Camilla, although [adored?] and petted by every one, and knowing no law
but her own will, was still a very lovely child. Her father, wrapped in
his literary pursuits, had left the entire control of his plantation to
overseers, in whom he trusted almost implicitly. And many a tale of
wrong and sorrow came to the ear of Camilla; for these simple-minded
people had learned to love her, and to trust in her as an angel of
mercy. Often would she interfere in their behalf, and tell the story of
their wrongs to her father. And at her instance, more than one overseer
had been turned away; which, coming to the ears of others, made them
cautious how they offended the little lady, for young as she was they
soon learned that she had great influence with her ease-loving father,
who would comply with almost any fancy or request rather than see her
unhappy or fretting.

And Camilla, knowing her power, insisted that Agnes' child should be
raised as a white child, and the secret of his birth effectually
concealed. At first, Mr. Le Croix thought it was a passing whim that she
would soon forget; that the child would amuse and interest her for
awhile; and then she would tire of him as she had of other things; such
as her birds, her squirrel, and even her Shetland pony. But when he
found that instead of her intention being a passing whim it was a
settled purpose, he made up his mind to accede to her wishes.

His plan was to take the child North, to have him educated, and then
adopt him as his son. And in fact the plan rather suited him; for then
he could care for him as a son, without acknowledging the relationship.
And being a member of two nations having a Latin basis, he did not feel
the same pride of race and contempt and repulsion for weaker races which
characterizes the proud and imperious Anglo-Saxon.