Their way took them through pleasant streets shaded by spice trees and
an occasional oak. From behind high walls came the fragrance of orange
blossoms, ripening pomegranates and grapes. Very soon they had crossed
the Ashley River, and now the road ran between broad fields of cotton
where negroes were already at work gathering the white fluffy crop which
would be packed in bags and bales and shipped to many far distant ports.

The three little friends talked gaily of the pleasant visit which had
just begun. Sylvia was hoping that Flora would again speak of the
promised ride on one of the white ponies, but not until Uncle Chris
guided the swift horses into the driveway, shaded by fine live-oaks,
which led to the big house, was her wish gratified.

"We'll have a ride this afternoon, girls, if you are not too tired," she
said.

Grace and Sylvia promptly declared that they were not at all tired, and
that a ride was just what they would like best.

The plantation's "big house," as the negroes called the owner's home,
was the largest house Sylvia had ever entered. Its high piazza with the
tall pillars was covered by a tangle of jessamine vines and climbing
roses. The front hall led straight through the house to another piazza,
which looked out over beautiful gardens and a tiny lake. Behind a thick
hedge of privet were the cabins of the house servants. The negroes who
did the work on the plantation, caring for the horses and cows, and
working in the cotton fields, lived at some distance from the "big"
house.

Mrs. Hayes came out on the piazza to welcome the party. She had come