As the young lady did not reply to this, the woman felt driven to say, more decidedly: “You looks moughty youngish for de like ob sich, and I’d eben fink as yer ma or aunt would be goin’ wid you; but is yer gwine to buy yer weddin’ close?” “Perhaps,” said Gloria. “Dere! I did guess it, arter all!” triumphantly exclaimed the woman. Then, to stop further examination, Gloria determined to turn the tables by questioning the questioner. “What is your name, auntie?” she hastened to inquire. “Laweeny Long, dough dey do mostly call me Long Laweeny, ’cause, yer see, honey, I is ober six feet tall, which can’t be said for all the men, let alone wimmin. Lay-wee-ny Long, honey! One ob de La Compte colored ladies, honey, and been runnin’ stewardess long o’ Cappin Bright ebber since my mist’ess died.” “You are Lavinia, one of the La Compte colored people?” questioned Gloria, in surprise. “Hi, what I tell yer? Yes, honey, one ob de La Compte colored ladies, I is. My mist’ess was Miss Eleano La Compte, what married a speckled foreigner, which he was a great man in his own country, too, I b’liebe! Howseber, he’s dead, and so is she, and lef’ one only darter an’ heiress, my present young mist’ess, dough I hab nebber seed her—Miss Delia Werry.” “Miss de la Vera, do you mean?” “Yes, honey, dat’s zactly what I said. Miss Delia Werry. Does yer know her, honey?” “Not very well,” replied Gloria, with a smile. “At least, I may say with truth that I don’t know much good of her.” “Now, look here, young gal!” wrathfully exclaimed Long Laweeny, “don’t you go a back-bitin’ my young mist’ess behind her back! Now, I tell yer good, don’t you! She’s my young mist’ess, she is, and what harm does you know of her, pray? Dere, now, what harm does you know of her?” “I did not say that I knew any harm of her; and, moreover, if it will give you any satisfaction, auntie, I can tell you that I love Miss de la Vera very much, very much more than any one else in the world, I am afraid.” “Den I’m glad yer does. But what make yer say yer don’t know no good o’ she?” inquired the woman, doubtfully. “Oh, I was jesting, you see, only jesting; for I have as much respect for Miss de la Vera as I have for myself.” “Den yer mus’ know her right well?” “No, I’m sure I don’t, not half as well as I would like to know her. But now—you say you belong to the estate. How comes it then that you are here as stewardess on this steamboat?”