The inmates of the mansion as well as those without were soon busy in their preparations for a day which all felt must be eventful. That the "millenyum" had not come was soon proved by the commencement of hostilities on the part of Mrs. Baron and Scoville. The latter was approaching the kitchen to interview Aun' Suke when "ole miss" appeared. "Madam," he said, lifting his hat, "will you kindly direct your cook to prepare a breakfast immediately for the wounded? It should be light as well as nutritious, for some are feverish." She paid no more attention to him than if he had not spoken, and entered Aun' Suke's domain. There was a mirthful flash in his dark eyes as he followed her. When she saw him standing in the doorway, her cold stare, more clearly than words, designated him "intruder." He steadily returned her gaze, and Aun' Suke, who had been shouting over freedom the night before, now had the temerity to quiver in all her vast proportions with amusement. "Madam," resumed Scoville, removing his hat, "will you give my orders, or shall I?" "Your orders, sir! and in my kitchen!" "Certainly, madam, and my orders in this instance are simply the dictates of humanity." "I will see that our men are well cared for. I am not responsible for the others." "But I am, and all must fare alike. Cook, prepare a nice light breakfast for all the wounded men before you do anything else." "Yes, mars'r, I 'bey you, I sut'ny will." Scoville strode away to attend to other duties. Mrs. Baron glared after him and then at Aun' Suke, who at once began her work. "Do you mean to say that you'll take no more orders from me?" the old lady asked, in tones of suppressed anger. "Kyant do mo' 'n one ting ter oncet. Ob co'se I git yo' breakfas' when I kin. Reck'n dough we soon hab ter disergree on my wages. I'se a free ooman." "Oh, you are free and I am not. That's the new order of things your Yankee friends would bring about." "La now, misus," said matter-of-fact Aun' Suke, again shaking with mirth at the idea, "you got mo' edication 'n me. Wat de use bein' blin' des on puppose? Spose you en ole mars'r tell me dat ain' a egg" (holding one up): "kyant I see? Hit's broad sun-up. Why not des look at tings ez dey iz? Sabe a heap ob trouble. Yere, you lil niggahs, hep right smart or you neber get yo' breakfas'." Mrs. Baron went back to the house looking as if the end of the world had come instead of the millennium. In the hall she met her husband and Mrs. Whately, to whom she narrated what had occurred. Mr. Baron had settled down into a sort of sullen endurance, and made no answer, but Mrs. Whately began earnestly: "Our very dignity requires that we have no more collisions with a power we cannot resist. Even you, sister, must now see that you gain nothing and change nothing. We can be merely passive in our hostility. The only course possible for us is to endure this ordeal patiently and then win Louise over to our wishes."