But you sha'n't hit Dan."

"He is not one of the regular house hands," was the reply; "and I
shall appeal to Mrs. Wingfield as to whether I am to be interfered
with in the discharge of my duties."

"You may appeal to my mother if you like, but I don't think that
you will get much by it. I tell you you are a deal too fond of that
whip, Pearson. It never was heard of on the estate during my
father's time, and it sha'n't be again when it comes to be mine, I
can tell you. Come along, Dan; I want you at the stables."

So saying, Vincent Wingfield turned on his heel, and followed by
Dan, a negro lad of some eighteen years old, he walked off toward
the house, leaving Jonas Pearson, the overseer of the Orangery
estate, looking after him with an evil expression of face.

Vincent Wingfield was the son of an English officer, who, making
a tour in the States, had fallen in love with and won the hand of
Winifred Cornish, a rich Virginian heiress, and one of the belles of
Richmond. After the marriage he had taken her home to visit his
family in England; but she had not been there many weeks before
the news arrived of the sudden death of her father. A month later
she and her husband returned to Virginia, as her presence was
required there in reference to business matters connected with the
estate, of which she was now the mistress.

The Orangery, so called from a large conservatory built by Mrs.
Wingfield's grandfather, was the family seat, and the broad lands
around it were tilled by upward of two hundred slaves. There were