both
laughed.

For a space Mrs. Ravenel contemplated him, the ecstasy of motherhood
illuminating the glance.

"You are quite the handsomest human being I ever saw, Frank--though I
think I said something like that before."

"You are, of course, unprejudiced, lady mother," he laughed back from
the lowest step.

"It's natural I should be--being only a mother," she explained, gayly.

"Ah," she went on, "I am so happy to have you at home with me! _Not_
happy at having asked those people down. They come on the
twenty-seventh."

"Whom have you asked?"

"The Prescotts."

"Good."

"The Porters and Sallie Maddox."

"Better."

"And Anne Lennox."

There was a silence.

"Did I hear you say 'best'?" Mrs. Ravenel inquired.

"By some wanderment of mind, I forgot it," Frank returned, lightly.

"I am always subtle in my methods," his mother continued. "Note the
adroitness now. Why don't you marry her, Frank?"

"Do you think she would marry me?"

"Don't be foolish. Anne is devoted to you, and you must marry someone.
You are an only son. There is the family name to be thought of, and
there must be a Francis eighth to inherit the good looks of Francis
seventh, must there not? And how I shall hate it!" she added,
truthfully.

Again a silence fell between them before Frank turned the talk with
intention in word and tone.

"About this new overseer?" he asked. "Satisfactory?"

"When not drunk--very."

"Does it"--he smiled--"I mean the drunkenness, not the
satisfaction--occur frequently?"

"I am afraid it does."

"What did McDermott say his name is?"

"Patrick Dulany."

"French, I suppose?" he suggested.

"By all the laws of inference," his mother returned, with an answering
gleam in her eye.

"There seems to have been a Celtic invasion of the Carolinas during my
absence. Has he a family?"

"Only a daughter." And as Frank turned to leave her Mrs. Ravenel asked,
lightly: "How long do you intend to stay here, Frank?"

"I have made no plans," he answered; but going down the carriageway he
said to himself, with a smile: "Mother shows her hand too plainly. The
girl is evidently young and pretty."

The plantation had never seemed so beautiful to him. The wild roses were
in bloom; the fringe-trees and dogwood hung white along the riverbanks;
the golden azaleas, nodding wake-robins, and muskadine flowers looked up
at them from below, while the cotton spread its green tufts miles and
miles away to a sunlit hor