“Associations,” said Jim, “may be historical or prophetic. In the former case, we have to take them on trust; but as to those of the future, we are sure of them.”
“Yahs,” said Cecil, using the locution which he always adopted when something subtle was said to him, “I dare say! I dare say!”
“Well, then,” Jim went on, “I have this matter of the atmosphere or associations under my own control.”
“Just so,” said Cecil. “Clever conceit, Miss Trescott, isn’t it, now?”
But Miss Trescott had apparently heard nothing of Jim’s speech, and begged pardon; and wouldn’t they go and show her the bronzes in the library?
“This mansion, General,” said the Captain, “takes one back, suh, to the halcyon days of American history. I refeh, suh, to those times when the plantahs of the black prairie belt of Alabama lived like princes, in the heart of an enchanted empire!”
“A very interesting period, Captain,” said the General. “It is a pity that the industrial basis was one which could not endure!”
“In the midst of fo’ests, suh,” went on the Captain, “we had ouah mansions, not inferio’ to this—each a little kingdom with its complete wo’ld of amusements, its cote, and its happy populace, goin’ singin’ to the wo’k which supported the estate!”
“Yes,” said the General, “I thought, when we were striking down that state of things, that we were doing a great thing for that populace. But I now see that I was only helping the black into a new slavery, the fruits of which we see here, around us, to-night.”
“I hahdly get youah meaning, suh—”