the feathers
of the cardinal bird, without other ornament than a bunch of white ribbon
on the front and two long cords of white silk falling clear to the waist.
That was the first hat of the kind I ever saw, but it was not the last.
With one turn of her little hand she could make the whole female
population of St. Martinville go as she pleased. Before we left St.
Martinville we had the chance to admire more than fifty hats covered with
the feathers of peacocks, geese, and even guinea-fowl, and--must we
confess it?--when we got home we enlisted all our hunter friends to bring
us numerous innocent cardinals, and tried to make us hats; but they did
not look the least like the pretty widow's.

Sunday was also the day given to visiting. Being already dressed, it was
so easy to go see one's friends.... Among the new visitors was Saint Marc
d'Arby--engaged to little Constance de Blanc, aged thirteen. He came to
invite us to a picnic on the coming Wednesday.

"Ah," I cried, with regret, "the very day papa has chosen for us to leave
for the town of Opelousas!" ...

Since arriving in St. Martinville we had hardly seen papa. He left early
each morning and returned late in the evening, telling of lands he had
bought during the day. His wish was to go to Opelousas to register
them.... To-day the whole town of Opelousas belongs to his heirs; but
those heirs, with Creole heedlessness and afraid to spend a dollar, let
strangers enjoy the possession of the beautiful lands acquired by their
ancestor for so different an end. Shame on all of them!

It was decided for papa to leave us with the baroness during his visit to
Opelousas.

"And be ready to depart homeward," said he, "on the following Monday."

XVI.

THE BALL.

The evening before that of the ball gave us lively disappointment. A fine
rain began to fall. But Celeste came to assure us that in St. Martinville
a storm had never prevented a ball, and if one had to go by boat, still
one had to go. Later the weather improved, and several young gentlemen
came to visit us.... "Will there be a supper, chevalier?" asked the
baroness of her future son-in-law.--"Ah, good! For me the supper is the
best part of the affair."

Alas! man proposes. The next morning she was in bed suffering greatly with
her throat. "Neither supper nor ball for me this evening," she said. "The
Countess de la Houssaye will take care of you and Celeste this evening."...

At last our toilets were comp