he
great ostrich plume that nodded over her wide-brimmed hat, to the
pointed toe of the patent leather boot that peeped from under her
gown--a filmy gauzy thing setting loosely to her slender shapely
figure. She laughed at the somberness of her reflection, which she at
once set about relieving with a great bunch of geraniums--big and
scarlet and long-stemmed, that she thrust slantwise through her belt.

Melicent, always charming, was very pretty when she laughed. She
thought so herself and laughed a second time into the depths of her
dark handsome eyes. One corner of the large mouth turned saucily
upward, and the lips holding their own crimson and all that the cheeks
were lacking, parted only a little over the gleaming whiteness of her
teeth. As she looked at herself critically, she thought that a few
more pounds of flesh would have well become her. It had been only the
other day that her slimness was altogether to her liking; but at
present she was in love with plumpness as typified in Mrs. Lafirme.
However, on the whole, she was not ill pleased with her appearance,
and gathering up her gloves and parasol, she quitted the room.

It was "broad day," one of the requirements which Gregoire had named
as essential for taking Melicent to visit old McFarlane's grave. But
the sun was not "shining mighty bright," the second condition, and
whose absence they were willing enough to overlook, seeing that the
month was September.

They had climbed quite to the top of the hill, and stood on the very
brink of the deep toilsome railroad cut all fringed with matted grass
and young pines, that had but lately sprung there. Up and down the
track, as far as they could see on either side the steel rails
glittered on into gradual dimness. There were patches of the field
before them, white with bursting cotton which scores of negroes, men,
women and children were dexterously picking and thrusting into great
bags that hung from their shoulders and dragged beside them on the
ground; no machine having yet been found to surpass the sufficiency of
five human fingers for wrenching the cotton from its tenacious hold.
Elsewhere, there were squads "pulling fodder" from the dry corn
stalks; hot and distasteful work enough. In the nearest field, where
the cotton was young and green, with no show of ripening, the overseer
rode slowly between the rows, sprinkling plentifully the dry powder of
paris green from two muslin bags attached to the ends of a s