I reached my plantation, which I was
very near passing without recognising it, so great was the change that
had taken place since my last visit. The rubbish and tree-trunks that
had then encumbered the vicinity of the house had disappeared--the
garden had been increased in size, and surrounded by a new and elegant
fence--a verandah, under which two negro carpenters were at work, ran
along the front and sides of the house. As I walked up from the boat,
young Menou came to meet me. I shook him heartily by the hand, and
expressed my gratitude for the trouble he had taken, and my wonder at
the astonishing progress the improvements of all kinds had made.

"How have you possibly managed to effect all these miracles?" said I.

"Very easily," replied Menou. "You sent us fifteen negroes; my father
lent me ten of his. With these, and the twenty-five you had before, we
were able to make progress. We are now putting the finishing-stroke to
your cotton press, which was fearfully out of order."

I walked with a thankful heart through the garden, and stepped into the
verandah. The rooms that looked out upon it were all fitted up in the
most comfortable manner. In the principal bedroom, a negro girl was
working at the elegant musquitto curtains. Old Sybille, in a calico gown
of the most glaring colours, her face shining with contentment, was
brushing away some invisible dust from the furniture in the parlour.

"By the by," said young Menou, opening a writing-desk, "here are several
letters that have come for you within the last few days, and that amidst
my various occupations I have quite forgotten to forward."

I sat down and opened them. Two were from Richards, the earliest in
date, inviting me to go and stay with him again. The more recent one
renewed the invitation, and expressed the writer's surprise at my having
become on a sudden so domestic a character. In a postscript he added, as
a sort of inducement to me to visit him, that he was daily expecting a
friend of his wife's, the beautiful Emily Warren. Not a syllable,
however, about the eight thousand dollars, which surprised me not a
little; for Richards was by no means a man to remain silent on a subject
affecting his worldly interest, and I fully expected he would have felt
and expressed some pique or resentment at my sudden withdrawal of my
funds. But, on the contrary, the letter I had given to Menou, in which I
requested Richards to pay over the money in question to the C