that one could more safely
trust his life with a negro than his portable property."

"Very clever, major! I read your paper, and know that your feeling is
hostile toward the negro, but"--

The major made a gesture of dissent, but remained courteously silent
until Mr. Delamere had finished.

"For my part," the old gentleman went on, "I think they have done very
well, considering what they started from, and their limited
opportunities. There was Adam Miller, for instance, who left a
comfortable estate. His son George carries on the business, and the
younger boy, William, is a good doctor and stands well with his
profession. His hospital is a good thing, and if my estate were clear, I
should like to do something for it."

"You are mistaken, sir, in imagining me hostile to the negro," explained
Carteret. "On the contrary, I am friendly to his best interests. I give
him employment; I pay taxes for schools to educate him, and for
court-houses and jails to keep him in order. I merely object to being
governed by an inferior and servile race."

Mrs. Carteret's face wore a tired expression. This question was her
husband's hobby, and therefore her own nightmare. Moreover, she had her
personal grievance against the negro race, and the names mentioned by
old Mr. Delamere had brought it vividly before her mind. She had no
desire to mar the harmony of the occasion by the discussion of a
distasteful subject.

Mr. Delamere, glancing at his hostess, read something of this thought,
and refused the challenge to further argument.

"I do not believe, major," he said, "that Olivia relishes the topic. I
merely wish to say that Sandy is an exception to any rule which you may
formulate in derogation of the negro. Sandy is a gentleman in ebony!"

Tom could scarcely preserve his gravity at this characterization of old
Sandy, with his ridiculous air of importance, his long blue coat, and
his loud plaid trousers. That suit would make a great costume for a
masquerade. He would borrow it some time,--there was nothing in the
world like it.

"Well, Mr. Delamere," returned the major good-humoredly, "no doubt Sandy
is an exceptionally good negro,--he might well be, for he has had the
benefit of your example all his life,--and we know that he is a faithful
servant. But nevertheless, if I were Mrs. Ochiltree, I should put my
money in the bank. Not all negroes are as honest as Sandy, and an
elderly lady might not prove a match for a burly black b