"She has an adopted daughter, a beautiful girl who has brightened her up wonderfully. I never saw an own daughter more idolized."
Mrs. Gaylord my readers have met before; will they also recognize the adopted daughter? She is almost a young lady now, having been with her new friends nearly two years, and, during the time, received every opportunity for improvement, not one of which had been lost. She is taller than when we last met her, her manners winning and graceful, while her eyes had not forgotten their mysterious wonderings or her heart its ambitious longings. At this home in the far south where she had been nearly a week there was much upon which to feed her sensibilities and awaken her imaginings.
"I go in for making money off from my plantation," remarked the host in reply to a suggestion from one of the party as they seated themselves at the table when all were at last gathered. "I long ago learned who is king over this broad land, and like well to do my share in keeping the crown on his head." A hearty laugh followed when he continued: "And if this war, which is so much talked of just now, should really become a fact, I reckon some others will feel his power."
"You must be chary of your words, sir, for we have a northerner in our party," interposed Mrs. Belmont, her keen eyes fixed on the face of Anna Pierson, which crimsoned beneath her gaze.
"Miss Pierson's principles, whatever they are, must be shielded from irony or ridicule while in our party," said George St. Clair, with some warmth, although in a low tone of voice, intended for Mrs. Belmont's ears only.
The lady was awed and silenced. She would not for the world offend the young man, for in him too many of her fondest hopes were still centered. She had not for a moment given up the idea that Lillian would, after a little sensible consideration, accede to her wishes and recall her rejected lover, whom she was sure only waited permission to return.
The conversation soon became sprightly and animated, but the ladies remained silent, while the face of one, at least, expressed more than words could utter.
A movement to leave the table by George St. Clair put an end to it all, and it was not resumed while the little party remained together.
Upon entering the parlor Mrs. Belmont found herself tete a tete with the young lady from Virginia. The company had gathered themselves into little groups or pairs, and each seemed intent upon some individual topic separate from the others, and nothing was left for the stately lady to do but to commence conversation with her companion or remain moodily silent, which she felt greatly inclined to do. However, her position required action, and she inquired:
"How long have you been in Virginia? I understand that you are an adopted daughter of Mrs. Gaylord."