I do not know how it is that I can put into words the beautiful feeling that rose from the inwardness of me as I stood in front of the home of my fathers in this far-away America. The entire city of Hayesville is a city of old homes, I had noticed as I drove in the gray car so rapidly along with Mr. Buzz Clendenning while he was speaking to me, but no house had been so beautiful as was this one. It was old, with almost the vine-covered age of the Chateau de Grez, but instead of being of gray stone it was of a red brick that was as warm as the embers of an oak fire with the film of ashes crusting upon it. Thus it seemed to be both red and gray beneath the vines that were casting delicate green traceries over its walls. Great white pillars were to the front of it like at the Mansion of the Gouverneur, and many wide windows and doors opened out from it. Two old oak trees which give to it the name of Twin Oaks stood at each side of the old brick walk that led from the tall gate, and as I walked under them I felt that I had from a cruel world come home. CHAPTER VII THE GIRL BUNCH And, if I felt in that manner as I entered the house, I felt it to a still greater degree when I was welcomed by that most lovely old black slave woman of the high temper and good cookery. She opened the door for us herself, though a nice boy the color of a chocolate bonbon stood in waiting to perform that office. She had a spoon in her hand and upon her head was a spotless white turban, as also was an apron of an equal spotlessness tied around her very large waist. "You, Mas' Robert, you done come home from the heathen land to keep my food waiting jest like yo' father did from the minute I ontied him from my apron string. Come right into the dining room 'fore my gravy curdles and the liver wing I done saved for you gits too brown in the skillet," was all of the introduction or greeting that she gave to me as she waddled along behind Mr. Buzz Clendenning and myself, driving us down the hall and into the dining-room. "Mas' Buzz, how is yo' mother? I 'lowed to git over to see her soon as this ruckus of young Mas' coming home is over. Now, here's the place fer you both and that no 'count boy will bring in yo' dinner proper to you or he'll be skunt alive." With which she departed through a door, from which came an aroma that led to madness of hunger, and left the bonbon servant to attend us. "Gee, I hope Kizzie killed by the half dozen last night; if there aren't three chickens apiece you'll be hungry, L'Aiglon," said Mr. Buzz Clendenning with a laugh as he seated himself beside me and unfolded his napkin.