future husband, my dear.". "How old should you take Mr. Vance to be?" "About thirty-five.”- "O no! Not a year over thirty." "He's too old to be caught by any chaff of yours, my dear!" "Now, papa! I'll not walk with you another minute!" A few evenings afterwards, as Laura sat lonely in her private parlor, a waiter put into her hand a card on which was simply written in pencil, "MR. VANCE." She did not try to check the start of exultation with which she said, him in." "Show Laura was now verging on her eighteenth year. A little above the Medicean height, her well-rounded shoulders and bust prefigured for her womanhood a voluptuous fulness. Nine men out of ten would have pronounced her beautiful. Had she been put up at a slave-vendue, the auctioneer, if a connoisseur, would have expatiated thus: "Let me call your attention, gentlemen, to this very superior article. Faultless, you see, every way. In limb and action perfect. Too showy, perhaps, for a field-hand, but excellent for the parlor. Look at that profile. The Grecian type in its perfection! Nose a little retroussé, but what piquancy in the expression! Hair dark, glossy, abundant. Cheeks, do you notice that little dimple when she smiles? Teeth sound and white: open the mouth of the article and look, gentlemen. Just feel of those arms, gentlemen. Complexion smooth, brilliant, perfect. Did you ever see a head and neck more neatly set on the shoulders? - and such shoulders! What are you prepared to bid, gentlemen, for this very, very superior article?" Laura was attired in a light checked foulard silk, trimmed with cherry-colored ribbons. Running to the mirror, she adjusted here and there a curl, and lowered the gauze over her shoulders. Then, resuming her seat, she took Tennyson's "In Memoriam" from the table, and became intensely absorbed in the perusal. As Vance entered, Laura said to herself, "I know I'm right as to his age!" Nor was her estimate surprising. During the last two lustrums of his nomadic life, he had rather reinvigorated than impaired his physical frame. He never counteracted the hygienic benefits of his Arab habits by vices of eating and drinking. Abjuring all liquids but water, sleeping often on the bare ground under the open sky, he so hardened and purified his constitution that those constantly recurring local inflammations which, under the name of "colds" of some sort, beset men in their ordinary lives in cities, were to him almost unknown. And so he was what the Creoles called bien conservé. Laura, with a pretty affectation of surprise, threw down her book, and, with extended hand, rose to greet her visitor. To him the art he had first studied on the stage had become a second nature. Every movement was proportioned, graceful, harmonious. He fell into no inelegant posture. He did not sit down in a chair without naturally falling into the attitude that an artist would have thought right. That consummate ease and grace which play-goers used to admire in James Wallack were remarkable in Vance, whether in motion or in repose. Taking Laura's proffered hand, he led her to the sofa, where they sat down. After some commonplaces in regard to the news of the day, he remarked: "By the way, do you know of any good school in the city for a young girl, say of fourteen?" "Yes. Mrs. Gentry's school, which I've just left, is one of the most select in the city. Here's her card.” - "But are her pupils all from the best families?"-"I believe so. Indeed, I know the families of all except one.". "And who is she?" "Her name is Ellen Murray, but I call her Darling. I think she must be preparing either for the opera or the ballet; for in music, singing, and dancing she 's far beyond the rest of us.". "And behind you in the other branches, I suppose." "I'm afraid not. She won't be kept back. She must have given twice the time to study that any of the rest of us gave." "Does she seem to be of gentle blood?" "Yes; though Mrs. Gentry tells us she is low-born. For all that, she 's quite pretty, and knows more than Madame Groux herself about dress. And so Darling and I, in spite of Mrs. Gentry, were getting to be quite intimate, when we quarrelled on the slavery question, and separated.”· "What! the little miss is a politician, is she?" "Oh! she's a downright Abolitionist! like a little fury against the wrongs of slavery. I endure it, and so cast her off." Bring her to me. 66 you vain man! talks could n't I'll con But I wish you could hear her sing. Such a voice!". "Could n't you give me an opportunity? You should n't have quarrelled with her, Miss Tremaine! It rather amuses me that she should talk treason. Why not arrange a little musical party? I'll come and play for you a whole evening, if you'll have Darling to sing."-"O, that would be so charming! But then Darling and I have separated. We don't speak."—““ Nonsense! Miss Laura Tremaine can afford to offer the, olive branch to a poor little outcast." "To be sure I can, Mr. Vance! And I'll have her here, if I have to bring her by stratagem.". "Admirable! Just send for me as soon as you secure the bird. And keep her strictly caged till I can hear her sing."—"I'll do it, Mr. Vance. Even the dragon Gentry shall not prevent it." "Shall I try the new piano?" “ O, I've been so longing to hear you!" 66 And Vance, seating himself at the instrument, exerted himself as he had rarely done to fascinate an audience. Laura, who had taste, if not diligence, in music, was charmed and bewildered. "How delightful! How very delightful!" she exclaimed. Vance was growing dangerous. At that moment the servant entered with two cards. "Did you tell them I'm in ?" "Yes, Mahmzel." "Well, then," said Laura, with an air of disappointment, "show them up." And handing the cards to Vance, she asked, "Shall I introduce them?" "Mr. Robert Onslow, Charles Kenrick. Certainly." The young men entered, and were introduced. Kenrick drew near, and said: "Mr. Vance, allow me the honor of taking you by the hand. I've heard of the poor fellow you rescued from the halter of Judge Lynch. In the name of humanity, I thank you. That poor ragged declaimer merely spoke my own sentiments." "Indeed! What did he say?" "He said, according to the Delta's report, that this was the rich man's war; that the laboring man who should lift his arm in defence of slavery was a fool. All which I hold to be true." "Pshaw, Charles ! A truce to politics!" said Onslow. "Why will you thrust it into faces that frown on your wild notions?" "Miss Tremaine reigns absolute in this room," rejoined Vance; "and from the slavery she imposes we have no desire, I presume, to be free." "And her order is," cried Laura, "that you sink the shop. Thank you, Mr. Vance, for vindicating my authority." There was no further jarring. Both the young men were personally fine specimens of the Southern chivalric race. Onslow was the larger and handsomer. He seemed to unite with a feminine gentleness the traits that make a man popular and beloved among men; a charming companion, sunny-tempered, amiable, social, ever finding a soul of goodness in things evil, and making even trivialities surrender enjoyments, where to other men all was barren. Life was to him a sort of grand picnic, and a man's true business was to make himself as agreeable as possible, first to himself, and then to others. Far different seemed Kenrick. To him the important world was that of ideas. All else was unsubstantial. The thought that was uppermost must be uttered. Not to conciliate, not to please, even in the drawing-room, would he be an assentator, a flatterer. To him truth was the one thing needful, and therefore, in season and out of season, must error be combated whenever met. The times were of a character to intensify in him all his idiosyncrasies. He could not smile, and sing, and utter small-talk while his country was being weighed in the balance of the All-just, and her institutions purged as by fire. And so to Laura he dwindled into insignificance. Vance rose to go. "One song. Indeed, I must have one," said Laura. Vance complied with her request, singing a favorite song of Estelle's, Reichardt's "Du liebes Aug', du lieber Stern, Du bist mir nah', und doch so fern!"* Then, pressing Laura's proffered hand, and bowing, he left. "What a voice! what a touch!" said Onslow. "It was enchanting!" cried Laura. "I thought he was a different sort of man," sighed Kenrick. * "Beloved eye, beloved star, Thou art so near, and yet so far!" A CHAPTER XXIV. CONFESSIONS OF A MEAN WHITE. "Throw thyself on thy God, nor mock him with feeble denial; Sure of his love, and O, sure of his mercy at last; Bitter and deep though the draught, yet drain thou the cup of thy trial, Lines composed by Sir John Herschel in a dream. FTER an early breakfast the following morning, Vance proceeded to the hospital. The patient had been expecting him. "He has seemed to know just how near you've been for the last hour," said the nurse. "He followed "Sit down, Mr. Vance, please," interrupted the patient. Vance drew a chair near to the pillow and sat down. "It all kum ter me last night, Mr. Vance! Now I remember whar 't was I met yer. But fust lem me tell yer who an' what I be. My name's Quattles. I was born in South Kerliny, not fur from Columby. I was what the niggers call a mean white, and my father he was a mean white afore me, and all my brothers they was mean whites, and my sisters they mahrrid mean whites. The one thing we was raised ter do fiust-rate, and what we tuk ter kindly from the start, was ter shirk labor. We was taught 't was degradin' ter do useful work like a nigger does, so we all tried hard ter find su'thin' that mowt be easy an' not useful." 66 'My dear fellow," interrupted Vance, who saw the man was suffering, "you 're fatiguing yourself too much. Rest awhile." "No, Mr. Vance. You mus n't mind these twitchin's an' spazums like. They airn't quite as bahd as they look. Wall, as I war sayin', one cuss of slavery ar', it drives the poor whites away from honest labor; makes 'em think it's meansperretid ter hoe corn an' plant 'taters. An' this feelin', yer see, ar' all ter the profit uv the rich men, the Hammonds, Rhetts, an' Draytons, 'cause why? 'cause it leaves ter the |