"And aren't you going to forgive your poor 'Cherie'? Are you going to turn against her because of a little whipping? You are unjust, Jeanne. We who have the blacks to deal with know more of this matter than you do. Besides did I not give it up when you asked me?" "Forgive me," answered Jeanne trying to feel the same toward the beautiful woman as she had before, but too full of the recent horror to do so. "I am not used to such things, Cherie, and it will take some time for me to get over them." "We will say no more about it, you quaint one, but go for our drive." And soon they were out in the bright sunshine, the lady pointing out places of interest as she had often done before, but it seemed to the girl that she was trying to impress upon her mind the location of some of the streets particularly. "Now," said Madame after they had returned to the villa and were partaking of refreshments, "now you shall show me again the lunch basket with its curious hiding-place. How clever your father must be, child! I long to know him." "I wish we could go to him," sighed Jeanne as she obediently brought the basket and showed once more the place where the quinine had been concealed. "Perhaps we may soon, who knows?" said the lady gaily, examining the basket closely notwithstanding her liveliness. "I would tell you a secret--but no; not now." "What, Cherie?" cried the girl with eagerness. "Is it about my father?" "Now, now, curious one!" madame shook her finger playfully at her. "Well then, I will tell. I can refuse you nothing, petite. You wind yourself about my heart so. Listen, and you shall hear the grand news. Your uncle and I wonder too why your father does not write. We know that you have a great desire for your home, and so we are going to take you there." "Home! Oh, Cherie!" Jeanne sprang to the lady and embraced her rapturously, "Home! I am so glad! so glad!" "Is it not grand, little one? And we go together to see your clever father and your beautiful mother. But your uncle has much to do first. I will tell you more. He has deeded you all his property. His houses, his carriages, his slaves, his horses, his money, in fact everything which he possesses. Is he not kind?" "To me?" and Jeanne looked at her in bewilderment. "But why, Cherie?" "Because he thinks so much of you, and then too you are for the Union, and the 'Beast' will not take them from you as he would from us." "But why should General Butler wish to take your property from you?" asked the girl, who knew nothing of the Confiscation Act. In fact knowledge of any kind had been carefully kept from her except such as reflected upon the North. "I do not know, child. Who does?" shrugging her shoulders. "The vagaries of the 'Beast' are not to be kept up with. But it does not matter. You will have them and we will be pleased. We have no children, you know."