In the veranda all was cool and restful and pleasingly silent. Isabella, in her white dress, looked beautiful and pensive; while Dido, in a reddish-hued robe, with a crimson 'kerchief twisted round her stately head, gleamed in the semi-gloom like some gorgeous tropical bird astray in our northern climes. Both mistress and maid were silent. It was Dido who spoke first. She noticed that the eyes of her mistress constantly strayed in the direction of "Ashantee," and with the jealousy begotten of deep affection, she guessed that the girl's thoughts were fixed upon the much-hated Maurice. At once she spoke reproachfully, and in the grotesque negro dialect, which, however, coming from Dido's mouth, inspired no one with merriment. "Aha, missy," said she, in deep, guttural tones, "you tink ob dat yaller-ha'r'd man!" "Maurice! Yes, I am thinking about him; and you know why." Dido's fierce black eyes flashed out a gleam of rage, and she cursed Maurice audibly in some barbaric tongue which Isabella seemed to understand. At all events she interrupted the woman's speech with an imperious gesture. "No more of that. Dido. You know that I love Maurice; I wish to marry him. Why are you so bitter against him?" "He take you from me." "Well, if I marry anyone the same thing will happen," responded Isabella, lightly; "and surely. Dido; you do not want me to remain a spinster all my life." "No, missy, no. You marry, an' ole Dido am berry pleased. But dat yaller-ha'r'd man, I no like him; if he marry you, he take you away. He a fool--a big fool!" "Oh, you say that because he does not believe in Obi or Voodoo!" Dido threw up one dark hand with an ejaculation. "Not in de sunlight; dose am de names for de darkness, honey. In de night dey--" "No, no!" cried Isabella, with a shudder. "Don't tell me any more of those horrible things." "Aha, dat de yaller-ha'r who makes you fear!" cried Dido, bitterly. "He hate Obi an' me. He will not marry you, missy!" "Yes he will; we are engaged." "Your mudder, she say no!" "Nonsense! She likes Maurice herself," replied Isabella, uneasily. "Maurice wants our engagement kept quiet for the present, but when I do tell Major Jen and my mother, I am sure neither of them will object." "H'm, we see, missy, we see," said Dido, darkly. "But why you marry dis man I no like?" "Because I marry to please myself, not you," said Isabella, sharply. "Oh, I know your thoughts, Dido; you would like me to marry David Sarby. The idea; as if he can compare with Maurice!" "Wrong, missy. I no wish dat man." "Then Dr. Etwald--that horrid, gloomy creature!" "Him great man!" said Dido, solemnly. "Him berry--berry great!" "I don't think so," retorted Isabella, rising. "Of course, I know that he is clever, but as to being great, he isn't known beyond this place." She walked to the end of the veranda, and stood for a moment in the glare of the sunshine. Suddenly an idea seemed to strike her, and she turned toward the negress.