t has hardly strength to hold up its head; and
with about as much colour in your cheeks. Come, Daisy, kiss me, and
let us be friends."

"If you will do what is right," I said.

"I will--always," said Preston; "but this would be wrong, you know."
And he stooped again to kiss me. And again I would not suffer him.

"Daisy, you are absurd," said Preston, vibrating between pity and
anger, I think, as he looked at me. "Darry is a servant, and
accustomed to a servant's place. What hurt you so much did not hurt
him a bit. He knows where he belongs."

"You don't," said I.

"What?"

"Know anything about it." I remember I spoke very feebly. I had hardly
energy left to speak at all. My words must have come with a curious
contrast between the meaning and the manner.

"Know anything about what, Daisy? You are as oracular and as immovable
as one of Egypt's monuments; only they are very hard, and you are very
soft, my dear little Daisy!--and they are very brown, according to all
I have heard, and you are as white as a wind-flower. One can almost
see through you. What is it I don't know anything about?"

"I am so tired, Preston!"

"Yes; but what is it I don't know anything about?"

"Darry's place--and yours," I said.

"His place and mine! His place is a servant's, I take it, belonging to
Rudolf Randolph, of Magnolia. I am the unworthy representative of an
old Southern family, and a gentleman. What have you to say about
that?"

"He is a servant of the Lord of lords," I said; "and his Master loves
him. And He has a house of glory preparing for him, and a crown of
gold, and a white robe, such as the King's children wear. And he will
sit on a throne himself by and by. Preston, where will _you_ be?"

These words were said without the least heat of manner--almost
languidly; but they put Preston in a fume. I could not catch his
excitement in the least; but I saw it. He stood up again, hesitated,
opened his mouth to speak and shut it without speaking, turned and
walked away and came back to me. I did not wait for him then.

"You have offended one of the King's children," I said; "and the King
is offended."

"Daisy," said Preston, in a sort of suppressed fury, "one would think
you had turned Abolitionist; only you never heard of such a thing."

"What is it?" said I, shutting my eyes.

"It is just the meanest and most impudent shape a Northerner can take;
it is the lowest end of creation, an Abolitionist is; and a Yankee is