"They have actually never seen a white servant in their lives, and are eaten up with curiosity over the very superior maid of yours, her intelligence places her so high above their ideas of servitors." "Yes, she is intelligent," agreed the Marquise, "and much more than her intelligence, I value her adaptability. As my housekeeper she was simply perfect, but when my maid grew ill and I was about to travel, behold! the dignity of the housekeeper was laid aside, and with a bewitching maid's cap and apron, and smile, she applied for the vacant position and got it, of course." "It was stupid of me not to offer you a maid," said Mrs. McVeigh, regretfully; "I did not understand. But I could not, of course, have given you any one so perfect as your Louise; she is a treasure." "I shall probably have to get along with some one less perfect in the future," said the other, ruefully. "She was to have had my yacht refurnished and some repairs made while I was here, and now that I am safely located, may send her back to attend to it. She is worth any two men I could employ for such supervision, in fact, I trust many such things to her." "Pray let her remain long enough to gain a pleasant impression of plantation life," suggested Mrs. McVeigh, as they rose from the table. "I fancied she was depressed by the monotony of the swamp lands, or else made nervous by the group of black men around the carriage there at Loringwood; they did look formidable, perhaps, to a stranger at night, but are really the most kindly creatures." Judithe de Caron had walked to the windows opening on the veranda and was looking out across the lawn, light almost as day under the high moon, a really lovely view, though both houses and grounds were on a more modest scale than those of Loringwood. They lacked the grandeur suggested by the century-old cedars she had observed along the Loring drive. The Terrace was much more modern and, possibly, so much more comfortable. It had in a superlative degree the delightful atmosphere of home, and although the stranger had been within its gates so short a time, she was conscious of the wonder if in all her varied experience she had ever been in so real a home before. "How still it all is," remarked Mrs. McVeigh, joining her. "Tomorrow, when my little girl gets back, it will be less so; come out on the veranda and I can show you a glimpse of the river; you see, our place is built on a natural terrace sloping to the Salkahatchie. It gives us a very good view." "Charming! I can see that even in the night time." "Three miles down the river is the Clarkson place; they are most pleasant friends, and Miss Loring's place, The Pines, joins the Terrace grounds, so we are not so isolated as might appear at first; and fortunately for us our plantation is a favorite gathering place for all of them."