“Oh, the poor old dear!”
She looked at the gaming table with its indefatigable players and then turned to Kate and Adonis who approached at that moment. “How did you come out, Adonis?”
“Out,” he said, curtly.
“Lucky in love, unlucky at”––began Kate.
“Then you must be very unlucky in love,” he retorted, “for you were a good winner at cards.”
“Oh, there are exceptions to that rule,” said Kate lazily, with a yawn. “I’m lucky at both––in New Orleans!”
“I have perceived it,” retorted Adonis, bitterly.
“Don’t quarrel,” Susan implored. Regarding the table once more, she sighed: “I’m so sorry I came!”
But her feet fairly danced as she flew towards the St. Charles. She entered, airy as a saucy craft, with “all sails in full chase, ribbons and gauzes streaming at the top,” and, with a frou-frou of skirts, burst into Constance’s room, brimful of news and importance. She remained there for some time, and when she left, it was noteworthy her spirits were still high. In crossing the hall, her red stockings became a fitting color accompaniment to her sprightly step, as she 322 moved over the heavy carpet, skirts raised coquettishly, humming with the gaiety of a young girl who has just left boarding school.
“A blooming, innocent creature!” growled an up-the-river planter, surveying her from one of the landings. “Lord love me, if she were only a quadroon, I’d buy her!”