Miss Kate Darlington was the only daughter of Thaddeus Darlington, a real down-eastern Yankee, who had imbibed all those unreasonable prejudices prevailing in the New England States against all citizens of the South. He had been sent South by the government to look after some defaulting revenue collectors, and after discharging that duty, he concluded to locate in Jackson, Mississippi. His daughter, Kate, had received a polished education, but she had been petted and flattered until she was pretty well spoiled. Her disposition was gentle and kind when things went smoothly, but she had a temper which often got the upper hand, and then she usually made matters rather unpleasant. After the maskers had dispersed Miss Darlington stole away from the crowd, and took a seat behind the ladies’ cabin, in order to have what she called a day dream. A sentiment of a mysterious nature had of late been disturbing her mind--a strange feeling not altogether painful, and not entirely pleasant. A kind of joyful pain--a happy sorrow--a pleasant fear. “What is the matter with me?” was the question she asked herself. “What sort of a pain is this that is mixed with delicious pleasure? How strange that such joy can be concealed under such misery!” While she was thus soliloquizing the image of a man would every now and then pass across the path of her imagination. She could see the image plainer when her eyes were shut than with them open; and despite her efforts to drive it away, it would keep thrusting itself before her, sometimes in one shape, then in another, but always with the same look--the same form; that shape was the exact counterpart of the gallant sir knight of Ivanhoe.