screwed his eyes up tight; and the colonel said grace with an increased
fervor in his voice, no doubt remembering in his heart the blessing
of the last arrival.

Throughout the entire repast the colonel was in his gayest mood,
brimming over with anecdotes and personal reminiscences and full of
his rose-colored plans for the future.

Many things had combined to produce this happy frame of mind. There
was first the Scheme, which had languished for weeks owing to the
vise-like condition of the money market,--another of Fitz's mendacious
excuses,--and which had now been suddenly galvanized into temporary
life by an inquiry made by certain bankers who were seeking an outlet
for English capital, and who had expressed a desire to investigate the
"Garden Spot of Virginia." Only an "inquiry," but to the colonel the
papers were already signed. Then there was the arrival of his
distinguished guest, whom he loved devotedly and with a certain
old-school gallantry and tenderness as picturesque as it was
interesting. Last of all there was that important episode of the bills.
For Miss Nancy, the night she arrived, had collected all the household
accounts, including the highly esteemed pass-book,--they were all of
the one kind, unpaid,--and had dispatched Chad early in the morning
to the several creditors with his pocket full of crisp bank-notes.

Chad had returned from this liquidating tour, and the full meaning of
that trusty agent's mission had dawned upon the colonel. He buttoned
his coat tightly over his chest, straightened himself up, sought out
his aunt, and said, with some dignity and a slightly injured air:--

"Nancy, yo' interfe'ence in my household affairs this mornin' was vehy