The truth about the absence of the bridegroom had to be told some time or other, and so she told them then and there of the interrupted wedding, and of the identity of their new guest as the lawful wife of Col. Anglesea. Though the faithful negroes were full of wrath against the impostor, and would have liked to hang him on a tree until dead, yet, upon the whole, they were glad of what had happened. They had never liked "the furriner," as they called Col. Anglesea, and they felt secretly delighted that he was not to marry their young mistress, to take her away to "furrin" parts. "To go to want to marry our young mistress, and he wid anoder wife libin'! Oh, de wickedness ob mankind! But it is a habit dey gibs deirselves, child'en! 'Deed it is! Nuffin' 'tall but a habit dey gibs deirselves!" said Aunt Lucy, dogmatically. "But 'bout de deception, miss?" inquired the cook. "There will be no reception. The minister was requested to announce from the chancel that there could be none," replied the young lady. "Lor'! Lor'! Lor'! An' all dem good t'ings to eat goin' to waste!" deplored the cook. "They need not. Cakes and sweetmeats and candies will keep until they are consumed." "Yes, miss; but de chickun sallit, an' de bone turkey, an' de pattydy four craws, dey won't keep till to-morrow, not even on ice." "I suppose, then, that what cannot be consumed to-day must be lost. I see no remedy." "An' whey we gwine to set de dinner table, w'en de dinin' room is all took up long ob de weddin' feas' spread out on dat yonder stension table? We ain't got time to take all de fings offen dat!" "No, indeed, you have not. You had better lock up the dining room, just as it stands, to wait your mistress' orders, and set the table in the sitting room." CHAPTER XXIV THE FORSAKEN WIFE'S STORY Having given her last instructions, Miss Meeke returned to the drawing room, where she found the new guest, extended at length on the blue, velvet sofa, with her chubby hands clasped under her head on one end and her stoutly booted feet elevated on the other. She was fast asleep and snoring sonorously. Wynnette and Elva were standing gazing on her, with their faces full of guilty fear. "What is the matter here?" inquired the governess. "Oh, Miss Meeke," exclaimed Wynnette, "I'm afraid she's half seas over! I mean--I mean----" "Elva, do you tell me what is all this--if you know," said the governess, seeing that Wynnette had broken down in her attempt to explain. "Oh, Miss Meeke," said Elva, taking up the thread of the discourse, "when we finished playing the duet, she there on the sofa asked for a glass of wine, and Wynnette and I went ourselves to get it for her, and we went into the dining room, where the beautiful wedding table is set out and all the wines in cut-glass decanters on the sideboard. And--and--I am afraid--I know--we made a mistake and poured out a claret glass full of cognac brandy and brought it to her." "And did she drink it?"