properly darkened against the sunny morning, and that the water was
fresh in the bowls of flowers. She leaned for a moment against her harp,
one hand upon its strings, her forehead resting upon her bare arm; then
she turned from the room and entered the library, where she found her
uncles waiting for her, Uncle Dick upon the hearth rug and Uncle Edward
at the table.

"Jacqueline," began the first, then, "Edward, I never could talk to a
woman! Ask her what all this damned nonsense means!"

"Your uncle doesn't mean that it is all damned nonsense, Jacqueline,"
said Uncle Edward, with gentleness. "Not perhaps from your point of
view, my dear. But both he and I are greatly grieved and disappointed--"

"It was all arranged ages ago!" broke in the elder brother. "Fauquier
Cary and your dear father, my brother Henry, settled it when you were
born and Fauquier's son was a lad at Maury's school! When Henry died,
and Fauquier Cary died, my brother Edward here and I said to each other
that we would see the matter out! So we will, by God!"

"Gently, Dick! Jacqueline, child, you know how dear you are to us, and
how the future and the happiness of you and of Unity and of Deb is our
jealous care--"

"Fauquier Cary was as noble a man as ever breathed," cried the other,
"and his son's his image! There's no better blood in Virginia--and the
land beside--"

"It does not matter about the land, Jacqueline," said Uncle Edward,
"though God forbid that I should depreciate good land--"