And as she faced the domineering woman in her trappings of fashion all
the humble blood in the negro's veins, which had come down to her from
the forewomen who had cradled on their black breasts the mothers of such
as Caroline Darrah, was turned into the jungle passion for defense of
this slight white thing that was the child of her heart if not of her
body. The danger of it made Mrs. Lawrence fairly quail, and, white with
fright, she gathered her rich furs about her and fled just as Caroline
Darrah's returning footsteps were heard in the hall.

"Why, where did Mrs. Lawrence go, Tempie?" she demanded in astonishment.
Tempie had just the moment in which to rally herself but she had
accomplished the feat, though her eyes still rolled ominously.

"She 'membered something what she forgot and had ter hurry. She lef'
scuses fer you," and Tempie busied herself with the cups and tray.

"She was beginning to say something queer to me, Tempie, when you came
in. It was about Mr. Sevier and I didn't understand. I almost felt that
she was being disagreeable to me and it frightened me--about him. I--"

"Law, I spects you is mistook, chile, an' if it war anything she jest
wants him herself and was a-laying out ter tell you some enflirtment she
had been a-trying ter have with him. Don't pay no 'tention to it." By
this time she had regained her composure and was able to reassure
Caroline with her usual positiveness to which she added an amount of
worldly tact in substituting a highly disturbing thought in place of the
dangerous one.

"Do you really think she can be in love with--with him, Tempie?" demanded