knocker, in the middle of an oval silver plate, around the edges of
which were raised the square letters of the name "Darrington." The
clanging sound startled a peacock, strutting among the verbena beds,
and his shrill scream was answered by the deep hoarse bark of some
invisible dog; then the heavy door swung open, and a gray-headed negro
man, who wore a white linen apron over his black clothes, and held a
waiter in one hand, stood before her.

"I wish to see Mr. Darrington."

"I reckon you mean Gin'l Darrington, don't you? Mr. Darrington, Marse
Prince Darrington, is in Yurope."

"I mean Mr. Luke Darrington, the owner of this place."

"Jess so; Gin'l Luke Darrington. Well, you can't see him."

"Why not? I must see him, and I shall stay here until I do."

"'Cause he is busy with his lie-yer, fixin' of some papers; and when he
tells me not to let nobody else in I'de ruther set down in a yaller
jacket's nest than to turn the door knob, after he done shut it. Better
leave your name and call ag'in."

"No, I will wait until he is at leisure. I presume my sitting on the
steps here will not be a violation of your orders."

"To be shore not. But them steps are harder than the stool of
repentance, and you had better walk in the drawing-room, and rest
yourself. There's pictures, and lots and piles of things there, you can
pass away the time looking at."

He waved his waiter toward a long, dim apartment, on the left side of
the hall.

"Thank you, I prefer to sit here."

She seated herself on the top of the stone steps, and taking off her
straw hat, fanned her heated brow, where the rich waving hair clung in
damp masses.

"What name, miss, must I give, when the lie-yer finishes his bizness?"

"Say that a stranger wishes to see him about an important matter."

"Its mighty uncertain how long he will tarry; for lie-yers live by
talking; turning of words upside down, and wrong side outards, and
reading words backards, and whitewashing black things, and smutting of
white ones. Marse Lennox Dunbar (he is our lie-yer now, since his pa
took paralsis) he is a powerful wrastler with justice. They do say down
yonder, at the court house, that when he gets done with a witness, and
turns him aloose, the poor creetur is so flustrated in his mind, that
he don't know his own name, on when he was born, or where he was born,
or whether he was ever born at all."

Curiosity to discover the nature of the stranger's errand had
stimula