When, on the morning after her arrival, Eglah entered the cedar-panelled dining-room, and seated herself at the head of the table, where glittered the tall, silver coffee urn with Dirce and her beast in bold relief, she almost expected to see her grandmother's face reflected there as in days gone by, and involuntarily looked over her shoulder with a telepathic impression that behind her chair stood the stately, old, crepe-coifed dame disputing usurpation. Judge Kent drained his second cup of creamless tea, held up the thin, fluted china to examine the twisted signature of the manufacturer, listened to its protest as he carefully thumped it, and pushed it aside. "Eglah, I do not like the room where I slept last night, and I wish a change made to-day." "Why, father? I selected the handsomest room in the house for you. That has always been considered the best--set apart as the guest-chamber." "Well, as I am not a guest, I have no desire to appropriate the perquisites. I prefer the room opening into the library." "Not my grandfather's room--not where grandmother hoarded sacred--" She paused, and the silver fruit knife, with which she peeled a peach, clanged sharply as it fell. "Exactly. I mean the museum of rebel relics. I wish them removed at once, and my own things unpacked and arranged there." "Father, it was grandmother's expressed wish to keep that----" "It is rather late to evoke sentiment in her behalf. She left nothing undone to hamper, annoy, and inconvenience us, and----" "Father! _De mortuis--!_ Although I am her grandchild under protest on her part, she gave me her estate, and the one room she loved ought to be reserved just as she wished." As she leaned to the right of the urn, to look squarely at her father, her face was close to Mrs. Mitchell, who noted its pallor and an ominous curve in the thin lips. Judge Kent beat a muffled tattoo with the prongs of his fork on the handle of a spoon lying near. He smiled, eyed her fixedly, and inclined his head in dismissal. "It is not a question for discussion, but a simply imperative matter of obedience to instructions. I must have the change made at once, and if extra help is needed Aaron will see immediately that it is secured." From the bowl of flowers in the middle of the table he selected a sprig of ruby stock-gilly, inhaled its fragrance, fastened it in his coat, and strolled out on the front colonnade. Over the girl's white face flowed a deep, dull red, and for a moment her slender hands covered it. Then she touched the bell at her left, and smiled bravely at the butler who answered it. "Uncle Aaron, put a pitcher of tea on the ice, so that whenever father needs it I can have it cold. Tell Ma'm Celie I have not had such a good breakfast since I wore short skirts and my hair down my back. Her coffee was perfect, the waffles and beaten biscuit the very best I ever tasted, and the brain croquettes could not be improved."