Attracted by the sound of wheels, the four dogs now came rushing down the road, barking so furiously that Queenie turned pale with fright, and clung closer to Axie. But when the noisy pack saw Boston, whom they knew, their barking changed into whines of recognition, which brought Uncle Sim and Aunt Judy round the corner of the house, where the latter stopped, and with her hands on her fat hips eyed the strangers curiously,
“Somebody gwine to visit Miss Strong, most likely; but why did Boston fetch ’em here?” she thought.
But when Queenie alighted, and going up to her told her that she was Miss Hetherton, granddaughter of Miss Lucy Marshall, who used to live at Magnolia Park, and that she had come to stay, her consternation knew no bounds, and while dropping a courtesy to Queenie, and saying to her, “An’ sho’ you’re welcome, miss,” she was thinking to herself, “For de dea’ Lord’s sake, whatever ’ll I do wid sich quality as dis, and whar ’ll I put her? There ain’t a room in de whole house fit for a nigger or a cracker to sleep in. An’ she’s de real stuff dat ladies is made of. Can’t cheat dis chile.”
“Honey,” she said at last to Queenie, who was looking ruefully around her. “I’s no whar to ax you to sit down jes dis minute but in my cabin, whar I done scoured the flo’ dis blessed day. If I had known you’re comin’ I’d done somethin’.”
Queenie explained that a letter had been sent to some one announcing her expected visit, and added, with a little shiver, “Let me go to your cabin. I am very tired and chilly.”
So Aunt Judy led the way to her quarters, which were as neat and clean as soap and water and her strong hands could make them. A pine knot was blazing on the hearth, diffusing a delightful degree of light and warmth through the room, and Queenie felt better and less desolate than when standing outside in the chill twilight, which had succeeded the warm spring day. Before entering the cabin, Axie, accompanied by Sim and Judy, made the tour of the house, deciding at once that to pass the night in that damp, cheerless place, was utterly impossible. Queenie might have gone to town and staid at a hotel until something like decency and cleanliness was restored to a few of the rooms, but Boston had left, and there was no alternative but to sleep in Judy’s cabin. This, however, Queenie did not mind. Reared as she had been in France, she had none of the American prejudice against the African race, and ate her hot corncake which Aunt Judy baked for her, and drank her coffee from Judy’s cups, with almost as keen a relish, as she had ever dined at the Meurice. Once, indeed, as she remembered Chateau des Fleurs, and Hetherton Place, and then glanced at her humble surrounding there came a great lump in her throat, and her hands involuntarily struck the air as if to thrust something from her. But she meant to be very brave, and when at last she was lifted by Aunt Judy into the clean, comfortable bed, which had been made for her upon the low kitchen table, she fell asleep almost immediately, and knew nothing more until the morning sun was shining in at the open door, and she heard Axie and Judy outside consulting together about the propriety of waking her.
Greatly refreshed with her night’s rest Queenie felt better and decided that the place was not so bad, after all; but a close inspection of the premises after breakfast convinced her that, for the present at least, she must seek quarters elsewhere. Rooms there were in abundance, and furniture, but everything had gone to decay; everything was moldy and worm-eaten, and smelled of rats, and must and foul air. And still, as Axie said, there were great capabilities in the place, and with a little time and money, and a great deal of hard work, a portion of the house could be made not only habitable, but very comfortable and attractive. Meantime, Queenie must go away, for it was impossible for her to stay there while the renovating process was going on. But where to go was a question which troubled Queenie not a little, until Aunt Judy suggested an idea to her by saying, “Thar’s Jacksonville on de river. Why not go thar a spell? Heaps of de gentry from de Noff is thar, and a sight of mighty fine dresses at dem grand hotels. Jacksonville is a mighty big city—bigger dan New York, I reckon.”
Queenie had heard of Jacksonville, and she at once seized upon Judy’s suggestion as something practicable. She would go to that winter Saratoga of the South and see what it was like. Possibly she might be amused with what she saw, and so the pain at her heart be lessened a little. She would go that very day, she said, for she was full of a burning restlessness and desire for change. But Judy, who knew something of the running of the trains, told her it was then too late; she must wait until the next day, and pass another night upon the kitchen table. From this, however Queenie was saved, for, while they were speaking, they caught the sound of wheels, and, shading her eyes with her hands, Aunt Judy saw entering the park a carriage with a lady in it. “Dar’s Miss Strong from de Homestead,” she exclaimed. “She’s de ole Govenor’s darter and de fustest lady in dese parts. Got a head full of brains, and writes for all de papers in de land. She be comen here, sho’-nuf.” And Judy was right, for Boston had stopped at the Homestead the previous night, and had told of the young lady—Miss Hetherton—whom he had brought to Magnolia Park. Mrs. Strong remembered well the tall, handsome boy, Frederick Hetherton, who, when she was a child, had passed a winter at the Park, which was then one of the finest places in the State. She remembered, too, the stately lady, his mother, who had more than once dined at the Homestead, and she had no doubt that the young girl of whom Boston told her, was the granddaughter of that lady, and daughter of the boy Frederick. But why had she come to Magnolia Park so late in the season, and how was she to exist, even for a day, in that dilapidated, forsaken spot?
“I will go to see her at once and bring her home with me,” was Mrs. Strong’s first thought, upon which she acted immediately.
Introducing herself to Queenie, who advanced to meet her as she descended from her carriage, she said: