indeed,
much to delight them in the stately, palatial homes set in the midst of
exquisitely kept lawns and wonderful groves of magnolia and oak. Quite
as interesting to them all, however, was the old French or Latin Quarter
below Canal Street, where were the Creole homes and business houses.
Here they ate their luncheon, too, in one of the curious French
restaurants, famous the world over for its delicious dishes.

With the disappearance of the last mouthful on her plate, Tilly drew a
long breath.

"I've always heard Creoles were awfully interesting," she sighed. "Do
you know--I don't think I'd mind much being a Creole myself!"

"You look so much like one, too," laughed Genevieve, affectionately,
patting the soft, fluffy red hair above the piquant, freckled little
face.

At five o'clock that afternoon a tired but happy party reached the hotel
in time to rest and dress for dinner.

"Well," sighed Genevieve, "I'd have liked a week here, but a day has
been pretty good. We've seen enough 'Quarters' to make a 'whole,' and
the Cathedral, and dozens of other churches, and we've driven along
those lovely lakes with the unpronounceable names; and now I'm ready for
dinner."

"And we saw a statue--the Margaret Statue," cut in Cordelia, anxiously.
"You know it's the _first_ statue ever erected to a woman's memory in
the United States. We wouldn't want to forget that!"

"Well, I should like to," retorted Genevieve, perversely. "It's only so
much the worse for the United States--that it wasn't done before!"

"I think Genevieve is going to be a suffragette," observed Tilly,
cheerfully, as they trooped into the hotel together.

It was from New Orleans that Cordelia Wilson wrote a letter to Mr.
William Hodges. She had decided that it would be easier to write her bad
news than to tell it. Then, too, she disliked to keep the old man any
longer in suspense. She made her letter as comforting as she could.

"MR. WILLIAM HODGES, SIR:--" she wrote. "I am very
sorry to have to tell you that I have looked, but
cannot find your oil well anywhere. I did find a
man who had heard about it, but he said there
wasn't any well at all like what the Boston man
told you there was. He said it was a bad swindle
and he knew many others who had lost their money,
too, which I thought would please you. O dear, no,
I don't mean that, of course. I only mean that