e of Peter's preoccupations was lost upon Captain Renfrew. None is so
suspicious as a credulous man aroused. After Rose had struck her blow at
the secretary, the old gentleman noted all of Peter's permutations and
misconstrued a dozen quite innocent actions on Peter's part into signs
of bad faith.

By a little observation he identified Cissie Dildine and what he saw did
not reestablish his peace of mind. On the contrary, it became more than
probable that the cream-colored negress would lure Peter away. This
possibility aroused in the old lawyer a grim, voiceless rancor against
Cissie. In his thoughts he linked the girl with every manner of evil
design against Peter. She was an adventuress, a Cyprian, a seductress
attempting to snare Peter in the brazen web of her comeliness. For to
the old gentleman's eyes there was an abiding impudicity about Cissie's
very charms. The passionate repose of her face was immodest; the
possession of a torso such as a sculptor might have carved was brazen.
The girl was shamefully well appointed.

One morning as Captain Renfrew came home from town, he chanced to walk
just behind the octoroon, and quite unconsciously the girl delivered an
added fillip to the old gentleman's uneasiness.

Just before Cissie passed in front of the Renfrew manor, womanlike, she
paused to make some slight improvements in her appearance before walking
under the eyes of her lover. She adjusted some strands of hair which had
blown loose in the autumn wind, looked at herself in a purse mirror,
retouched her nose with her greenish powder; then she picked a little
sprig of sumac leaves that burned in the corner of a lawn and pinned its
flame on the unashamed loveliness of her bosom.

This negro instinct for brilliant color is the theme of many jests in
the South, but it is entirely justified esthetically, although the
constant sarcasm of the whites has checked its satisfaction, if it has
not corrupted the taste.

The bit of sumac out of which the octoroon had improvised a nosegay
lighted up her skin and eyes, and created an ensemble as closely
resembling a Henri painting as anything the streets of Hooker's Bend
were destined to see.

But old Captain Renfrew was far from appreciating any such bravura in
scarlet and gold. At first he put it down to mere niggerish taste, and
his dislike for the girl edged his stricture; then, on second thought,
the oddness of sumac for a nosegay caught his attention. Nobody used
sum