thought her attitude and cry had meant only despair at her failure
to stop him, but, perhaps--

He found her in the same place; the oval portrait was open in her
hand, as though her last look had been given to the pretty mother,
whose memory she had cherished, and whose race she had fought for.

Margeret was crouched beside her, silent as ever, her dark eyes
strange, unutterable in expression, were fixed on the beautiful face,
but the stray bullet had done its work quickly--she had been quite
dead when Margeret reached her.

* * * * *

Monroe told McVeigh the true story of the portrait that night. The
two men sat talking until the dawn broke. Delaven was admitted to the
conference long enough to hear certain political reasons why the
marriage of that morning should continue to remain a secret, and when
the mistress of Loringwood was laid to rest under the century-old
cedars, it was as Judithe, Marquise de Caron.

In settling up the estate of Matthew Loring, who died a few days
later, speechless to the last, Judge Clarkson had the unpleasant task
of informing Gertrude that for nearly twenty years one of the slaves
supposed to belong to her had been legally free. Evidence was found
establishing the fact that Tom Loring had given freedom to Margeret
and her child a few days previous to that last, fatal ride of his.
Matthew Loring had evidently disapproved and suppressed the
knowledge.

Gertrude made slight comment on the affair, convinced as she was that
the woman was much better off in their household than dependent on
herself, and was frankly astonished that Margeret returned at once to
Loringwood, and never left it again for the three remaining years of
her life.

Gertrude was also surprised at the sudden interest of Kenneth in her
former bondwoman, and when the silent octoroon was found dead beside
the tomb of her master, it was Kenneth McVeigh who arranged that she
be placed near the beautiful stranger who had dwelt among them for
awhile.

A year after the war ended Gertrude, the last of the once dominant
Lorings, married an Alabama man, and left Carolina, to the great
regret of Mrs. Judge Clarkson and sweet Evilena Delaven. They felt a
grievance against Kenneth for his indifference in the matter, and were
disconsolate for years over his persistent bachelorhood.

When he finally did marry, his wife was a pretty little woman, who was
a relative of Jack Monroe, and