"You remember I informed you in Mobile I meant to sell my Orleans property, as I would not occupy it under existing rule;" to which explanation Matthew Loring actually beamed commendation, "well, I left it in the hands of my business man with orders to invest the money from the sale in some interior plantations not under Federal control.

I wanted a house furnished, colonial by choice--some historical mansion preferred. The particular reason for this is, I have no relatives, no children to provide for, and the fancy has come to me for endowing some educational inst.i.tution in your land, and for such purpose a mansion such as I suggested would, in all ways be preferable. Well, they forwarded me a list of properties. I sent them back unread lest I should covet them all, for they all would cost so little! I repeated to them the description Madame McVeigh had given me of your ancestral home, my dear sir, and told them to secure me a property possessing just such advantages as yours does--near enough to the coast for yachting, and far enough from cities to be out of social chains, except the golden one of friendship," she added, letting her eyes rest graciously on her listeners. "Well, can you surmise the result of that order?"

Each looked at the other in wonder; her smile told half the truth.

"I am afraid to put my surmise in words," confessed Mrs. McVeigh, "for fear of disappointment."

"I'm not!" and Evilena flourished her napkin to emphasize her delight, "its Loringwood! Oh, oh, Madame Caron, you've bought Loringwood!"

Margeret was entering the room with a small tray containing something for Mr. Loring, whose meals she prepared personally. Delaven, who was facing her, saw her grow ashen, and her eyes closed as though struck a physical blow; a gla.s.s from the tray shivered on the floor, as he sprang up and saved her from falling.

"What ails you, Margeret?" asked Gertrude, with the ring of the silver sounding through her tones. "There--she is all right again, Dr.

Delaven. Don't come into the dining room in future unless you feel quite well. Uncle can't endure crashes, or nervous people, about him."

"I know; I beg pardon, Miss Gertrude, Mistress McVeigh," and Margeret's manner was above reproach in its respectful humility, though Delaven observed that the firm lips were white; "the kitchen was very warm. I--I was faint for a minute."

"Never mind about the gla.s.s, Caroline will pick it up," said Mrs.

McVeigh, kindly; "you go lay down awhile, it is very warm in the kitchen. Dilsey always will have a tremendous fire, even to fry an egg on; go along now--go rest where it's cool."

Margeret bent her head in mute acknowledgment of the kindness, and pa.s.sed out of the room. Mr. Loring had pushed his plate away with an impatient frown, signifying that breakfast was over for him, any way.

Delaven, noticing his silence and the grim expression on his face, wondered if he, too, was doubtful of that excuse uttered by the woman.

The kitchen, no doubt, was warm, but he had seen her face as she heard Evilena's delighted exclamation; it was the certainty that Loringwood was actually sold--Loringwood, and that grave under the pines?

Possibly she had fostered hope that it might not be yet--not for a long time, and the suddenness of it had been like a physical shock to the frail, devoted woman. He had reasoned it out like that, and his warm, Irish heart ached for her as she left the room, and, glancing about the table, he concluded that only Matthew Loring and himself suspected the truth, or knew the real reason of her emotion, though the eyes of the Marquise did show a certain frank questioning as they met his own.

"Margeret's fit just frightened the plantation away for a minute,"

resumed Evilena, "but do own up, Madame Caron, is it Loringwood?"

"Yes," a.s.sented Judithe, "the letter from my lawyer, this morning, informs me it is really Loringwood."

"I am very much pleased to hear it, Madame," and Matthew Loring's tone was unusually hearty. "Since we part with it at all, I am pleased that no scrub stock gets possession. The place is perfectly adapted to the use you have planned, and instead of falling into neglect, the old home will become a monument to progress."

"So I hope," replied Judithe, with a subtle light, as of stars, in the depths of her eyes; "I am especially delighted to find that the old furnishings remain; it would be difficult for me to collect articles so in keeping with the entire scheme of arrangement, and it would make a discord to introduce new things from the shops."

"You will find no discords of _that_ sort at Loringwood," said Gertrude, speaking for the first time; "and, I hope, not many of any kind. Many of the heavy, ma.s.sive old things I disliked to part with, but they would be out of place at the Pines, or, in fact, in any house less s.p.a.cious. Like uncle, I am pleased it goes into the keeping of one who appreciates the artistic fitness of the old-fashioned furnishings."

"Which she has never seen yet," supplemented Evilena, as Judithe received this not very cordial compliment with a little bow and a brilliant smile.

"We will remedy that just as soon as we can secure an invitation from the present lady of the manor," she said, in mock confidence to Evilena, across the table, at which the rest laughed, and Mr. Loring declared that now she was the lady of the manor herself, and his one regret was that he and his niece were not there to make her first entrance a welcome one.

"That would certainly add to the pleasure of the visit," and her smile was most gracious. "But even your wish to welcome me makes it all the more delightful. I shall remember it when I first enter the door."

Gertrude made an effort to be cordial, but that it was an effort Mrs.

McVeigh easily discerned, and when they were alone, she turned to her in wonder:

"What is it, dear? Are you displeased about the sale? I feel so responsible for it; but I fancied it would be just what you would want."

"So it is, too; but--oh, I had no idea it could all be settled so quickly as this!"

"When people never hesitate to telegraph, even about trifles, and Judithe never does, they can have business affairs moved very quickly," explained Mrs. McVeigh; "but what possible reason have you for objecting to the settlement?"

"I don't object, but--you will think me silly, perhaps--but, I am sorry it is out of our hands before Kenneth returns. I should like to have him go over the old place, just once, before strangers claim it."

"Never mind, dear, the nearer you are to the Terrace the better that Kenneth will like it, and the Pines is a great improvement in that way."

"Yes; still it was at Loringwood I first saw him. Do you remember? You folks had just moved here from Mobile; it was my tenth birthday, and I had a party. Kenneth was the beau of the whole affair, because he was a new-comer, and a 'town boy,' and, I remember, we compared ages and found that he was three months older than I, and for a long time he a.s.sumed superior airs in consequence," and she smiled at the remembrance. "Well, Uncle Matthew is delighted, and I suppose I should be. It ends all our money troubles for awhile, any way. Now, what are you planning for Kenneth's home coming? All the people will want to see him."

"And so they shall. We certainly can depend on him for tomorrow night, and we will have a party. Pluto shall start with the invitations at once."

And Pluto did, just as soon as he had brought Zekal around for an inspection, which proved so entirely satisfactory that Evilena threatened to adopt him right away. He should be her own especial boy soon as he was big enough to run errands, which statement appeared to make an impression on Zekal not antic.i.p.ated, for he so delighted to gaze on the pretty young white lady who petted him, that he objected l.u.s.tily to being removed from the light of her countenance; and Delaven gave him a coin and informed him that he felt like himself, often. This remark, made in the presence of Madame Caron, who laughed, brought on a tilt at hostilities between himself and Miss Evilena, who declared he was mocking her, and trying to render her ridiculous in the eyes of the only foreigner she admired excessively! He endeavored to persuade her to extend the last by warbling "Sweet Evilena," which she declared she could not endure to hear for three distinct reasons.

"Let's hear them," he suggested, continuing the low humming:

"Ten years have gone by And I have not one dollar; Evilena still lives In that green gra.s.sy hollow."

"There! what sort of man would he be, any way?" she demanded, "a man who couldn't earn a dollar in ten years!"

"Arrah, now! and there's many a one of us travels longer and finds less, and never gets a song made about him, either; so, that's your first reason, is it?"

"And a very good one, too!" affirmed the practical damsel; "do you want to hear the second?"

"An' it please your sovereign grace!"

"Well, it doesn't, for you can't sing it," and she emphasized the statement by flaunting her garden hat at every word.

"Me, is it? Ah, now, listen to that! I can't sing it, can't I? Well, then, I'll practice it all day and every day until you change your mind about that, my lady!"

"I shan't; for I've heard it sung so much better--and by a boy _who wore a uniform_--and that's the third reason."

After that remark she walked up the steps very deliberately, and was very polite to him when they met an hour later, which politeness was the foundation for a feud lasting forty-eight hours; she determined that his punishment should be nothing _less_ than that; it would teach him not to make her a laughing stock again. He should find he had not an Irish girl to tease, and--and make love to--especially before other folks!

And to shorten the season of her displeasure, he evolved a plan promising to woo the dimples into her cheeks again, for, if nothing but a uniformed singer was acceptable to her, a uniformed singer she should have. For the sake of her bright eyes he was willing to humor all her reasonable fancies--and most of her unreasonable ones. The consequences of this particular one, however, were something he could not foresee.

CHAPTER XXII.

The O'Delaven, as he called himself when he was in an especially Irish mood, was Mistress McVeigh's most devoted servant and helper in the preparations for the party. In fact, when Judge Clarkson rode over to pay his respects, a puzzled little frown persistently crept between his brows at the gallantry and a.s.siduity displayed by this exile of Erin in carrying out the charming lady's orders, to say nothing of the gayety, the almost presumption, with which he managed affairs to suit his own fancy when his hostess was not there to give personal attention; and the child Evilena was very nearly, if not quite ignored, or at any rate, was treated in a condescending manner almost parental in its character, and which he perceived was as little relished by the girl as by himself.

He was most delighted, of course, to learn who was the purchaser of Loringwood--it was such an admirable transaction he felt everybody concerned was to be congratulated; even war news was forgotten for a s.p.a.ce.

All the day pa.s.sed and no Kenneth! His mother decided he would be there the following morning, and, with flags draped over walls, and all the preparations complete for his reception, she retired, weary and happy from the day's labors.

Judithe eyed those flags with the same inscrutable smile sometimes given to Matthew Loring's compliments. She pointed to them next morning, when Delaven and herself stood in the hall waiting for their horses. She had accepted him as cavalier for the time, and they were going for a ride in the cool of the morning before the others were stirring.

Margeret was in sight, however--Judithe wondered if she _ever_ slept--and she came to them with delicious coffee and crisp toast, and watched them as they rode away.