obscure corner of the house, and slip away before anybody capable of
making a club joke had discovered his presence. The hidden country was
lost now, and with it the perilous thrill of enchantment.

He rang the bell, and the door was opened by an old coloured butler who
had been one of the family servants of the Culpepers. How on earth,
Stephen wondered, could the Governor tolerate the venerable Abijah, the
chosen companion of Culpeper children for two generations? While he
wondered he recalled something his mother had said a few weeks ago about
Abijah's having been lured away by the offer of absurd wages. "You
needn't worry," she had added shrewdly, "he will return as soon as he
gets tired of working."

"I hurt my ankle, Abijah," said the girl.

"You ain't, is you, Miss Patty?" replied Abijah, in an indulgent tone
which conveyed to Stephen's delicate ears every shade of difference
between the Vetchs' and the Culpepers' social standing.

"How are you, Abijah?" remarked the young man with the air of lordly
pleasantry he used to all servants who were not white. Beyond the fine
old hall he saw the formal drawing-room and the modern octagonal
dining-room at the back of the house.

"Howdy, Marse Stephen," responded the negro, "I seed yo' ma yestiddy en
she sutney wuz lookin well an' peart."

He opened the door of the library, and while Stephen entered the room
with the girl's hand on his arm, a man rose from a chair by the fire and
came forward.