"I reckon they are all at breakfast, and the coffee will be stark cold when I get there. I wish they had waked me up, but I reckon they thought I was tired. I am never too tired to eat," she muttered to herself as she went downstairs. She hurried directly to the dining room, where she found a fine, open fire burning, and Luce engaged in setting the table. "Why, Lord!" said the visitor. "Ain't you had breakfast yet? I thought as I should be ever so late!" "Dear me, ma'am! Is it you? W'y didn't you ring?" inquired, in turn, the surprised negro woman. "Ring? What should I ring for?" demanded the visitor, drawing a chair before the blazing fire, seating herself, putting her feet upon the fender, and pulling up the edge of her skirt to toast her shins. Luce paused in her task of placing the knives and forks to look at the vandal. "Why, ma'am, for somebody to come an' wait on yer, an' fix the fire, an' fetch hot water, an' that," she said. "Fiddle-de-dee! Wait on your granny!" said the stranger, holding her chubby hands over the fire, and rubbing them, with a sense of comfort. But Luce had finished placing the knives and forks, and was now bringing china from a corner buffet. "What's that you have got in your hand there? Is it the sugar pot?" asked the intruder. "Yes, ma'am," answered the perplexed woman. "Hold it here to me." Luce complied, and the visitor took the sugar bowl and poured from it a handful of white lumps, and returned it, saying: "I reckon I'll champ this sugar to pass away the time while I'm waiting for 'em to come down." "Ain't you afeared it will take away your appetite for breakfast, ma'am?" inquired Luce. "Take away my appetite? Ho! ho! ho! That's a good un!" chuckled the guest, as she crunched the sugar in her strong, white teeth. "Don't yer think as yer'd be more comferable in de parlor, ma'am? Dere's a splendid fire burning dere," suggested Luce. "No. I'm all right here. I feel just as 'snug as a bug in a rug.' Don't mind, nigger. Go on and do your work." "Nigger!" Luce had never been so insulted in all her life before, yet she saw that the good-natured creature who was toasting herself before the fire did not mean to insult her. "Say! I s'pose you've heard all about me, haven't you?" inquired the latter. "Ma'am?" questioned Luce, hardly knowing how to answer. "I say, you know who I am, don't you?" "Oh, yes, ma'am. You are Col. Anglesea's lady," promptly replied Luce. "'Col. Anglesea's lady?' What do you mean by that, nigger? I am Col. Anglesea's wife, I'd have you to know! Now, what did you mean by 'lady'?" demanded the stranger, with spirit. "I am sure, ma'am, I didn't mean no offense wotsomdever. I meant to be more 'spectful in sayin' lady," soothingly replied Luce. "Well, then, never do you call me a 'lady.' 'Lady' is too unsartain a word. I'm that man's wife, not 'lady.'" "That's true, ma'am, an' I'm sorry as I made a mistake," said Luce, more humbly, because of a secret irony.