"Heigho!" sighed Unity. "'Tis a bridesmaid's gown. I am out with men. I shall never wear a bride's gown." "Don't jest--" "Jest! I never felt less like jesting! I laugh to keep from crying. Here is the coach." The great Fontenoy coach with the Churchill arms on the panel drew up before the porch. It was drawn by four horses, and driven by old Philip in a wig and nosegay. Mingo was behind, and Phyllis's Jim and a little darky ran alongside to open the door and let down the steps. "All alone in that!" exclaimed Cary. "I shall ride with you as far as the old road to Greenwood. Don't say no! I'll hold your flowers." Unity looked down upon the roses in her arms. "They should all be white," she said. "I feel as though I were going to see them bury Jacqueline." Her voice broke, but she bit her lip, forced back the tears, and tried to laugh. "I'm not. I'm going to her wedding--and people know their own business best--and she may be as happy as the day is long! He is fascinating,--he is dreadfully fascinating,--and we have no right to say he is not good--and everybody knows he is going to be great! Why shouldn't she be happy?" "I don't know," answered Cary. "But I know she won't be." "You say that," cried Unity, turning on him, "because you are a Federalist! Well, women are neither Federalists nor Republicans! They have no party and no soul of their own! They are just what the person they love is--" "That's not so," said Cary. "Oh, I know it's not so!" agreed Miss Dandridge, with impatience. "It's just one of those things that are said! But it remains that Jacqueline must be happy. I'll break my heart if she's not! And as long as I live, I'll say that Uncle Dick and Uncle Edward are to blame--" "Where are they?" "Oh, Uncle Dick is in the long field watching the threshing, and Uncle Edward is in the library reading Swift! And Aunt Nancy has ordered black scarfs to be put above the pictures of Uncle Henry and of Great-Aunt Jacqueline that Jacqueline's named for. Oh, oh!" "And Deb?" asked the young man gently. "Deb is at Cousin Jane Selden's. She has been there with Jacqueline a week--she and Miranda. Oh, I know--Uncle Dick is a just man! He does what he thinks is the just thing. Deb shall go visit her sister--every now and then! And all that Uncle Henry left Jacqueline goes with her--there are slaves and furniture and plate, and she has money, too. The Rands don't usually marry so well--There! I, too, am bitter! But Uncle Dick swears that he will never see Jacqueline again--and all the Churchills keep their word. Oh, family quarrels! Deb's coming back to Fontenoy to-morrow--poor little chick! Aunt Nancy's got to have those mourning scarfs taken away before she comes!"