Clorinda's heart swelled like a rising tide under Vic's hypocritical condolence, but she could not be quite convinced about the turban; she was a woman of resources, however, and felt that the evil was not without its remedy. So she kindled an immense quantity of wax-lights, crowded them before her looking-glass, and at once commenced the mysteries of a full toilet. The result was so satisfactory when she took a survey of her pink barege dress, covered with innumerable small flounces, and the gorgeous white gauze scarf, glittering with silver, which formed a turban, with long sweeping ends falling to the left shoulder--that she melted at once towards the girl who had helped to make her so resplendent. "Jes see what splendiferous idees that chile Miss Elsie hab, Vic," she cried, shaking the flounces into place over her enormous crinoline. "Now 'serve she never wore dis sumptious dress more en once, but sent it down here good as new; 'sides de turban, jes see it shine. Yes, Vic, I forgives yer, so don't rub dem knuckles in yer eyes no more." Vic darted away, and in a marvellously short time came back glorious, her hair braided in with scarlet ribbons, and a dress of several gorgeous colors fluttering with every joyous movement of her slender person. She was pluming herself before the glass when Clorinda started up. "What am dat?" "Dat? why it am a carriage. Oh, golly, golly, they'm coming," cried Vic, wild with delight; and away the two darkies went down the great staircase and into the hall, where the honors of the house were extended with astonishing elegance. Two or three wagons sat down their sable loads, and directly the sounds of a brace of fiddles rang though the basement story, and the laundry floor vibrated to the elastic tread of dancers, whose natural love of music gave grace and spirit to every movement. The two fiddles poured out triumphant strains of music, and in every particular Clorinda's ball was a success. At last Clorinda disappeared from the laundry, and Dolf followed her into the supper-room, where he fell into raptures over the gorgeousness of the table. "Yes," said the housekeeper, modestly, "but how am we to get 'long without wine; Marse Mellen carried off de keys, and without dat--" "Jes look here!" cried Dolf, holding up a key which had been resting in his pocket; "catch me unprepared; I thought about the wine." Clorinda almost embraced Dolf in her delight, but in his haste to reach the wine-cellar, he did not seem to observe the demonstration. When her lover came back with his arms full of long-necked bottles, Clorinda's happiness was supreme, and directly after there was a rush of feet and abrupt silence with the two fiddlers. The company had gone in to supper. After the rush and bustle had subsided a little, Dolf placed himself at the head of the table, with a corkscrew in one hand and a bottle in the other. "Oh, my!" whispered Virginia, "I hope dar's lots of pop in it."