caressing as he talked, and full, bold eyes roaming about
promiscuously and taking entire advantage of the freedom granted him
at the Terrace, where he had been received as neighbor since boyhood.
He was a cousin of Gertrude's, and it was not difficult to see that
she was the first lady in the county to him, and the county was the
center of Philip Masterson's universe.

He was stationed at Charleston and was absent only for some necessary
business at Columbia, and hearing Judge Clarkson was at the Terrace he
had halted long enough to greet the folks and consult the Judge on
some legal technicality involved in his journey.

Pluto, who had seen that the Captain's horse had also been given
refreshment, came thoughtfully up the steps, puzzling his head over
the perfect rose cast aside on a pretense. It puzzled him quite as
much as the problem of Louise; and the only key he could find to it
was that this very grand lady knew all about the identity of Louise,
and knew why she had hurried away so when old Nelse recognized her.

He wished he had that picture of Margeret, brought by Rosa from
Georgia. But it was still with a lot of Rosa's things over at the
Larue plantation, with the child. He counted on going over to see the
boy in a week at the furthest.

As he reached the top of the steps he could see Margeret through the
open window of the sitting room. Her back was towards him, and she was
so absorbed in regarding the party in the dining room that he
approached unnoticed, and she turned with a gasp as of fear when he
spoke:

"You're like to see more gay folks like that over here than you have
at Loringwood," he remarked. "I reckon you glad to move."

"No," she said, and went slowly towards the veranda; then she turned
and looked at him questionably, and with an interest seldom shown for
anyone.

"You--you heard news from Larue plantation?" she asked, hesitatingly.

"Who, me? No, I aint had no news. I aint"--then he stopped and stared
at her, slowly comprehending what news _might_ come from there. "Fo'
God's sake, tell me! My Zekal; my--"

She lifted her finger for silence and caught his arm.

"They hear you--they will," she said, warningly, "come in here."

She opened the door into the library and he followed; she could feel
his hand tremble, and his eyes were pleading and full of terror. The
light chatter and laughter in the dining room followed them.

"Sick?" and his eyes searched her face for reply, but she