Volume 2.
CHAPTER VIII. BELLEGARDE
Miss Virginia Carvel came down the steps in her riding-habit. And Ned, who had been waiting in the street with the horses, obsequiously held his hand while his young mistress leaped into Vixen's saddle. Leaving the darkey to follow upon black Calhoun, she cantered off up the street, greatly to the admiration of the neighbor. They threw open their windows to wave at her, but Virginia pressed her lips and stared straight ahead. She was going out to see the Russell girls at their father's country place on Bellefontaine Road, especially to proclaim her detestation for a certain young Yankee upstart. She had unbosomed herself to Anne Brinsmade and timid Eugenie Renault the day before.
It was Indian summer, the gold and purple season of the year. Frost had come and gone. Wasps were buzzing confusedly about the eaves again, marvelling at the balmy air, and the two Misses Russell, Puss and Emily, were seated within the wide doorway at needlework when Virginia dismounted at the horseblock.
“Oh, Jinny, I'm so glad to see you,” said Miss Russell. “Here's Elise Saint Simon from New Orleans. You must stay all day and to-night.”
“I can't, Puss,” said Virginia, submitting impatiently to Miss Russell's warm embrace. She was disappointed at finding the stranger. “I only came—to say that I am going to have a birthday party in a few weeks. You must be sure to come, and bring your guest.”
Virginia took her bridle from Ned, and Miss Russell's hospitable face fell.
“You're not going?” she said.
“To Bellegarde for dinner,” answered Virginia.