"No," answered Annis, with a kind of wistful regret, raising her eyes shyly.
"We have another lot out at the Pineries. It's queer, but we don't call them uncles and aunts, except Aunt Jane, because she is married and the oldest. And we always dispute—it's very funny and queer. Grandfather is a Federal—well, a sort of Tory, too—and father's a Republican. People who live in a republic ought to be Republicans. That's what we fought for."
Annis stared. "Out home—there," indicating the West with her head, "they fought the Indians."
"Well—it is all about the same thing, only there are not many Indians around here. And we don't fight each other."
"I don't know about that!" and the young man who was toying with the ears of an English hound laughed.
Then had come the puzzling question, and Annis Bouvier wondered what side she must take and was sadly mystified.
CHAPTER II.
THE PINERIES.
Annis ran and threw her arms around her mother's neck and kissed her fervently.
"Are you glad to come here and do you like them all?" she asked when she found her breath. "And it is so queer, with all the black people and the great house and—and everything!"
"It is a little strange. You will like it better by and by," glancing tenderly down in her child's eyes.