said Ninette defiantly, and taking a cup of coffee.

"Yas, I did, I yeard you," walking away.

"See here, Betsy," cried Ninette recalling the girl, "you're not going
to tell, are you?"

"Dun know ef I isn't gwine tell. Dun know ef I isn't gwine tell Miss
Duplan dis yere ver' minute."

"Oh Betsy," entreated Ninette, "I'll give you this dress if you don't.
I don't want it any more."

Betsy's eyes glowed, but she looked down unconcernedly at the pretty
gown.

"Don't spec it fit me. An' you know Miss T'rese ain't gwine let me go
flyin' roun' wid my laigs stickin' out dat away."

"I'll let the ruffle down, Betsy," eagerly proposed Ninette.

"Betsy!" called Therese a little impatiently.

"Yas, 'um--I ben waitin' fu' de cups."

Lucilla had made many an aspiration--many an "act" the while. This
whole evening of revelry, and now this last act of wicked conspiracy
seemed to have tainted her soul with a breath of sin which she would
not feel wholly freed from, till she had cleansed her spirit in the
waters of absolution.

The party broke up at a late hour, though the Duplans had a long
distance to go, and, moreover, had to cross the high and turbid river
to reach their carriage which had been left on the opposite bank,
owing to the difficulty of the crossing.

Mr. Duplan took occasion of a moment aside to whisper to Hosmer with
the air of a connoisseur, "fine woman that Mrs. Worthington of yours."

Hosmer laughed at the jesting implication, whilst disclaiming it, and
Fanny looked moodily at them both, jealously wondering at the cause of
their good humor.

Mrs. Duplan, under the influence of a charming evening passed in such
agreeable and distinguished company, was full of amiable bustle in
leaving and had many pleasant parting words to say to each, in her
pretty broken English.

"Oh, yes, ma'am," said Mrs. Worthington to that lady, who had taken
admiring notice of the beautiful silver "Holy Angels" medal that hung
from Lucilla's neck and rested against the dark gown. "Lucilla takes
after Mr. Worthington as far as religion goes--kind of different
though, for I must say it ain't often he darkens the doors of a
church."

Mrs. Worthington always spoke of her husband present as of a husband
absent. A peculiarity which he patiently endured, having no talent for
repartee, that he had at one time thought of cultivating. But that
time was long past.

The Duplans were the first to leave. Then Therese stood for a while