minute so distinctly. On our way home we met a negro funeral. I
stopped to look at it. Something, I do not know what, in the long line
of dark figures, orderly and even stately in their demeanour, the
white dresses of the women, the peculiar faces of men and women both,
fascinated my eyes. Preston exclaimed at me again. It was the
commonest sight in the world, he said. It was their pride to have a
grand funeral. I asked if _this_ was a grand funeral. Preston said
"pretty well; there must be several hundred of them and they were well
dressed." And then he grew impatient and hurried me on. But I was
thinking; and before we got to the hotel where we lodged, I asked
Preston if there were many coloured people at Magnolia.

"Lots of them," he said. "There isn't anything else."

"Preston," I said presently, "I want to buy some candy somewhere."

Preston was very much pleased, I believe, thinking that my thoughts
had quite left the current of sober things. He took me to a famous
confectioner's; and there I bought sweet things till my little stock
of money was all gone.

"No more funds?" said Preston. "Never mind--go on, and I'll help you.
Why I never knew you liked sugarplums so much. What next? burnt
almonds? _this_ is good, Daisy--this confection of roses. But you must
take all this sugar in small doses, or I am afraid it wouldn't be just
beneficial."

"O Preston!" I said--"I do not mean to eat all this myself."

"Are you going to propitiate Miss Pinshon with it? I have a
presentiment that sweets won't sweeten her, Daisy."

"I don't know what 'propitiate' means," I said, sighing. "I will not
take the almonds, Preston."

But he was determined I should; and to the almonds he added a quantity
of the delicate confection he spoke of, which I had thought too
delicate and costly for the uses I had purposed; and after the rose he
ordered candied fruits; till a great packet of varieties was made up.
Preston paid for them--I could not help it--and desired them sent
home; but I was bent on taking the package myself. Preston would not
let me do that, so he carried it; which was a much more serious token
of kindness, in him, than footing the bill. It was but a little way,
however, to the hotel. We were in the hall, and I was just taking my
sugars from Preston to carry them upstairs, when I heard Aunt Gary
call my name from the parlour. Instinctively, I cannot tell how, I
knew from her tone what she wanted me for. I put back the p