d made within reach on the floor. She then went into
a shell of sleep which dancing-parties in the house had not broken, and
required no further attention until the birds stirred in the morning.
Angelique rushed out to evening freedom with a zest which became rapture
when she danced. Perhaps this fresh delight made her the best dancer in
Kaskaskia.

The autocrat loved to compound her own dinners. She had a salver which
Angelique placed before her on the bed; and the old child played in
pastry or salads, or cut vegetable dice for her soup. The baking or
boiling or roasting was done with rigor at her own fireplace by her
blacks, the whiplash in her hand hovering over their bare spots. Silence
was the law of the presence-chamber when she labored with her recipes,
of which she had many, looking like spider tracks on very yellow paper.
These she kept locked up with many of the ingredients for creating them.
She pored over them with unspectacled eyes whenever she mixed a cunning
dish; and even Angelique dared not meddle with them, though they were to
be part of the girl's inheritance.

Angelique now played on the harp to soothe tante-gra'mere's digestion
after her midday dinner, while outdoors all Kaskaskia buzzed with
excitement. It was a field day in territorial politics. All the girls
were at Peggy Morrison's house, watching the processions march by, and
making bouquets to send up to the speakers, of whom Rice Jones was
chief. Tante-gra'mere had her heavy green shutters closed, to keep out
disturbing sights and the noise of fife and drum. Her eyes snapped in
the gloom. It was a warm day, and the large apartment looked like a
linen bazaar, so many garments had tante-gra'mere discarded on account
of the heat, and hung about her. The display made Angelique's face burn
when Colonel Menard was announced; but it was one of tante-gra'mere's
unshakable beliefs that her linen was so superior to other people's its
exposure was a favor to the public. Any attempt to fold it away would
put her into a fury.

The colonel had his hat and riding-whip in his hand. He stood smiling at
both the aged woman and the girl, with his comprehensive grasp of all
individualities. The slave woman placed a chair for him between the bed
and the harp. Angelique loved the harp; but she was glad to let her
hands fall in her lap, and leave Colonel Menard to work good nature in
her tante-gra'mere. The autocrat tolerated him with as much liking as
she could