"There you go, Nancy, 'busin' me like a dog, and here I've been
a-trampin' the streets for a' hour lookin' for flowers for you! You
are breakin' my heart, Miss Caarter, with yo' coldness and contempt.
Another word and you shall not have a single bud." And the colonel
gayly tucked a rose under her chin with a loving stroke of his hand,
and threw the others in a heap on her lap.
"Breakfast sarved, mistress," said Chad in a low voice.
The colonel gave his arm to his aunt with the air of a courtier; Fitz
and I disposed ourselves on each side; Chad, with reverential mien,
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.
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