Evilena.
"Well, now he might have been the one exception--in fact he always did
get out of the merely social affairs when he could, over there."
"Showed his good sense," decided Loring, emphatically. "I don't
approve of young people running about Europe, learning their
pernicious habits and customs; I've had my fill of foreign places and
foreign people."
Mrs. Nesbitt opened her lips with a shocked expression of protest, and
as promptly closed them, realizing the uselessness of it. Evilena
laughed outright and directed an eloquent glance towards the only
foreigner.
"Me, is it?" he asked, doubtingly. "Oh, don't you believe it. I've
been here so long I'm near a Southerner myself."
"How near?" she asked, teasingly.
"Well, I must acknowledge you hold me at arms length in spite of my
allegiance," he returned, and in the laugh of the others, Mr. Loring's
tirade against foreigners was passed over.
It was only a few hours since Pluto arrived with the letter from
Mobile telling of the early arrival of Mrs. McVeigh and her guest.
Noting that the letter had been delayed and that the ladies might even
now be in Savannah, Judge Clarkson proposed starting at once to meet
them, but was persuaded to wait until morning.
Pluto was also told to wait over--an invitation gladly accepted, as
visits to Loringwood were just now especially prized by the
neighboring darkies, for the two runaways were yet subjects of gossip
and speculation, and Uncle Nelse scattered opinions in the quarters on
the absolute foolishness in taking such risks for freedom, and dire
prophesies of the repentance to follow.
That his own personal feeling did not carry conviction to his
listeners was evidenced by the sullen silence of many who did not
think it wise to contradict him. Pluto was the only person to argue
with him. But this proved to be the one subject on which Pluto could
not be his natural good-natured self. His big black eyes held
threatening gleams, rebellious blood throbbed through every vein of
his dark body. He championed the cause of the runaways; he knew of
none who had left a good master; old man Masterson was unreasonable as
Matthew Loring; he did not blame them for leaving such men.
"I got good a mistress--good a master as is in all Carolina," he
stated, bluntly, "but you think I stay here to work for any of them if
it wan't for my boy?--my Rose's baby? No, I wouldn't! I'd go North,
too! I'd never stop till I reached the men who fight against slave
states. You all know what keeps me here. I'd never see my boy again. I
done paid eighteen dollars towards Rose's freedom when she died. Then
I ask Mr. Jean Larue if he wouldn't let that go on the baby. He said
yes, right off, an' told me I could get him for hundred fifty dollars;
_that_ why I work 'long like I do, an' let the other men fight fo'
freedom But I ain't contented so long as any man can sell me an' my
child."
None of the other blacks made any verbal comment on his feelings or
opinions, but old Nelse easily saw that Pluto's ideas outweighed his
own with them.
"I un'stan' you to say Mahs Jean Larue promise he keep yo' boy till
such time as the money is raised?" he asked, cautiously.
"That's the way it was," assented Pluto. "I ain't been to see
him--little Zekal--for nigh on two months now. I'm goen', sure, soon
as Mrs. McVeigh come home an' get settled. It's quite a jaunt from our
place to Mahs Larue's--thirty good mile."
Aunt Chloe poured him out some more rye and corn-meal coffee and
insisted on him having more sweet potato pie. She swept an admonishing
glance towards the others as she did so. "I did heah some time ago one
o' the Larue's gwine way down to the Mexico country," she remarked,
carelessly. "I don't reckon though it is this special Larue. I mind
they did have such a monstrous flock o' them Larue boys long time
back; some got killed in this heah war what's maken' trouble all
roun'. How much you got paid on yo' little boy, Pluto?"
"Most thirty dollars by time I make next trip over. Takes mighty long
time to save money these days, quarters scarcer than dollars use to
be."
His entertainers agreed with him; then the little maid Raquel entered
to say Pluto was wanted by Miss Sajane soon as his lunch was over.
And as he walked across the grounds Evilena pointed him out to
Delaven.
"That is our Pluto," she said, with a certain note of pride in her
tone; "three generations of his family belonged to us. Mama can always
go away feeling the whole plantation is safe so long as Pluto is in
charge. We never do have trouble with the folks at the quarters as Mr.
Loring does. He is so hard on them I wonder they don't all run away;
it would be hard on Gertrude, though--lose her a lot of money. Did you
know Loringwood is actually offered for sale? Isn't it a shame? The
only silver lining to the cloud is that then Gertrude will have to
move to The Pines--I don't mean to the woods"--as he turned a
questioning glance on her. "I mean to Gertrude's plantation joining
ours. It is a lovely place; used to belong to the Masterson tracts,
and was part of the wedding dowery of that Miss Leo Masterson Uncle
Nelse told of--Gertrude's mother, you know. It is not grand or
imposing like Loringwood, but I heard the Judge say that place alone
was enough to make Gertrude a wealthy woman, and the loveliest thing
about it is that it joins our plantation--lovely for Gertrude and
Kenneth, I mean. Look here, Doctor Delaven, you roused my curiosity
wonderfully with that little remark you made about the beautiful
Marquise; tell me true--were they--did Ken, even for a little while,
fall in love with her?"
She looked so roguishly coaxing, so sure she had stumbled on some
fragment of an adventure, and so alluringly confident that Delaven
must tell her the rest, that there is no telling how much he might
have enlightened her if Miss Loring had not entered the room at that
moment through a door nearest the window where they stood.
Her face was serene and self possessed as ever. She smiled and
addressed some careless remark to them as she passed through, but
Delaven had an uncomfortable feeling that she had overheard that
question, and Evilena was too frightened to repeat it.