cked them off on her fingers--Sir James Creighton, the rich
English manufacturer, and Lady Creighton, Mr. and Mrs. Vanderpool, Mr.
Harry Cresswell and his sister, John Taylor and his sister, and Mr.
Charles Smith, whom the evening papers mentioned as likely to be United
States Senator from New Jersey--a selection of guests that had been
determined, unknown to the hostess, by the meeting of cotton interests
earlier in the day.
Mrs. Grey's chef was high-priced and efficient, and her butler was the
envy of many; consequently, she knew the dinner would be good. To her
intense satisfaction, it was far more than this. It was a most agreeable
couple of hours; all save perhaps Mr. Smith unbent, the Englishman
especially, and the Vanderpools were most gracious; but if the general
pleasure was owing to any one person particularly it was to Mr. Harry
Cresswell. Mrs. Grey had met Southerners before, but not intimately, and
she always had in mind vividly their cruelty to "poor Negroes," a
subject she made a point of introducing forthwith. She was therefore
most agreeably surprised to hear Mr. Cresswell express himself so
cordially as approving of Negro education.
"Why, I thought," said Mrs. Grey, "that you Southerners rather
disapproved--or at least--"
Mr. Cresswell inclined his head courteously.
"We Southerners, my dear Mrs. Grey, are responsible for a variety of
reputations." And he told an anecdote that set the table laughing.
"Seriously, though," he continued, "we are not as black as the blacks
paint us, although on the whole I _prefer_ that Helen should marry--a
white man."
They all glanced at Miss Cresswell, who lay softly back in her chair
like a white lily, gleaming and bejewelled, her pale face flushing under
the scrutiny; Mrs. Grey was horrified.
"Why--why the idea!" she sputtered. "Why, Mr. Cresswell, how can you
conceive of anything else--no Northerner dreams--"
Mr. Cresswell sipped his wine slowly.
"No--no--I do not think you do _mean_ that--" He paused and the
Englishman bent forward.
"Really, now, you do not mean to say that there is a danger of--of
amalgamation, do you?" he sang.
Mr. Cresswell explained. No, of course there was no immediate danger;
but when people were suddenly thrust beyond their natural station,
filled with wild ideas and impossible ambitions, it meant terrible
danger to Southern white women.
"But you believe in some education?" asked Mary Taylor.
"I believe in the train
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