"Spotted hemlock! Child, 'tis rank poison! I'd a horse die of it once in—"
He broke off suddenly and turned about as Madam Trevor, with her younger daughter, Lucy, rustled into the room. The elder lady looked rather sharply from her nephew to her young cousin as she came in; but she could read neither face. Sir Charles bowed with great respect, and Deborah gave her usual demure courtesy for the morning. Lucy was a slight, pretty little creature, with thin, silky dark hair, lively blue eyes, and a waist as trim as Deborah's own. She greeted the two cousins with equal grace, but seemed to prefer Deborah's company, drawing her a little on one side to show a spindle-prick upon her finger. Their whispered conversation was interrupted by the entrance of the master of the house, Madam Trevor's only son, Vincent. He was a well-built, muscular fellow, a trifle short for his breadth of shoulder, with the family's blue eyes, and hair so black that the powder but badly concealed its hue. He greeted his mother with profound respect, lightly kissed his little sister's cheek, and nodded to Deborah in a preoccupied fashion. Then, joining Charles at the buffet, he proceeded to mix their first potation of the day, two Venice glasses full of Jamaica rum, sugar, and water. Both gentlemen drank to the health of Madam Trevor, who acknowledged the usual courtesy with a slight nod, and then, seating herself at the head of the table, drew towards her the platter of strawberries.
"We are not to wait for Virginia?" asked Vincent, taking his place.
Madam was about to reply when, from the little passageway beyond the library, came the crisp rustle of stiff petticoats, and Virginia Trevor, the belle of Annapolis, tall, fresh of complexion, unrouged, of slender figure, and delicate patrician features, came smilingly into the room. The gentlemen hastened to rise, and Sir Charles lifted back her chair.
"Thank you. Your pardon, madam, for being late. Amanda was very slow."
"After your wakefulness of last night, I had not imagined that you would attempt to rise this morning," answered her mother.
Virginia glanced at Lucy, and a half smile passed between them. It was over before Madam Trevor perceived it.
"Debby was the sick one yesterday," observed Lucy, gently. "But you seem to be quite recovered to-day," she finished, turning to her cousin, just as Adam entered from the kitchen, bearing with him a platter of fried chickens, crisply browned and smoking, while Lilith followed with hoe-cake and bacon.
"Deborah's illness appears to be a matter of her own choice," remarked Madam Trevor, with displeasure in her tone. "She has been warned of the dangers of her strange and useless experiments. If she chooses to go her way against all advice, she must accept the consequences of such folly."
Deborah was silent, and appeared unconcerned at the reproof. Virginia, however, rather unwisely, spoke in her favor. "Indeed, Debby's experiments would seem to me most useful, mother. You yourself say that no one about Annapolis can make such rose and lavender water, or distil such cordials and strong waters as she. The still-room, too, is a different place since she was given charge over it."