visit, as to excuse his delight in it and her own fascinating propinquity. Whether

she stopped to take a nail from between her pretty lips when she spoke to him, or whether holding on perilously with one hand to the trellis while she gesticulated with the hammer, pointing out out the divisions of the plantation from her coign of vantage, he thought she was as clear and convincing to his intellect as she was distracting to his senses.

She told him how the war had broken up their old home in Pineville, sending her father to serve in the confederate councils of Richmond, leaving her aunt and herself to manage the property alone; how the estate had been devastated, the house destroyed, and how they had barely time to remove a few valuables; how, although she had always been opposed to secession, and the war, she had not gone north, preferring to stay with her people, and take with them the punishment of the folly she had foreseen. How after the

war and her father's death, she and her aunt had determined, to "reconstruct themselves" after their own fashion on this bit of property, which had survived their fortunes because it had always been considered valueless and unprofitable for negro labour. How at first they had undergone serious difficulty, through the incompetence and ignorance of the freed labourer, and the equal apathy and prejudice of their neighbours. How they had gradually succeeded with the adoption of new methods and ideas, that she herself had conceived, which she now briefly and clearly stated. Courtland listened with a new, breathless, and almost superstitious interest they were his own theories-perfected and demonstrated!

"But you must have had capital for this?"

Ah yes! that was where they were fortunate. There were some French cousins with whom she had once stayed in Paris, who advanced enough to stock the estate. There were some English friends of her father's, old blockade runners—who had taken shares, provided them with more capital and imported some skilled labourers, and a kind of steward or agent to represent them. But they were getting on, and perhaps it was better for their reputation with their neighbours that they had not been beholden to the no'th. Seeing a cloud pass over Courtland's face, the young lady added with an affected sigh, and the first touch of feminine coquetry which had invaded their wholesome camaraderie :

"Yo' ought to have found us out before, co'nnle."

For an impulsive moment, Courtland felt like telling her then and there the story of his romantic quest; but the reflection that they were standing on a narrow ledge with no room for the emotions, and that Miss Sally had just put a nail in her mouth and a start might be dangerous, checked him. To this may be added a new jealousy of her previous experiences, which he had not felt before. Nevertheless he managed to say with some effusion : "But I hope we are not too late now. I think my principals are quite ready and able to buy up any English or French investor now or to come.'

"Yo' might try yo' hand on that one," said Miss Sally, pointing to a young fellow who had just emerged from the office and was crossing the courtyard. "He's the English agent."

He was square shouldered and roundheaded, fresh and clean looking in his white flannels, but with an air of being utterly distinct and alien to everything around him, and mentally and morally irreconcilable to it. As he passed the house he glanced shyly at it; his eye brightened and his manner became selfconscious as he caught sight of the young girl, but changed again when he saw her companion. Courtland likewise was conscious of a certain uneasiness; it was one thing to be helping Miss Sally alone, but certainly another thing to be doing so under the eye of a stranger; and I am afraid that he met the stony observation of the Englishman with an equally cold stare. Miss Sally alone retained her languid ease and self-possession. She called out: "Wait a moment, Mr. Champney," slipped lightly down the ladder, and leaning against it with one foot on its lowest rung awaited his approach.

"I reckoned yo' might be passing by," she said, as he came forward. "Co'nnle Courtland," with an explanatory wave of the hammer towards her companion, who remained erect and slightly stiffened on the cornice, "is no relation to those figures along the frieze of the Redlands' Court House, but a no'th'n officer, a friend of Major Reed's, who's come down here to look after so'th'n property for some no'th'n capitalists. Mr. Champney," she continued, turning and lifting her eyes to Courtland as she indicated Champney with her hammer, "when he isn't talking English, seeing English, thinking English,

dressing English, and wondering why God didn't make everything English, is trying to do the same for his folks. Mr. Champney-Co'nnle Courtland. Co'nnle Courtland, Mr. Champney!" The two men bowed formally. "And now, co'nnle, if yo'll come down, Mr. Champney will

with any confidential relations that he might have with Miss Sally. Nevertheless he met the Englishman's offer to accompany him with polite gratitude, and they left the house together.

In less than an hour they returned. It had not even taken that time for Courtland to discover that the real improvements and the new methods had originated with Miss Sally; that she was virtually the controlling influence there, and that she was probably retarded rather than assisted by the old-fashioned and traditional conservatism of the Company of which Champney was steward. It was equally plain, however, that the young fellow was dimly conscious of this, and was frankly communicative about it.

show yo' round the fahm. When yo've got through yo'll find me here at work."

Courtland would have preferred, and half-looked for her company and commentary on this round of inspection, but he concealed his disappointment and descended. It did not exactly please him that Champney seemed relieved, and appeared to accept him as a bona fide stranger who could not possibly interfere

"You see, over there they work things in a different way, and, by Jove! they can't understand that there is any other, don't you know? They're always wigging me as if I could help it, although I've tried to explain the nigger business, and all that, don't you know? They want Miss Dows to refer her plans to me, and expect me to report on them, and then they'll submit them to the Board and wait for its decision. Fancy Miss Dows doing that! But, by Jove! they can't conceive of her at all over there, don't you

know?"

"Which Miss Dows do you mean?" asked Courtland drily.

"Miss Sally, of course," said the young fellow briskly. "She manages everything-her aunt included. She can make those niggers work when no one else can, a word or smile from her is enough. She can make terms with dealers and contractorsher own terms too-when they won't look at my figures. By Jove she even gets points out of those travelling agents and inventors, don't you know, who come along the road with patents and samples. She got one of those lightning-rod and wire fence men to show her how to put up an arbour for her trailing roses. Why, when I first saw

see

"So did he, don't you know? Miss Sally does not ask anybody. Don't you see? a fellow don't like to stand by and a young lady like her doing such work." Vaguely aware of some infelicity in his speech, he awkwardly turned the subject, "I don't think I shall stay here long, myself."

"You expect to return to England?" asked Courtland.

"Oh, no! But I shall go out of the Company's service and try my own hand. There's a good bit of land about three miles from here that's in the market, and I think I could make something out of it. A fellow ought to settle down and be his own master," he answered tentatively, "eh?"

"But how will Miss Dows be able to spare you?" asked Courtland, uneasily conscious that he was assuming an indifference.

"Oh, I'm not much use to her, don't you know at least not here. But I might, if I had my own land and if we were neighbours. I told you she runs the place, no matter who's here, or whose money is invested."

"I presume you are speaking now of young Miss Dows?" said Courtland drily.

"Miss Sally-of course-always," said Champney simply. "She runs the shop."

"Were there not some French investors - relations of Miss Dows? Does anybody represent them ?" asked Courtland pointedly.

Yet he was not quite prepared for the naïve change in his companion's face. "No. There was a sort of French cousin who used to be a good deal to the fore, don't you know? But I rather fancy he didn't come here to look after the property," returned Champney with at quick laugh. "I think the aunt must have written to his friends, for they 'called him off,' and I don't think Miss Sally broke her heart about him. She's not that sort of girl-ch? She could

have her pick of the State if she went in for that sort of thing-eh?"

Although this was exactly what Court

"I think I won't go in," continued Champney as they neared the house again. "I suppose you'll have something more to say to Miss Dows. If there's anything else you want of me come to the office. But she'll know. And-er-er-if you're er staying long in this part of the country ride over and look me up, don't you know? and have a smoke and a julep; I have a boy who knows how to mix them and I've some old brandy sent me from the other side. Good-bye.

But

More awkward in his kindliness than in his simple business confidences, but apparently equally honest in both he shook Courtland's hand and walked away. Courtland turned towards the house. He had seen the farm and its improvements; he had found some of his own ideas practically discounted; clearly there was nothing left for him to do but to thank his hostess and take his leave. he felt far more uneasy than when he had arrived; and there was a singular sense of incompleteness in his visit that he could not entirely account for. His conversation with Champney had complicated-he knew not why-his previous theories of Miss Dows, and although he was half conscious that this had nothing to do with the business that brought him there, he tried to think that it had. If Miss Sally was really-a-a-distracting element to contiguous man, it was certainly something to be considered in a matter business of which she would take a managerial part. It was true that Champney had said she was "not that sort of girl," but this was the testimony of one who was clearly under her influence. He entered the house through the open French window. The parlour was deserted. He walked through the front hall and porch; no one was there. He lingered a few moments, a slight chagrin beginning to mingle with his uneasiness. She might have been on the look out for him. She or Sophy must have seen him returning. He would ring for Sophy and leave his thanks and regrets for her mistress. He looked for a bell, touched it, but on being confronted with Sophy, changed his mind and asked to see Miss Dows. In the interval between her departure and the appearance of Miss Sally he resolved to do the very thing

of

details, and his own superstition and strange prepossession towards her.

Miss Sally took the articles without a tremor or the least deepening or paling of the delicate faint suffusion of her cheek. When she had glanced over the letter which appeared to be brief, she said with smiling, half-pitying tranquillity:

"Yes!-it was that poor Chet Brooks, sure! I heard that he was killed at Snake River. It was just like him to rush in and get killed the first pop! And all for nothing too-pure foolishness!"

Shocked, yet relieved, but uneasy under both sensations, Courtland went blindly :

on

To have thought they had so much to live for, and yet to have willingly laid down their lives for what they believed was right."

"Yo' didn't go huntin' me for three years to tell me, a so'th'n girl, that so'th'n men know how to fight, did yo', co'nnle?" returned the young lady, with the slightest lifting of her head and drooping of her blue veined lids in a divine hauteur. "They were always ready enough for that, even among themselves. It was much easier for these pooah boys to fight a thing out, than think it out, or work it out. Yo' folks in the no'th learned to do all three; that's where you got the grip on us. Yo' look surprised, co'nnle?

"I didn't expect you would look at it -quite in--in-that way," said Courtland, awkwardly.

"I am sorry I disappointed yo' after yo'd taken such a heap o' trouble,' returned the young lady, with a puzzling assumption of humility as she rose, and smoothed out her skirts, "but I couldn't know exactly what yo' might be expecting after three years; if I had, I might have put on moa'ning." She stopped and adjusted a straying tendril of her hair, with the sharp corner of the dead man's letter. But I thank yo', all the same, co'nnle. It was real good in yo' to think

of toting these things over here." And she held out her hand frankly.

Courtland took it with the sickening consciousness that for the last five minutes he had been an unconscionable ass. He could not prolong the interview, after she had so significantly risen. If he had only taken his leave and kept the letter and locket for a later visit, perhaps when they were older friends! It was too late now. He bent over her hand for a moment, again thanked her for her courtesy, and withdrew. A moment later she heard the receding beat of his horse's hoofs on the road.

She opened the drawer of a brasshandled cabinet, and after a moment's critical survey of her picture in the dead man's locket, tossed it and the letter in the recesses of the drawer. Then she stopped, removed her little slipper from her foot, looked at that too, thoughtfully, and called: "Sophy!"

"Miss Sally? said the girl, reappearing at the door.

66

Are you sure you did not move that ladder?

"I 'clare to goodness, Miss Sally, I nebber teched it?

Miss Sally directed a critical glance at her handmaiden's red coifed head. "No," she said to herself, softly, "it didn't feel like wool, anyway!"

CHAPTER III.

IN spite of the awkward termination of his visit or perhaps because of itCourtland called again at the plantation within the week. But this time he was accompanied by Drummond, and was received by Miss Miranda Dows, a tall, aquiline-nosed spinster of fifty, whose oldtime politeness had become slightly affected and whose old beliefs had given way to a half cynical acceptance of new facts. Mr. Drummond, delighted with the farm and its management, was no less fascinated by Miss Sally, while Courtland was now discreet enough to divide his attentions between her and her aunt, with the result that he was far from participating in Champney's conviction of Miss Miranda's unimportance. To the freedmen she still represented the old implacable task-mistress, and it was evident that they superstitiously believed that she still retained a vague power of over-riding the Fourteenth Amendment at her pleasure, and was only to be