"Well," said the lady, as lightly as her habitual sadness ever permitted, "I will answer truly." "I know you will speak truly whatever you do answer; but will you speak the whole truth in answer to whatever I shall ask?" A sad and afflicted expression appeared upon her countenance as she replied, "I need hardly say to Mr. Chevillere, that those questions which are proper for him to ask and for me to hear shall be fully answered." "You do me but justice in supposing that I would not discredit my new dignity, by propounding questions which would lessen me in the eyes of a fair witness; but, to tell you the truth, I seriously meditated putting a few in addition to such as were local, and perhaps in a more serious mood than these might demand." "Proceed, sir, proceed," said the lady, somewhat perturbed; "I must reserve the right to answer or not. No trifling impediment, however, shall prevent me from gratifying your curiosity." "Would you consider it a great misfortune to reside in the southern states?" "Places and countries are to me nearly alike." "How so? You surely prefer your native land to all others?" "Unhappiness soon makes us indifferent to mere locality; situated as I am, many would prefer new scenes." "Does not affliction enlarge the heart, and extend the affections?" "I believe that slight sufferings make us captious--great ones, humane and benevolent." "Is it a natural consequence, that, when benevolence becomes universal, personal affections and partialities wither in proportion?" "Certainly not, as a consequence; but it is questionable whether blighted hopes do not generally precede the enlarged philanthropy spoken of." "May not much travelling and experience of the world produce the same effect?" "I cannot speak experimentally on that point; but I think it is very probable they do upon a masculine mind." As Chevillere was about to continue his half-serious, half-jesting questions, Mr. Brumley abruptly entered, and announced to his daughter-in-law his determination to proceed northward early on the following morning; and almost at the same moment, old Cato, with his stately step, profound bow, and cap in hand, presented a letter to his master, which he instantly knew by the superscription to be from Randolph. Presenting his regards to them both, he retired to peruse the epistle, which will be found in the next chapter. CHAPTER VIII. B. RANDOLPH TO V. CHEVILLERE. "Belville, High Hills of the Santee, S. Carolina. "DEAR CHUM,