avagant sportsmen did much to diminish its wealth--generous,
reckless and charming men--but they planted mortgages side by side
with their rice fields. Those encumbrances have, I fancy, prevented
Gertrude from being as fond of the place as most girls would be of so
fine an ancestral home."

"Possibly she lacks the gamester blood of her forefathers and can have
no patience with their lack of the commercial instinct."

"I really do believe that is just it," said Mrs. McVeigh. "I never had
thought of it in that way myself, but Gertrude certainly is not at all
like the Lorings; she is entirely of her mother's people, and they are
credited with possessing a great deal of the commercial instinct. I
can't fancy a Masterson gambling away a penny. They are much more
sensible; they invest."

The cedar avenues had been left a mile behind, and they had entered
again the pine woods where even the moon's full radiance could only
scatter slender lances of light. The Marquise leaned back with
half-shut slumberous eyes, and confessed she was pleased that it would
be later, instead of this evening, that she would have the pleasure of
meeting the master and mistress of Loringwood--the drive through the
great stretches of pine had acted as a soporific; no society for the
night so welcome as King Morpheus.

The third woman in the carriage silently adjusted a cushion back of
Madame's head. "Thank you, Louise," she said, yawning a little. "You
see how effectually I have been mastered by the much remarked languor
of the South. It is delightfully restful. I cannot imagine any one
ever being in a hurry in this land."

Mrs. McVeigh smiled and pointed across the field, where some men were
just then running after a couple of dogs who barked vociferously in
short, quick yelps, bespeaking a hot trail before them.

"There is a living contradiction of your idea," she said; "the
Southerners are intensity personified when the game is worth it; the
game may be a fox chase or a flirtation, a love affair or a duel, and
our men require no urging for any of those pursuits."

They were quite close to the men now, and the Marquise declared they
were a perfect addition to the scene of moonlit savannas backed by the
masses of wood now near, now far, across the levels. Two of them had
reached the road when the carriage wheels attracted attention from the
dogs, and they halted, curious, questioning.

"Why, it's our Pluto!" exclaimed Mrs. McVeigh; "stop the