's yo' case on Miss Lily comin' on?" either one would
say, with a wink at the other, and Apollo would artlessly report the
state of the heavens with relation to his particular star, as when he
once replied to this identical question,

"Well, Miss Lily was mighty obstropulous 'istiddy, but she is mo'
cancelized dis mornin'."

It was Pete who had asked the question, and he laughed aloud at the
answer. "Mo' cancelized dis mornin', is she?" he replied. "How you know
she is?"

"'Caze she lemme tote her hoe all de way up f'om de field," answered the
ingenuous Apollo.

"She did, did she? An' who was walkin' by her side all dat time, I like
to know?"

Apollo winced a little at this, but he answered, bravely, "I don't kyah
ef Pier was walkin' wid her; I was totin' her hoe, all de samee."

At this Pete seemed to forget all about Apollo and his case, and he
remarked that he never could see what some folks saw in city niggers,
nohow--and neither could Apollo. And they felt a momentary sense of
nearness to each other that was not exactly a bond, but they did not
talk any more as they walked along.

It is probable that the coming of the "city fellow" into her circle
hastened to culmination more than one pending romance, and there were
now various and sundry coldnesses existing between Lily and a number of
the boys on the place, where there had recently existed only warm and
hopeful friendships. The intruder, who had a way of shrugging his
shoulders and declaring of almost any question, "Well, me, I dun'no',"
seemed altogether _too sure_ when it came to a question of Lily. At
least so he appeared to her more timid rural lovers.

* * * *

The Christmas-eve dance in the sugar-house had been for years an annual
function on the plantation. At this, since her debut, at fourteen,
three Christmases before, Lily had held undisputed sway, and all former
belles amiably accepted their places as lesser lights. But there had
been some quarrelling and even a fight or two on Lily's account,
indirectly, and the church people had declared against the ball, on the
score of domestic peace on the place. They had fought dancing _per se_
as long as they could, but Terpsichore finally waltzed up the church
aisle, figuratively speaking, and flaunted her ruffled skirts in the
very faces of elders and minister, and they had had to smile and give
her a pew to keep her still. And she was in the church yet,