“Miss Stella say she busy tryin’ on a dress an’ she can’t come now.” Butler turned on Maggie with sudden fury. “Go back, you little black imp of the devil, and tell her to come down immediately! Immediately, I say!” “Yassah! Yassah!” Maggie panted. She turned back up the stairs jumping three steps at a time, and fell sprawling across the top landing. She reached Stella’s room gasping for breath. Stella turned leisurely from her mirror. “What on earth’s the matter, Maggie?” “De Jedge say ef you doan come dar dis minute he gwine ter come up here and slap yo head off!” “As bad as that, Maggie?” “Yassam. He flung a big book at me an’ hit me right in the head jes case I tell ’im what you say. Didn’t ye hear it?” Stella continued deliberately curling the ringlets about the edges of her raven hair. “Go back and tell him I’ll be down in a minute.” “Yassum. I spec he kill me dis time.” Stella finished her hair, sat down by the window and read a novel for ten minutes and then slowly descended the stairs. The Judge sat slouching low in his chair, and Larkin rose with the instinctive impulse of a gentleman on Stella’s appearance. The girl stared coldly at her father, noted his dressing-gown, turned hastily toward the stairs and began to ascend. “Excuse me,” she said to him with pointed insolence, “I thought you were waiting to receive me.” “Look here, my child, I’ve no time for silly nonsense!” the Judge exclaimed, adjusting the folds of his slouchy robe. “When you have completed your toilet,” she said with a sneering little smile, “I’ll come at once. Please let me know.” “Stella!” sternly called her father. The girl continued without turning her head and disappeared on the floor above. “A stickler for social forms, Larkin,” said the Judge petulantly, rising. “I see,” said the Carpetbagger with amusement. “I’ll have to humour her. Wait for me. We must stop it.” When at length the Judge returned and confronted Stella he was unnerved, while she stood staring at him with a hard glitter in her great brown eyes, complete mistress of every faculty she possessed. “My child,” began Butler, “Larkin tells me that you have invited the Ku Klux raiders to dance here to-night.” “I have,” was the cool answer. “But my dear, you should have consulted me.” “You made me the mistress of this house; why should I consult you about a harmless social gathering of my friends?” “The Klan is a secret order of assassins and desperadoes.” “Please father, don’t!” she interrupted. “Your politics disgust me. These boys are of the best families in town.” “How can you know this?” pleaded the Judge. “They come disguised. Not one of them has ever made himself known.” “Which makes the romance of such a visit all the deeper.” “And its dangers all the greater, my child. Mr. Larkin has come to warn me.” “I agree with your father, Miss Stella,” said Larkin with a grave bow. The girl tossed her head with contempt.