"They called it undue influence," he said; "but, on my honour, Tom, I never spoke a political word to Caesar in my life. Of course he'd heard me talk with Tom at dinner. He'd heard me say that the man of his race who would dare to vote with white men would be head and shoulders above his people, a man of mind, a man that any gentleman in the county would be proud to shake by the hand--but seek to influence Caesar! Never, sir!" "Now, there's that Ishmael of mine," said the general aggrievedly. "He no sooner got his vote than he cast it just to spite me. I told the fool he didn't know any more about voting than the old mule Sairy did, and he said he didn't have to know 'nothin' cep'n his name.' He forgot that when they challenged him at the polls, but he voted all the same--voted in my face, sir." They lighted their pipes and sang the praises of that idyllic period which they called "before the war," while Eugenia crept away into the shadows. She was glad that Nicholas would go; glad, glad, glad--so glad that she wept a little in the cold of a dark corner. A week later Dudley came down, and she met him with a friendliness that dismayed and disarmed him. Could a woman be so frankly cordial with a man she loved? Could she face a passion that inspired her with such serene self-poise? He questioned these things, but he did not hesitate. He was of a Virginian line of lovers, and he charged in courtship as courageously as his father had charged in battle. He was magnificent in his youthful ardour, and so fitted for success that it seemed already to cast a prophetic halo about his head. "You are superb," Eugenia had said, half insolently, looking up at him as he stood in the firelight. "How odd that I never noticed it before." "You are looking at yourself in my eyes," he returned gallantly. She shook her head. "There are so many women who like handsome men, it's a pity you can't fall in love with one," she said coldly. "Am I to infer that you prefer ugly men?" he questioned. "I--oh! I am too good-looking to care," she replied. She sprang up suddenly and stood beside him. "We do look well together," she said with grave audacity. He laughed. "I am flattered. It may weigh with you in your future plans. Come, Eugie, let me love you!" But her mood changed and she dragged him with her out into the autumn fields. In the last days of November a long rain came--a ruinous autumnal rain that beat the white roads into livid streams of mud and sent the sad dead leaves in shapeless tatters to the earth. The glory of the fall had brought back the glory of her love; its death revived the agony of the long decay.