be cramped and paralyzed in an armor of prejudice and sectionalisms.
Plain-speaking was the only course, and Mary, if a little complacent
perhaps in her frankness, was sincere in her purpose.

"I think, Miss Smith, you are making a very grave mistake. I regard
Zora as a very undesirable person from every point of view. I look upon
Mr. Cresswell's visit today as almost providential. He came offering an
olive branch from the white aristocracy to this work; to bespeak his
appreciation and safeguard the future. Moreover," and Miss Taylor's
voice gathered firmness despite Miss Smith's inscrutable eye, "moreover,
I have reason to know that the disposition--indeed, the plan--in certain
quarters to help this work materially depends very largely on your
willingness to meet the advances of the Southern whites half way."

She paused for a reply or a question. Receiving neither, she walked with
dignity up the stairs. From her window she could see Cresswell's
straight shoulders, as he rode toward town, and beyond him a black speck
in the road. But she could not see the smile on Mr. Cresswell's lips,
nor did she hear him remark twice, with seeming irrelevance, "The
devil!"

The rider, being closer to it, recognized in Mary Taylor's "black speck"
Bles Alwyn walking toward him rapidly with axe and hoe on shoulder,
whistling merrily. They saw each other almost at the same moment and
whistle and smile faded. Mr. Cresswell knew the Negro by sight and
disliked him. He belonged in his mind to that younger class of
half-educated blacks who were impudent and disrespectful toward their
superiors, not even touching his hat when he met a white man. Moreover,
he was sure that it was Miss Taylor with whom this boy had been talking
so long and familiarly in the cotton-field last Spring--an offence