Supper at Mistress Cory Ann's was not much of an affair, but as she boarded two or three hired men, plenty of dishes there always were to be washed, and nearly bedtime it would be before Sally could get cleared up.
But, now, oh, joy! as soon as that meal was over, Sally was to be free, free! Up she rushed to her cubby of a room in the attic, caught up a piece of looking-glass she had found one lucky day up by the great house, and peering at her own queer little image in the bit of mirror, she piped, in tones of great glee:
"Did you hear that, Sally Dukeen? Did'st hear that, little Mistress Sally!"
CHAPTER II.
THE GREAT HOUSE
Of all things lovely and full of fascination in Sally's little narrow world, everything in and about Ingleside stood far and away the highest in her eyes.
It was her delight, her admiration, her dream by day and her dream by night. Ingleside! With its wide-spreading mansion, its far-reaching plantation that was, after all, but a short run for an agile child from Slipside Row.
Had Sally known the meaning of such a word as "romance," which is a sweet and wonderful story, or happening, or dream, she would have known that the chief bewitchment of her life sprang from the dear romance that to her fancy was all about fair Ingleside.
Because, from the time that she had been brought to Slipside Row, when a bright little child of eight years, with a keen imagination and great love for all that was tasteful and beautiful, it had become the greatest charm she had ever known to race, whenever she could, through Lover's Lane and Shady Path, to some part of Ingleside.
Now, when it is told that the great house, the immense garden, the fields, stables, cabins, store-sheds, and far-reaching plantation of Ingleside formed the mansion and estate of one Colonial "place," you will understand that it was the home of a Southern planter.