When she was gone, the Colonel looked up from the crackling fire, into which he had been gazing long and earnestly, and said, “I presume, Mr. Gilder, my sisteh is without question one of the greatest characters that ever lived, I do indeed, suh. I’m discoverin’, even to this day, new traits of superio’ity and strength in her. Indeed, suh, she is no o’dina’y woman. Though bawn in the South, and possessin’ in a high degree the very great refinement peculiar to our Southern ladies, yet at the same time her diplomacy in accomplishin’ great results equals the shrewdest Nawthe’n Yankee. Indeed, suh, she is a most rema’kable character; yes, suh, most rema’kable.” [252] A little later Homer and Virgie retired, pleading weariness. “Do you know,” said Colonel Bonifield, looking up from the fire again, “since our great discovery was made, I seem to want to do all my sleeping in the mawnin’.” “Papa,” said Louise, “is too busy thinking over and over again his great good fortune to get sleepy; but my! how late he does sleep in the morning!” “He has justly earned,” said Vance, “the rest he claims.’ “Indeed he has,” replied Louise, approaching her father and pushing gently back his long white locks, “you are my darling old papa,” she continued in a caressing way, “and may sit up as late as you like, and sleep until noon every day if it is your wish.” “I’ll tell yo’, Mr. Gilder,” said the Colonel, rising and standing before the fire, “this little girl of mine is bound to spoil me; yes, suh; she always did humor me eveh since I can remembeh, and she is worse now than eveh befo’ Well, well, you’ll have to excuse me until I have another pipe of tobacco.” His elegant suit of black of the latest pattern added to his dignified appearance, and made a strange contrast, Vance thought, with the miner’s garb he had worn for so many years. He pushed through the portieres that opened into the library, and Louise and Vance were left alone, for the first time since the rich discovery had been announced. A doubt came into Vance’s mind whether he was glad of it or not. Heretofore this noble girl whom he had loved so long and patiently had been in a measure dependent upon him—now she was an heiress. He fancied he detected a restraint in her conversation that was embarrassing. His own unworthiness rose up before him, and he was engulfed in the cowardice of a lover! What if she should refuse him? Cross-cutting into a pinched-out vein would be nothing in comparison with such a disappointment. Presently, at his request, she went to the piano, and sang for him.