"How does she seem now?"

"She has had a good, hearty spell of wholesome crying; no hysterics,
mind you, but floods of tears; and now she is sound asleep with her
head on the altar railing, in the chapel. I locked her up there, and
here is the key. When she wakes, I want her brought up here, put in
that room yonder, and left entirely to me, until her trial is over. I
never do things half way, Ned, and you need not pucker your eyebrows,
for I will be responsible for her. I have put my hand to the plough,
and you are not to meddle with the lines, till I finish my furrow."

CHAPTER VIII.

In one of the "outhouses" which constituted the servants' quarters, in
that which common parlance denominated the "back-yard" at "Elm Bluff,"
an old negro woman sat smoking a pipe.

The room which she had occupied for more than forty years, presented a
singular melange of incongruous odds and ends, the flotsam of a long
term of service, where the rewards, if intrinsically incommensurate,
were none the less invaluable, to the proud recipient. The floor was
covered by a faded carpet, once the pride of the great drawing-room,
but the velvet pile had disappeared beneath the arched insteps and high
heels of lovely belles and haughty beaux, and the scarlet feathers and
peacock plumes that originally glowed on the brilliant buff ground,
were no longer distinguishable.

An old-fashioned piece of furniture, coeval with diamond shoe-buckles,
ruffled shirts and queues, a brass bound mahogany chiffonier, with
brass handles and tall brass feet representing cat claws, stood in one
corner; and across the top was stretched a rusty purple velvet strip,
bordered with tarnished gilt gimp and fringe, a fragment of the cover
which belonged to the harp on which General Darrington's grandmother
had played.

The square bedstead was a marvel in size and massiveness, and the heavy
mahogany posts nearly black with age, and carved like the twisted
strands of a rope, supported a tester lined with turkey-red pleatings,
held in the centre by the talons of a gilt spread-eagle. So tall was
the bed, that three steps were required to ascend it, and the space
thus left between the mahogany and the floor, was hidden by a valance
of white dimity, garnished with wide cotton fringe. Over this spacious
place of repose, a patchwork quilt of the "rising sun" pattern
displayed its gaudy rays, resembling some sprawling octopus, rather
than the face of Phoebus.

T