n under which slavery was
established which made Secession inevitable.

Besides, the laziness and incapacity of the negro had been more than he
could endure. With no ties of tradition or habits of life to bind him, he
simply refused to tolerate them. In this feeling Elsie had grown early to
sympathize. She discharged Aunt Cindy for feeding her children from the
kitchen, and brought a cook and house girl from the North, while Phil
would employ only white men in any capacity.

In the desolation of negro rule the Cameron farm had become worthless. The
taxes had more than absorbed the income, and the place was only kept from
execution by the indomitable energy of Mrs. Cameron, who made the hotel
pay enough to carry the interest on a mortgage which was increasing from
season to season.

The doctor's practice was with him a divine calling. He never sent bills
to his patients. They paid something if they had it. Now they had
nothing.

Ben's law practice was large for his age and experience, but his clients
had no money.

While the Camerons were growing each day poorer, Phil was becoming rich.
His genius, skill, and enterprise had been quick to see the possibilities
of the waterpower. The old Eagle cotton mills had been burned during the
war. Phil organized the Eagle & Phoenix Company, interested Northern
capitalists, bought the falls, and erected two great mills, the dim hum of
whose spindles added a new note to the river's music. Eager, swift,
modest, his head full of ideas, his heart full of faith, he had pressed
forward to success.

As the old Commoner's mind began to clear, and his recovery was sure, Phil
determined to press his suit for Margaret's hand to an issue.

Ben had dropped a hint of an interview of the Rev. Hugh McAlpin with Dr.
Cameron, which had thrown Phil into a cold sweat.

He hurried to the hotel to ask Margaret to drive with him that afternoon.
He would stop at Lover's Leap and settle the question.

He met the preacher, just emerging from the door, calm, handsome, serious,
and Margaret by his side. The dark-haired beauty seemed strangely serene.
What could it mean? His heart was in his throat. Was he too late? Wreathed
in smiles when the preacher had gone, the girl's face was a riddle he
could not solve.

To his joy, she consented to go.

As he left in his trim little buggy for the hotel, he stooped and kissed
Elsie, whispering:

"Make an offering on the altar of love for me, Sis!"

"You'r