Virginia--gentleman. No wonder she has no love to spend on
country or flag; no wonder we couldn't agree. And yet it can't be
that,--what were the first words I ever heard from her mouth?" and,
remembering that terrible denunciation of the "peculiar institution" of
Virginia and of the South, he found himself puzzled the more.

Just then there came into the picture-gallery, where they were wasting a
pleasant morning, a young man to whom Surrey gave the slightest of
recognitions,--well-dressed, booted, and gloved, yet lacking the
nameless something which marks the gentleman. His glance, as it rested
on Surrey, held no love, and, indeed, was rather malignant.

"That fellow," said Surrey, indicating him, "has a queer story connected
with him. He was discharged from my father's employ to give place to a
man who could do his work better; and the strange part of it"--he
watched her with an amused smile to see what effect the announcement
would have upon her Virginia ladyship--"is that number two is a black
man."

A sudden heat flushed her cheeks: "Do you tell me your father made room
for a black man in his employ, and at the expense of a white one?"

"It is even so."

"Is he there now?"

Surrey's beautiful Saxon face crimsoned. "No: he is not," he said
reluctantly.

"Ah! did he, this black man,--did he not do his work well?"

"Admirably."

"Is it allowable, then, to ask why he was discarded?"

"It is allowable, surely. He was dismissed because the choice lay
between him and seven hundred men."

"And you"--her face was very pale now, the flush all gone out of
it--"you have nothing to do with your father's works, but you are his
son,--did you do naught? protest, for instance?"

"I protested--and yielded. The contest would have been not merely with
seven hundred men, but with every machinist in the city. Justice
_versus_ prejudice, and prejudice had it; as, indeed, I suppose it will
for a good many generations to come: invincible it appears to be in the
American mind."

"Invincible! is it so?" She paused over the words, scrutinizing him
meanwhile with an unconscious intensity.

"And this black man,--what of him? He was flung out to starve and die;
a proper fate, surely, for his presumption. Poor fool! how did he dare
to think he could compete with his masters! You know nothing of _him _?"

Surely he must be mistaken. What could this black man, or this matter,
be to her? yet as he listened her voice sounded to hi