From the road the big house and its tangled yard made a charming picture of sleepy tranquility. But “round back” all was bustling activity. “The Christmas” was over. Aunt Lou had emphasized the fact in no uncertain terms. “Yo black scamps clean up all dis hyear trash!” Rakes, brooms, mops and wheelbarrows were whisking. There were sleepy groans and smart cuffs. Already one round bottom had been spanked. Everybody knew New Year’s was a day to start things _right_. Aunt Lou’s standards and authority were unquestioned. Mis’ Betsy would be coming along soon. And Lawd help if everything wasn’t spick and span by then! ’Course Master William was already up and out on that mare of hissen. But nobody minded Master William too much. Though he could lay it on if he got mad! Most of the time he didn’t pay no ’tention to nothin’--not a thing. Then came a strange nigger leading Master William’s horse. _Well!_ The young ones stopped and stared, finger in mouth. Susan, shaking a rug out of an upstairs window, nearly pitched down into the yard. John and Handy regarded the intruder with eager interest. Sandy turned and just looked at him. Frederick’s pulse raced, but he made no sign of recognition either. Then “voodoo” Sandy smiled, and everybody relaxed. _So!_ In the high wainscoted dining room young Henry was serving breakfast. Old Caleb always served dinner--and even breakfast when there were guests--but Henry was in training under the eye of his mistress. Polished silver, gleaming white linen and sparkling glasses--all the accoutrements of fine living were there. A slight woman in a soft black silk dress with an ivory-colored collar, sat across from Master William. Her hair was white, but her blue-veined hands had not been worn by the years and her eyes remained bright and critical. The mistress of Freelands had not aged; she had withered. “Henry!” She rapped the table with her spoon. “Be careful there! How many times have I told you not to use those cups for breakfast?” “Please, Mis’ Betsy.” Henry’s tone was plaintive. “’Tain’t none of mah fault. Caleb set ’em out, ma’m. They was sittin’ right hyear on tha sideboard.” “Stop whining, Henry!” Her son seldom spoke with such impatience. Mrs. Freeland glanced at him sharply. “Yessah, Massa William, but--” began Henry. “He’s quite right, Mother,” Freeland interrupted. “Caleb served coffee to the Tilghmans before they left. I had a cup myself.” “I’m glad of that.” The cups were forgotten. “I had no idea they were leaving so early. I should have been up to see my guests off.” “No need at all, Mother. I accompanied the carriage a good piece down the road. They’ll make it back to Richmond in no time.” “It was nice having them for the holidays.” She tasted her coffee critically.