JASPER FAIRFAX
 
 OF A FORMER BOOK BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 THE LITERARY WORLD, BOSTON, SAID : 
 
 " Our reading of it has discovered in it more of the 
 elements of that long expected product, the great American 
 novel, than we have found in any recent work of fiction. 
 The subject is thoroughly, intensely American ; the book is 
 right out of the soil ; it is like a block of New England 
 granite, or one of the big trees of California ; it has large 
 stature, reserve force, abundant play of power ; its intellect- 
 ual endowment is marked ; it has character, incident, 
 sentiment, and passion ; it is virile, natural, life-like, 
 dramatic, absorbing. 
 
 Nothing is exaggerated. The tale has the calm, plain, 
 terrible intensity of truth. It is told with the self-possession 
 of an eye witness. To those who have nerve for the tragic, 
 who can bear to stand and see sin work itself out into the 
 wages of death, we commend it as one of the most original, 
 able, and remarkable of recent novels."
 
 JASPER FAIRFAX 
 
 BY 
 
 MARGARET HOLMES 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 "Manitou," "The Price of the Ring" 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 R. F. FENNO & COMPANY 
 9 AND ii EAST 1 6-TH STREET
 
 Copyright, 1897 
 
 BY 
 R. F. FBNNO & COMPANY 
 
 Jasper Fairfax
 
 JASPER FAIRFAX. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Tell me, Doctor, how long can I live? " 
 
 " Many years I hope; " but Doctor Dome did not 
 meet the eyes of his patient as he spoke. He kept his 
 finger on her wrist, and dampened the bandage about 
 her head with a sponge. 
 
 " Why should you hope, or say you hope when you 
 know my hours, possibly my moments are but few? " 
 
 The injured woman panted for breath, but, with an 
 effort that started the crimson stain through the band- 
 age about her temples and deepened the pallor 
 around her mouth she continued: 
 
 " I know the truth. I know I am dying. I must 
 tell something to Jasper. I must send for Cogswell. 
 Aunt Sue," to the nurse who had assisted the phy- 
 sician, "go send one of the boys for Cogswell. Go at 
 once ; " as the woman hesitated, glancing at Doctor 
 Dome. 
 
 The physican nodded, and the nurse left the room. 
 There was silence then, broken by sounds of sobbing 
 
 [5]
 
 6 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 and the voice of some one repeating the words: " We 
 humbly commend the soul of this, thy servant, our 
 dear brother, into thy hands, as into the hands of a 
 faithful Creator, and most merciful Saviour; most 
 humbly beseeching thee, that it may be precious in 
 thy sight." 
 
 The sounds came from an adjoining room. The 
 connecting door was slightly ajar. The physician 
 tried to close it, but found a defective latch. When 
 he came back to the bedside his patient said: 
 
 " So my husband is dying too. Since we both must 
 go I'm glad that he goes first." 
 
 Doctor Dome continued his ministrations in 
 silence. The voice finished the prayer " through the 
 merits of Jesus Christ, thine only Son our Lord, 
 Amen." The sobbing voice cried " Oh Papa!" and 
 a man, as if he choked with tears said : " Come away 
 darling." Then the solemn voice heard in the prayer 
 was speaking again, low and hurriedly. 
 
 Aunt Sue came in wiping her eyes. 
 
 " Don't cry, Auntie," the dying woman whispered. 
 
 " Don't worry me with tears. I know you love me. 
 I need all my strength to see to it that justice shall be 
 done after I'm gone." 
 
 The door into the room where had been heard the 
 sounds of prayer and weeping was slowly opened, 
 and the woman's face lightened and darkened in the 
 same instant. 
 
 " Tell Jasper to come with Doctor Ballantyne," she 
 whispered. 
 
 "They's comin' honey." 
 
 " But I don't want Salome. Keep her away. Leave 
 her with her father."
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 7 
 
 Three persons entered the room. Doctor 
 Ballantyne, tall, pale, serious, with clergyman written 
 unmistakably in the cast of his countenance as well 
 as the cut of his coat. He was followed by a man, 
 young, handsome and tall as himself who supported 
 a slender, weeping girl on his arm. 
 
 "Jasper Jasper," the woman exclaimed eagerly, 
 " send Salome away." 
 
 " Oh Aunt Agnes," the young man commenced, as 
 he led the girl towards the bed. 
 
 " Send her away, I tell you !" and she made an 
 effort to rise. 
 
 "There, there honey," and Aunt Sue held her 
 mistress in her arms while tears rained down her 
 shining black face. 
 
 " Here Ceely, take care of Miss Salome," Jasper 
 said to a young black woman who stood near the 
 door. " Her mother doesn't want her to see how 
 she's suffering." 
 
 " Now Doctor," began the dying woman, " you 
 must keep me alive until I set right for Jasper a 
 wrong that I have submitted" to for twenty years. 
 But, let me say now, if my strength fails, all I wish to 
 tell you is written by my own hand, there in that little 
 safe. Cogswell has a copy of it. He'll be here soon, 
 Auntie? " 
 
 " Yes honey, Ben done gone fo' him." 
 
 " Then, my dear Mrs. Redfield, turn your thoughts 
 to God. Why waste your strength on earthly 
 matters? " from Doctor Ballantyne. 
 
 " No, no, wait till I tell you. I must be sure, I 
 must be sure. Did you say Ralph was dead? " 
 
 " Yes, he is at rest."
 
 8 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " Ah! " and Mrs. Redfield closed her eyes. " Such 
 an ending! and such a life as we have passed to- 
 gether! " 
 
 " But now that it is past," said the clergyman. 
 
 " No, no," she interrupted. " Wait. No prayers 
 for me now." 
 
 She lay quiet for a moment. Aunt Sue fanned her 
 slowly, the three men sat in silence. Suddenly the 
 dark heavy eyes opened. 
 
 "Jasper, you'll be unworthy of your name if you 
 break your heart, or in the least mar your prospects 
 or your purposes in life for the sake of Salome." 
 
 " Dear Aunt Agnes, " 
 
 " No, listen to me. I'm not raving. Ask Doctor 
 Dome if I'm not in condition to speak sanely. The 
 written explanation that you'll not read until I'm 
 dead, will be witness to all I say. You must not 
 marry Salome." 
 
 "Aunt Agnes no if you forbid it. There must be 
 some great and good reason," and Jasper Fairfax 
 leaned forward and clasped in his own the long, 
 slender, chilly hand of Mrs. Redfield. 
 
 " I do forbid it, for the reason that she is not my 
 daughter." 
 
 "Aunt Agnes ! " and Jasper leaned nearer, while 
 the physician and clergyman glanced at each other 
 pityingly as if understanding that this was the de- 
 lirium of failing senses that preceded the darkness of 
 death. 
 
 Aunt Sue nodded her turbaned head while the 
 great tears flooded her face. " I knowed it, I 
 knowed it," she whispered. 
 
 "No, Salome is not my child. You know how
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 9 
 
 Ralph and I came home after an absence of three 
 years in Europe. At least you've been told. All the 
 people about us know. We brought the little child, 
 Salome with us and said she was our daughter. But 
 we did not bring home Jocasta, my quadroon maid 
 who had gone away with us. You, Doctor Dome, 
 and you Doctor Ballantyne know how beautiful she 
 was?" 
 
 The two men assented silently with downcast eyes. 
 Jasper glanced hurriedly from Mrs. Redfield to them 
 and back again. There was wonder, horror, incre- 
 dulity in his face, but evidently his two old friends 
 believed her. 
 
 " I need not say a word about Salome's father. 
 You know how much she resembles him, excepting 
 her eyes. They are like Jocasta's. I never saw that 
 wonderful coppery tinted hair, save Salome's and 
 her father's. She was born in a hamlet nestled far 
 away in a nook of the Calabrian mountains. Tourists 
 never go there. We studied maps and guide-books 
 and wandered about for weeks before finding this 
 spot." 
 
 " Aunt Agnes, was this child palmed off as yours 
 with your consent? How could it have been done 
 without? " Jasper asked. 
 
 "I did consent. Listen. Ah, there's Cogswell! 
 the one person in the world who knows my real at- 
 titude in the matter." 
 
 The lawyer came in briskly but cautiously. He 
 had been told of the runaway team that had dashed 
 the carriage to pieces. He knew the driver had been 
 killed instantly. He knew that in the next room, the 
 communicating door now propped shut with a has-
 
 io Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 sock, the undertaker's men were busy with the 
 remains of Ralph Redfield. He had come prepared 
 for a last service to Agnes Fairfax Redfield. For 
 several years he had known that if he out-lived this 
 life-long friend, he would be called upon for this ser- 
 vice. He only, of all this fortunate woman's friends 
 knew of the heart-ache she continually endured. 
 
 He seated himself after pressing her cold fingers. 
 He laid a leathern case across his knees. Doctor 
 Dome moistened Mrs. Redfield's lips, saying: 
 "Would you not better rest now and let Mr. Cogs- 
 well read your statement? " 
 
 " No, no, I must be sure, sure. Yes, Jasper, I 
 consented by word to receive the child as heir of my 
 body; to marry her, at a suitable age, to you, my 
 brother's son, if I might be forever rid of her mother, 
 Jocasta. You know why I paid this price. It was 
 on our bridal journey that we found Jocasta and 
 Victor, brother and sister, in New Orleans. Since 
 then, till now, Ralph Redfield has divided his love 
 between Jocasta and me. This is why I speak. This 
 is why I wrote out this shameful story, and had Mr. 
 Cogswell copy it. My husband did not keep faith 
 with me six months. I willingly provided for Jocasta. 
 I left her in a pleasant little villa of her own. She 
 and her other children have wanted for nothing. 
 Ralph promised me he would never see her again 
 when we left her and carried baby Salome with us. 
 But, he has seen her many times. He has been in 
 continual communication with her. When we've 
 been traveling about, Jocasta was always in the same 
 town with us. I knew this though her name was 
 never mentioned between us. I could not quarrel
 
 Jasper Fairfax. II 
 
 with him, but, I determined to outwit him at last. 
 Long ago, I resolved to put off the evil news as late 
 as possible, but I felt that I could not allow my 
 nephew to marry her. Now, if my husband was alive 
 and well, and I as I am, this should be told. Death 
 has ended the long period of deception." 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Redfield," said the clergyman, 
 " this must have been a great cross for you." 
 
 "Ah, God alone knows how heavy my cross has 
 been. But, I have lived up to my part of the covenant 
 that related to the care and education of Jocasta's 
 child. I taught her to call me mother when I could 
 have screamed and torn my flesh at each repetition of 
 the word that hid the shame of my husband and 
 deepened the lie that I was living. I have kept her 
 away at school as long as possible. In this I con- 
 tinually opposed the wishes of her father. He would 
 have had her always at home. But her school days 
 are over. Our preparations were making for in- 
 troducing her into society. Ah me! how sweet it is 
 to die instead ! " 
 
 Her eyes closed wearily, there was a slight quiver- 
 ing of the body. Jasper felt the hand he held relax 
 from its light clasp. The soul of Agnes Redfield had 
 gone to its own place
 
 12 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The summer light was tempered pleasantly by 
 drawn blinds, delicate shades and handsome lace 
 hangings. There was nothing about the house now 
 to remind the inmates of the tragedy that had for its 
 finish the triple funeral but the somber garments of 
 kindred and servants and the unusual quiet that per- 
 vaded the Big House, the gardens, the quarters, and 
 the fields where no work had been done for three 
 days. In the fresh morning the three dead, master, 
 mistress and black Tom had been carried to the 
 church-yard just beyond the orchards, and sloping a 
 little to the banks of the deep, narrow river. The 
 gray church spire could be seen from the windows on 
 that side of the house. The church was built by the 
 grandfather of Jasper Fairfax in his young manhood 
 and dedicated to the memory of the wife who died in 
 giving birth to a son. About the plain gray walls 
 was laid the dust of the Fairfaxs' and their servants. 
 Here then were brought Ralph and Agnes Redfield 
 and laid side by side with their bondman at their feet. 
 
 Now the household was gathered in the long draw- 
 ing room to hear the reading of the wills. The slaves 
 were all there. When did a Fairfax die forgetting 
 one that called him master? 
 
 John Cogswell was there, as a matter of course. 
 Doctor Ballantyne had been invited, as " suitable 
 and needful under the circumstances." Jasper Fair- 
 fax, with a frozen look upon his face that no one had
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 13 
 
 ever seen there before sat with downcast eyes. 
 Salome, pale as a lily in her black robes, felt more 
 lonely, she thought, than even the occurrences of the 
 last three days warranted. She felt a chill and an 
 unaccountable reserve in the manner of all who 
 approached her. John Cogswell, the business man 
 of the family, with whom she had always been on 
 terms of pleasant familiarity, spoke to her when nec- 
 essary with a mingling of brusqueness and ceremony 
 altogether new to him. Doctor Ballantyne who had 
 trained and petted her since her babyhood, passed 
 and repassed her now without the usual kindly word, 
 with no least comforting touch of his hands. Even 
 Jasper! He had always been her lover. He met her 
 with averted gaze, and words few and formal. Why 
 should these things be? Was this the proper be- 
 haviour in time of bereavement? There was another 
 thing that had happened. Now that the funeral was 
 over she had time to review it. That morning in 
 going to the church Jasper had ridden alone, and his 
 carriage had preceded hers. Victor and Aunt Sue 
 rode with her. Victor's arm supported her at the 
 graves. Even in that dreadful half hour, she felt how 
 much comfort there would have been in the touch of 
 Jasper's hand, in one whispered word of love. 
 Probably it was all in accord with the etiquette of 
 funerals. This was the first one she had ever attended. 
 Probably it was a blunder on the part of the director. 
 At the time she only felt lonely, and a longing for 
 sympathy. This was the only feeling she had when, 
 in the church she was seated with her slaves, in a 
 pew with Victor and Aunt Sue and Ceely, while Jas- 
 per occupied the seat of chief mourner. Now that
 
 14 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 all was quiet she found something new and strange 
 even in the behaviour of the slaves. She would have 
 supposed that they loved her too much to permit 
 them to indulge in cruel curiosity about her grief. 
 But she found herself watched by idle prying eyes. 
 The half grown blacks leered and whispered behind 
 their hands in her presence. 
 
 She had not been called to the dining room since 
 death came into the house. Aunt Sue carried a tray 
 to her room or sent Ceely with it. This she had ac- 
 cepted without question. Aunt Sue was getting gray 
 and old. She knew what was proper to do. 
 
 So now, when she entered the room to hear the 
 wills read, Victor met her, and seated her, not at the 
 end with Jasper, Doctor Ballantyne and lawyer Cogs- 
 well, but near the middle, and, just back of her were 
 grouped her slaves. Victor sat with one hand rest- 
 ing on her high-back chair. 
 
 In the midst of her vague wonderings Cogswell 
 arose and unfolded a long sheet of paper. He was 
 visibly nervous. His hands shook until the paper 
 rattled. His voice was tremulous as he began reading 
 the last will and testament of Ralph Redfield. It was 
 not much to read, but every servant was remembered 
 by a small gift of money, then all were commended to 
 the kindly care of his dear daughter Salome. To 
 her he left his medical library and all other books he 
 possessed. Several cases of surgical instruments, cab- 
 inets of curios, some choice marbles and bronzes, a 
 few fine jewels and all the monies of which he might 
 die possessed. 
 
 When this was finished there was a pause, and to
 
 Jasper Fairfax. i5 
 
 those not too preoccupied to see it, the lawyer's 
 agitation was painful. 
 
 Doctor Ballantyne, in a stage whisper admonished 
 him, " Be brave, be brave, get through with it as 
 quickly as you can. It's nothing, very common." 
 
 " Yes, I know, in some of the phases the circum- 
 stances are common enough, but I can't get used to 
 them," and he glanced furtively toward Salome. 
 
 All eyes were turned upon her, all but Jasper's. 
 He leaned his elbow on the arm of his chair, and his 
 head on his hand. 
 
 Salome sat with downcast eyes. Slow tears were 
 coursing over her cheeks. She heard the lawyer's 
 voice as in a dream. What had that long story of 
 quadroon Jocasta to do with her? and why should her 
 mother publish this shame after she and her unfaith- 
 ful husband were forever past sinning and repenting? 
 But, this little child named Salome! Ah! She lifted 
 her head. The tears on her cheeks were burned dry 
 in the crimson glow of shame. It meant that! She, 
 Salome Redfield, was not Redfield, she was only 
 Salome as Jo was Jo, as Ceely was Ceely, as Aunt 
 Sue " Oh! " with a long drawn moan. She turned 
 her eyes to the slaves. They met her questioning 
 gaze with no hint of sympathy. She was one of 
 themselves, nothing more. She looked at Jasper. 
 He had not changed his position. His hand hid his 
 eyes. 
 
 The reading was now of the disposition of the per- 
 sonal property of Agnes Fairfax Redfield. She too 
 remembered the slaves for kindness, long servitude, 
 honesty, and in a few instances for unusual faithful- 
 ness to trusts. Then she commended them one and
 
 1 6 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 all to her beloved nephew, Jasper Fairfax, her nearest 
 relation. Also, in accordance with her father's often 
 expressed wish in case she died without heirs, she 
 gave him in fee simple, her share in the lands known 
 as Fairfax Farms. She asked him, as he loved her 
 and in memory of their uninterrupted friendship to 
 regard her wishes in reference to several old slaves. 
 She wished them to be comfortably housed and cared 
 for as long as they lived. In the last clause was the 
 sharpest sting of all. It read: " Probably it will be 
 well to dispose of this girl known as Salome. Her 
 training may make her troublesome." 
 
 As this was read the girl sprang from her chair and 
 faced the group at the end of the room. Cogswell 
 mopped his face with his damp handkerchief. Doctor 
 Ballantyne gazed coldly upon the girl whose growth 
 he had watched with fond interest and quoted in his 
 professional voice : " Servants, be obedient to your 
 masters." 
 
 Jasper lifted his head and met Salome's blazing 
 eyes. What will he say? was the swift question her 
 heart was beating out. This man who had always 
 been her lover, who would have been her husband so 
 soon ah, would he? Now he was her owner her 
 master. Sometimes men had. loved and had given 
 honorable marriage to their chattels; but, would he? 
 She had used to call him Saul. He was so tall, so 
 kingly amongst men. His clear dark eyes had always 
 met her own so steadfastly, so admiringly. 
 
 To him she had been a stately sunflower with her 
 velvet brown eyes and her aureola of copper-colored 
 hair. She knew now how to account for the silken 
 ripples of this wonderful mass of hair, for the indefin-
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 17 
 
 able charm of her complexion. She knew, true 
 daughter of the South that she was, the cause of the 
 creamy transparency of her cheek that Jasper had 
 kissed and declared unequalled in all the world. But, 
 may-hap, so had her father kissed and praised her 
 mother. She waited for him to speak, not dreaming 
 of the effort it cost him to do so. She half expected 
 him to leave his place, to come and take her in his 
 arms and claim her by the old covenant. But, with- 
 out one slightest movement after meeting her eyes, 
 he said in a low steady voice, " Perhaps you would 
 better go to your room, Salome. I'll talk to you by 
 and by." 
 
 This was the first order from her owner. His voice 
 sounded hard and cold. He looked straight into her 
 eyes. She cowered before him. It was the look, 
 the tone of the master. 
 
 She left the room, this long, stately, beautiful room 
 where so often she had met her father's friends, 
 where so many times she had danced the hours away 
 with Jasper and other men who envied him in his 
 good fortune of lands and slaves, and coveted his 
 future wife. 
 
 She sat down when she reached her own room. 
 How strange everything looked! How that one 
 sentence seemed blazoned over everything: "Dis- 
 pose of this girl known as Salome." She who but 
 three days ago had all the world at her feet, and all 
 the world was as nothing compared with her one true 
 lover, was now, only a chattel to be disposed of. 
 
 That pale, cold, stony-eyed woman whom she had 
 called mother! Why, what a dual life she had lived! 
 She had written those words, "this girl known as
 
 1 8 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Salome" years ago. At any time since her childhood 
 the blow might have fallen. Did she wish it had 
 come sooner? "Ah, Jasper.!" 
 
 Had Mrs. Redfield acted well the lie? No. 
 Salome told herself now that she might have sus- 
 pected the truth long ago. Her father had petted 
 and caressed her always. He never could find names 
 for her that quite satisfied him. He praised her 
 beauty and her sprightliness continually. She could 
 not now remember one caress or one word of praise 
 bestowed upon her by Mrs. Redfield. She knew of 
 the disagreements between the husband and the wife 
 in regard to her education. Doctor Redfield fav- 
 ored governesses and home training; his wife in- 
 sisted on boarding schools, and had her way. 
 
 Salome sat with clenched hands and she spoke the 
 bitterness of her thought. 
 
 " I might have known she was not my mother. 
 No girl's mother I ever knew acted as she did. No 
 wonder my father, ah, he was my father! loved 
 Jocasta. A fine old Greek name! My mother was 
 beautiful too. But, what will Jasper say? Oh me! 
 Does he love me as my father loved Jocasta? I 
 wonder, if he had been free if he'd have made her his 
 wife. No, he would not," she answered herself. She 
 knew he was true to his class, true to tradition, true 
 to the code that stamped with contumely any least 
 taint of black blood. And yet, he would have mar- 
 ried her to Jasper, his wife's relation. Ah, yes, there 
 was the cropping out of the blot in his character. He 
 had lied to his wife and gratified his passion. He 
 would have lied to Jasper to benefit a part of himself.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 19 
 
 " Jasper will not marry me. How will he dispose 
 of me?" 
 
 She cowered where she sat and looked about fur- 
 tively. She caught sight of herself in a mirror. She 
 stared in wonder. How had that pale, crouching, 
 wild-eyed creature found her way into this room? 
 She opened her lips to speak, she lifted her hand. 
 Then she knew she was censuring her own shadow. 
 It was the blood of some fugitive ancestor stirring in 
 her veins that had disguised her to her own eyes.
 
 2O Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Next morning a half-grown girl came to Salome 
 with a message. 
 
 Usually Ceely had done all errands to and from 
 Salome's room, but, since assisting, in a dilatory, 
 impertinent fashion to dress her mistress for the 
 funeral, she had not shown herself in the room. 
 
 This message was only, " Mas' Fai'fax wants to see 
 yo." 
 
 " Very well Nan," Salome answered. " Send 
 Ceely to help me dress." 
 
 The girl stared at her and grinned, but went away. 
 In a minute she was back, still grinning. 
 
 "Aunt Sue done tole me Ceely's busy, and yo 
 mustn't keep Mas' Fai'fax waitin'. 
 
 There could be no mistaking this. The servants 
 must have their cue from the master. She only 
 needed a word from him in confirmation. 
 
 Her night-long vigil had left her languid and 
 heavy-eyed. She had tasted no morsel of food since 
 knowing herself as only " the girl Salome." Still 
 she was not quite spiritless. She would know from 
 himself how her master meant to dispose of her. 
 
 She arose with blazing eyes and flushing cheeks. 
 She shook out the heavy hair, and, all unaccustomed 
 as she was to the task, twisted it loosely and grace- 
 fully into a coil on top of her head. She pinned it in 
 place with a few jet pins that shone like dark eyes in 
 the burnished coppery coils. She wrapped about her
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 21 
 
 a heavy black silken robe with never a glint nor a 
 rustle. She had used to wear it lit up with amber or 
 turquoise. Now the dead black was only relieved 
 with jet. 
 
 As she passed down the broad stairs she knew she 
 was watched by the house servants from landings, 
 closets and half-open doors. At the foot was Victor. 
 He stood with down-cast eyes. How kind and af- 
 fectionate he had always been to her. He had known 
 all about her, all her life. He knew where her mother 
 was hidden away. No doubt he had been the go- 
 between for Doctor Redfield and Jocasta all these 
 years. 
 
 As she passed him he leaned over her and 
 whispered hurriedly: 
 
 " Be brave, I'll stand by you." 
 
 She answered him with a glance, this uncle of hers, 
 and her cheeks burned and there was a dragging 
 weight at her heart as she tacitly acknowledged the 
 relationship. 
 
 She passed into the drawing room. There sat 
 Jasper, idly gazing out through the open window. 
 It was a fair sight. The lawn, sloping away and 
 melting into fields covered with pluming corn or 
 billowy grass, and these stretching to join the wood- 
 lands that had been so carefully pruned there was not 
 an unsightly tree within its hundreds of acres. There 
 was no finer estate in all Kentucky than Fairfax 
 Farms. The first owners, two English brothers had 
 obtained it from the government before the rebell- 
 ious Colonies had cut away from the Mother Country 
 across the Sea. In the days long before there were 
 state lines, wandering bands of Indians had camped
 
 22 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 in peace within sight of the cabins of the tall Fairfax 
 brothers. Hunters and trappers of all the nation- 
 alities that came flocking to the great hunting 
 grounds found in these cabins a welcome at coming, 
 a helping hand, a cheerful word and a full provision 
 wallet at going. 
 
 Through strange chance, through five generations 
 the farms had never been divided save by two. 
 
 They were not a prolific race, though always of 
 tall stature and perfect health. Though there had 
 been daughters they invariably died childless, and 
 then their portion reverted to the Fairfax estate. It 
 had never happened that cousins had married. With 
 Old World ideas of family dignity, the oldest son had 
 been named Jasper, always. In the little church- 
 yard looking over the deep-walled river lay four of 
 the name, each representing his own generation. 
 
 The Jasper Fairfax who now gazed so complacent- 
 ly upon his fair inheritance was a fine representative 
 of his race. There was left in his face and physique 
 no trace of English origin. His fair faced, blue-eyed 
 British forefathers had wooed dark girls of the 
 further south; girls with storm-black hair, haunting 
 eyes, musical voices and feet trained to time the 
 throbbing of guitars, the clatter of castanet. 
 
 Jasper Fairfax was purely American, soul and 
 body. Tall, broad of shoulder, slender of hip, light 
 of step, quick of motion. His clean cut features had 
 lost English roundness, but had gained lines that a 
 sculptor might have copied in his Greek god. His 
 eyes were greenish hazel, his hair, black in shadow, 
 golden bronze in sun was abundant and full of the 
 fascination of shifting waves.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 23 
 
 In his school and college days when boyish ad- 
 mirers would say to him openly : 
 
 " Fairfax, you're a devilish handsome fellow," he 
 had no answer but to drawl indifferently: "Yes, I 
 reckon you're right, the Fairfaxs' were good looking 
 people to start with and they've always had the good 
 taste to match themselves well in marriage." 
 
 Since the death of his aunt his mind had been ex- 
 ercised continually with the turning over and over of 
 one thought: The change that had come to his own 
 fortunes. Once more Fairfax Farms were undivided. 
 If Salome had been his cousin, very soon she would 
 have been his wife. The land would have been his, 
 virtually, and yet there would have been frequent 
 legal formalities to remind him of the real ownership. 
 His aunt's chattel and personal property would have 
 been Salome's without question. Now she had only 
 what her father left for her. He recalled Doctor 
 Redfield's specifications. He had mentioned his 
 library, his curios, his surgical out-fit, his jewels and 
 his money. 
 
 Ralph Redfield, as a boy and young man, had 
 shown great brilliance in the study and practice of 
 medicine. If he had not married a rich woman no 
 doubt he would have risen to eminence in his pro- 
 fession. As it was, he cut down his large and in- 
 creasing practice in the town of Bellaire to a few 
 chosen families. These, for a certain annual sum he 
 agreed to serve for a certain number of months in the 
 year. He allowed nothing to defer his periodical 
 hunting and fishing excursions, neither would he 
 debar himself from social pleasures, and frequent 
 trips east or west or north or south with his wife. He
 
 24 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 always had his business and professional cares well in 
 hand. There seemed to be no limit to his faculty of 
 delegating his powers. 
 
 There was never a word from him of neglect or 
 betrayal of trust. His long, deep blue eyes drew 
 souls within his reach, and one touch of his graceful 
 hands compelled their surrender and bound them to 
 loyalty. 
 
 As Fairfax reviewed the character of his uncle-in- 
 law, he smiled. It was no wonder that he had suc- 
 ceeded in making that strange compact with his wife. 
 The two had been married five years when Salome 
 was born. Their devotion to each other was pro- 
 verbial amongst their friends. Not one least hint of 
 the true state of affairs had ever been given. Neither 
 was it to be wondered at that Redfield had not broken 
 with Jocasta. Probably, when he promised his wife 
 to do so, he meant to keep faith with her ; but, would 
 Jocasta ever consent to forget him? After holding 
 him for years as her lover, could she find it in her 
 heart, or in her passion-swept will to deny herself? 
 
 The smile died on the lips of Fairfax. The off- 
 spring of these lovers had nearly been foisted upon 
 him as his wife. He was by no means certain that 
 his aunt would have prevented it if she had not been 
 so suddenly overtaken with tragedy and death. But, 
 Cogswell assured him, that if in any case she had 
 failed, he would have told the story. So now he had 
 this problem to deal with: How dispose of the girl 
 known as Salome? Not much of a problem, he 
 thought, at most. His experience with the inferior 
 race had shown him that submission and dependence 
 were potent factors in the make-up of the majority.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 25 
 
 Where there was but a tincture of the torrid blood, as 
 in Salome's case, vanity, love of ease, luxury, display 
 and approbation made up the personality. Usually j 
 far from there being anything vicious and revenge- 
 ful in mixed blood, mulattos and quadroons to the 
 faintest taint were cowardly and cringing. Sneak 
 thieves they might be, but not bold marauders. 
 Slaves who had murdered their masters, or led in- 
 surrections had been the overgrown, ungainly, coal- 
 black monsters. It was simply an excess of strength 
 fomented by mischief-making prating of would-be 
 reformers. He feared nothing in dealing with Salome 
 more serious than a shower of tears and a season of 
 coquettish sulking. No doubt she would be disap- 
 pointed, but, tractable. Time would heal all this, 
 and, 
 
 " Good morning Mr. Fairfax," and the black- 
 robed figure stopped just within the door. " I'm 
 sorry to have kept you waiting, but " 
 
 "Ah, Salome!" " 
 
 The voice was glad and caressing. He arose and 
 hastened to meet her. He took her hand and clasped 
 the other arm about her shoulders. 
 
 She lifted her face, a wondering smile growing in 
 her eyes. Their lips met as of old, and she leaned 
 against him. All her forebodings vanished. She 
 almost laughed aloud. In her selfish grief she had 
 wronged him! 
 
 His thought was ; "I was right. She loves me and 
 will be as clay in my hands." 
 
 He led her to a sofa and they sat together. He 
 kept her in his arms. Their words were few. Little
 
 26 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 caressing touches were more eloquent than words. 
 She felt rested and comforted. 
 
 By and by, she told him how lonely and strange the 
 house had grown. The servants, one and all were 
 disrespectful. They were anxious, she supposed, to 
 keep her in mind of her position. 
 
 " I'll see to that, darling. I'll let the whole pack 
 know that the girl I love must be treated with the 
 most kindly consideration. Else, something new 
 will happen at Fairfax Farms. There'll be a sale and 
 a few niggers will find another master." 
 
 Salome answered with head erect and brightening 
 eyes: " No doubt dear, if they once understand that 
 our relations are unchanged they will behave as 
 usual." 
 
 Fairfax winced. He saw she did not in the least 
 comprehend his purpose. 
 
 " For the present," he said, " I think I'll leave you 
 here as sole mistress of the house, just as Aunt Agnes 
 was." 
 
 " Oh yes, of course, while I'm in mourning." 
 
 "And, as you have many valuable things here, left 
 you by your father, this is entirely proper. We 
 can make other arrangements if there should be any 
 reason for letting this place for a time. That has 
 been done before when there has been but one 
 Fairfax." 
 
 " Yes," and Salome's pale cheek flushed. She 
 waited breathlessly for him to say on. 
 
 " Then, you will live with me in the other house," 
 and he clasped her closer and kissed her lips, her 
 cheeks, her eyes, her throat. He even pulled away 
 the black draperies about her bosom and pressed his
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 27 
 
 burning lips where lips had never touched before, 
 save, possibly her mother's or her father's in her 
 infancy. 
 
 She raised her hands to resist him, but he put them 
 down and held them, whispering between rapid 
 kisses : " You are mine ! mine ! My beautiful, warm 
 loving Salome! Mine by love and by law! " 
 
 " Then how useless," she said laughing " was that 
 exposure by your aunt. She might better have left 
 the story untold since we are to marry just the same." 
 
 She was looking into her lover's eyes. All her 
 world was there. A change swept over his face. It 
 darkened almost to a frown; but the cloud was gone 
 as quickly as it had come, and he said with a close 
 caress : 
 
 "Ah yes! we will marry mating ourselves as the 
 birds and flowers mate because it is nature and love 
 drawing us to each other. There will be no need of 
 parson, book and bell; no place for superstitious 
 ceremony with ring and conventional costume. We 
 are already bound in our hearts because of the love 
 we bear each other. The hours we will pass together 
 will rival in ecstatic bliss those enjoyed by Antony 
 and Cleopatra. We will rehearse the loves of Paris 
 and Helen, or," and he smothered her with kisses 
 " your own father and Jocasta." 
 
 " Jasper! " and she tore herself from his arms. " Is 
 that what you mean? " 
 
 She stood erect before him. Her cheeks were 
 crimson, her eyes were fire. He too arose. He was 
 cool, smiling, admiring. 
 
 " Really Salome, you know we cannot live without 
 each other, and there's no other way. You know
 
 2 8 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 as well as I that a regular marriage now that your 
 origin is known, is impossible." 
 
 She stood with dilated eyes, her bosom heavily 
 rising and falling. 
 
 "And you will marry some one else? " she said 
 hoarsely. 
 
 " Sometime, of course. A man in my position 
 must marry. If Aunt Agnes had kept the secret of 
 your birth, from Cogswell as well as from me, you 
 and I would probably have married the sooner be- 
 cause of this calamity. But, it would all have been 
 discovered sometime. Of course Victor knows? " 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so," and Salome covered her face 
 with her hands. 
 
 " Somewhere, Jocasta is living. No doubt Victor 
 knows where. You see it was as well that Aunt 
 Agnes told the story." 
 
 " But, Jasper," and she lifted her head, " I am 
 sure if our positions were reversed I would not forego 
 my covenant with you." 
 
 " Indeed you would. You would not turn traitor 
 to your race any more than I will." His jaws were 
 set squarely, and he threw his hands behind him. His 
 head was lifted, his eyes were clear. He looked not 
 at all the same man who, a moment before had been 
 swayed by passion, insane with desire for the beauti- 
 ful woman that the law had made his chattel. Now 
 he might have stood for the embodiment of any great 
 principle for which heroes have died. 
 
 Salome, watching him, noted the rapid transforma- 
 tion. Now he was her king of men. Her thought 
 was: He is a grand man! How proud would I be to 
 stand by his side, his equal, his wife. His face is
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 29 
 
 darker than mine, but, the purity of his blood is as 
 evident as is the taint in mine. But, as an unlawful 
 lover, no. 
 
 She felt, without understanding, that there had 
 never been anything tragic in romance, history or 
 human possibilities, that might not come into their 
 lives if they once entered upon this relation with each 
 other. 
 
 "No, Salome," he continued, "you would not, in 
 my position, stand by our old covenant. Even if 
 Aunt Agnes had kept the secret; if Victor had not 
 known; if Jocasta had died at your birth; yet, the 
 truth would sometime have shown itself. 
 
 " I cannot afford to take the chance of giving to my 
 children, the heirs of this beautiful Fairfax estate, the 
 bearers of an old and honorable name, the conse- 
 quences of a broken law. Your father educated you 
 thoroughly. You know what these consequences 
 might be. Why, I half believe, that Uncle Redfield's 
 long talks on these matters were meant to prepare 
 you and me for developments that might come after 
 he should be as he is now, beyond question and 
 beyond reproach." 
 
 Salome stood with downcast eyes, her hands 
 clasped before her, all her brilliant color gone. There 
 was something hopeless, helpless, and weary in her 
 attitude. She might have been a Christian martyr 
 waiting for the sacrifice. 
 
 Fairfax stepped to her side. He clasped her 
 folded hands in one of his own and drew her close. 
 He felt her shiver as she passively leaned against him. 
 He scanned her face closely. Was it a sensation of 
 repulsion, or passion? She gave no sign.
 
 30 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " No Salome, we cannot marry, in the usual accept- 
 ance of the word; but, we need not separate. We 
 can be the truest of lovers, the warmest of friends. 
 No other woman can ever take the place you fill in 
 my heart. No other woman will ever be cared for so 
 tenderly as I shall care for you." 
 
 She lifted her eyes to his face, her breath was chill 
 as it passed his lips. He started and released her 
 from his clasp. For an instant he felt as remorseful 
 as if he had struck a dagger through her heart. With 
 all his soul he pitied her, but there was no least 
 shadow of a thought of relenting. She asked of him 
 an utter impossibility. She asked for bread and he 
 offered her all he possessed an apple of Sodom. 
 
 " This is very kind of you, very considerate." She 
 spoke in a hard, even tone. " I thank you. I fully 
 realize my position, and yours. Where many 
 masters would have commanded, you have conde- 
 scended to plead ; to play the lover. As I have often 
 said, you are a king amongst men. You grace every 
 position you find yourself in. Can you add to your 
 kindness by allowing me a short time to adjust my- 
 self to the new conditions? I'll try to be reasonable." 
 
 " Salome, you are a two-edged sword," he an- 
 swered bitterly." The new conditions are hard for 
 me as well as for you. Don't you believe it? as she 
 smiled scornfully. " I might send you away, or 
 allow you to go where you please; but what awaits 
 you. Your story will travel faster than you can. 
 Would you prefer taking the position I offer you 
 with some new lover. What man, knowing what I 
 know would marry you? If you were a plain woman
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 31 
 
 it would be different in many ways. Then believe 
 me, I love you Salome, I love you." 
 
 " I believe you." 
 
 "And listen: You ask for time. You shall have 
 it. Take your own time. Be at liberty to go and 
 come as usual. I'll give orders to Victor; he will 
 train the others. They need not know but that we 
 are to marry. Then, Salome when you see fit to 
 receive me, let me know. Good-bye." He lifted her 
 hands, kissed them and was gone.
 
 3 2 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Jasper Fairfax was experiencing an entirely new, 
 and a not quite pleasant sensation as he left this house 
 that was now his own. The thought came to him 
 that probably Salome would offer him a price for her 
 liberty. He had no idea of the amount of money her 
 father had accumulated. It was mentioned indef- 
 initely in his will. She was a well educated girl, 
 amply capable of earning a livelihood. But, even 
 if he could gain his own consent to let her go, and if 
 her father's bequest should prove but small for her 
 extravagant tastes and habits, would she work? 
 Would she not drift, sooner or later into the very way 
 of life that he proposed? By and by, if he should 
 marry, and he must marry, then, if she wished it, he 
 would free her. 
 
 He sauntered slowly up the long avenue of beeches 
 that led from one house to the other. When he 
 gained his own home, he walked the length of the 
 protecting verandas many times, feasting his eyes on 
 his possessions. It was truly a magnificent estate. 
 It had come to him through no effort of his own. The 
 hands that planted the trees or trained those left of 
 the " forest primeval " were long ago dust. The 
 two great stone houses with their thick walls, pic- 
 turesque towers, spacious rooms, broad stairways 
 and general air of opulence had sheltered four 
 generations of his name. 
 
 Heretofore, when reviewing his situation in life,
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 33 
 
 he had the acumen to see that he was peculiarly 
 fortunate. His face and person, were by nature and 
 culture, far beyond the average. 
 
 His patrimony, considered financially, even with- 
 out the share of Fairfax Farms owned by Mrs. Red- 
 field was equal to a dukedom. 
 
 His mind was clear and active, his health was 
 perfect. 
 
 More than all, fate, and his nearest kindred had 
 provided the loveliest woman the sun ever shone 
 upon for his wife. Now this last was changed. He 
 was so accustomed to waving away difficulties it was 
 hard for him to acknowledge that the terms he 
 proposed to Salome, and her manner of receiving 
 them troubled him. Prompt action was his nature 
 and his habit. Nothing that came to his hand was 
 much "sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought." He 
 too would have cut through at once the Gordian 
 knot. If the cord was ruined, so much the better for 
 the industry of cord making. 
 
 And yet, how vain it was that he told himself, that 
 liberty for Salome meant only ruin with no pal- 
 liating features. He was not comforted by assuring 
 himself that, loving each other as they did, the clouds 
 would soon disperse and they would be supremely 
 happy together, at least for a while. 
 
 This while would last until he should marry. Then 
 he would do anything for Salome that she wished, if 
 they found it desirable or necessary for them to 
 separate. On the heels of this conclusion came a 
 vision to his mind of a fair tall girl. Her violet eyes 
 were like deep wells, and from their depths looked 
 up the purest of all that was left to the bankrupts of
 
 34 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Eden, a womanly soul. Unconsciously Fairfax 
 lifted his head. His whole oersonality put on a 
 nobler guise. 
 
 "Ah, if I may win her! But, she reads men like a 
 page of long primer. She'll look into my soul, and 
 see there Salome. Ah, Adelaide 1 pure as a star 
 and I fear, quite as far above me ! " 
 
 Then came a muttered curse on his Uncle-in-law 
 who had baited this trap for him. Not content with 
 the gratification of his own lawless passion, he must 
 look ahead and strive to foist upon another man his 
 illegitimate, mongrel offspring. 
 
 He was still busy with these thoughts in the evening 
 as he sat on the veranda that faced toward the other 
 house. In the quiet, the muffled murmer of the river, 
 stealing along between its high walls could be heard 
 below the nearer sounds of the house servants rat- 
 tling the glass and silver of the dinner service, and the 
 field hands in the quarters. The whole house was 
 open to the evening breeze. A whippoor-will in 
 one of the trees near the house began its melancholy 
 cadence and was answered by another from towards 
 the river. As Fairfax pondered; still the faces of two 
 women floated through his brain. The one, warm, 
 lustrous, passionate, with brown eyes and a cloud of 
 slumbrous flame about her shoulders. 
 
 The other, fair as snow, with only the odor of white 
 roses in her golden brown hair, and her pansy eyes 
 looking through and beyond him. Cleopatra and 
 Galatea. Would the beautiful marble warm into life 
 and step down from her pedestal at his bidding? "Oh 
 my sins! " he sighed. " Shall I add to them? "
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 35 
 
 He was walking up and down the veranda that 
 sheltered three sides of the house. 
 
 A solitary voice arose in the quarters, singing a 
 quaint melody, suitable, it was supposed for the time. 
 It was weird, solemn, with that unmistakable Afro- 
 American abandon: 
 
 "Oh de day is done, de night comes down, 
 
 Come Jesus, carry me! 
 My po' feet's weary an' I caint run, 
 
 Come Jesus, carry me," 
 
 "Oh my Jesus! Oh my Jesus! 
 Come fo' to carry me home." 
 
 At the second verse, a second voice from the Red- 
 field quarters took up the melody and the two soloists 
 blended like one voice and a simultaneous echo: 
 
 " Take me home across the flood, 
 
 Come Jesus carry me! 
 Make me white wid dy own blood 
 
 Come Jesus carry me! " 
 
 Then the two companies of slaves joined in the 
 chorus. This song, and it was a long one, was fol- 
 lowed by another and another. The night grew 
 quieter, the murmur of the river was louder, the 
 whistling of the whip-poor-wills sharper. Nesting 
 birds in the trees stirred and chirped as if in gentle 
 protest against their noisy neighbors. 
 
 The moon, almost a perfect circle was showing it- 
 self above the trees, and casting heavy shadows.
 
 36 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Fairfax wondered how much longer the concert 
 would last. Accustomed as he was to the singing of 
 the slaves through the summer evenings, he felt this 
 night, how lonely he would be without it. Nowhere 
 in all the world could there be just such a concert 
 under just such circumstances, excepting in the states 
 of America where Afro-Americans were the chattel 
 property of the whites. Was there anything visible 
 in these conditions denoting discontent? Re- 
 formers, agitators, fanatics were busy. What could 
 they do? What would the next year or two bring 
 forth? 
 
 The musings of this man who was called master 
 by over two hundred blacks were straying away from 
 his personal affairs. True he was conscious of an 
 undercurrent of troubled thought, in the measure 
 that he continually heard the babble of the river. He 
 was still wavering, and he was losing patience with 
 himself. Still pitted against each other, were Cleo- 
 patra and Galatea. 
 
 But, the case was nearing a decision. In the pure 
 cold light of the moon, Galatea on her pedestal, 
 marble though she be, is more than all other 
 women. 
 
 This passion for Salome was habit and contact. 
 When had he not worshipped Adelaide Francis? 
 Worship was the word. He had never given one 
 thought of marriage to any other than Salome. But 
 now the senses were in abeyance to the soul. He 
 knew that in his feeling for Salome was no element 
 that might not be evoked by any other beautiful girl. 
 
 He threw the stub of his cigar on the lawn and it
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 37 
 
 glowed there, deadening the young grass like an 
 evil deed in a fresh life. 
 
 He raised his eyes, he touched his fingers to his 
 lips, and waved his hand towards the Redfield house : 
 
 " Sleep well, Salome. To morrow you shall be 
 free; but if allowed, I will guard you as any brother 
 might a beautiful, unfortunate sister." 
 
 As he gazed, he was sure he saw in the misty light 
 a puff of smoke rise above the roof of the house. He 
 smiled. Probably Salome was burning old letters; 
 or it was mist, or imagination ? 
 
 He threw back his shoulders and breathed deeply 
 as of one relieved of a burden. He dropped himself 
 into a hammock and listened to the new song that 
 was begun by the Redfield slaves. 
 
 "Oh de jedgement, de jedgement, 
 
 De cha'yot's in de sky, 
 De sun's put out and de moon's fell down, 
 
 We's gwine home bime-by." 
 
 With a mighty burst came the chorus from two 
 hundred throats: 
 
 "Oh glory! oh glory! 
 De jedgement cha'yot's in de sky, 
 We's gwine home bime-by." 
 
 The soloist was beginning the second verse, when 
 Fairfax sprang to his feet. It was not imagination 
 now, it was not mist. It was unmistakable smoke, 
 black smoke, such as never rose from the burning of 
 a girl's love letters! It rolled straight and black
 
 3^ Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 above the trees about the house. What could it 
 mean? Save the lamps and candles there had been 
 no fire in the Big House for weeks. 
 
 He stepped to the hall and called " Prax! " 
 
 " Yes, Mas' Jaspa," came from the dusk, " Dey's a 
 light in yo' room." 
 
 " I don't want a light, run to Simmons' house and 
 call him. Tell him to come quickly. Call the 
 quarters as you go by. Tell the men to run to Miss 
 Agnes' house with all the buckets and ladders." 
 
 " Yes Mas, Jaspa," and the slender young fellow 
 was up and away. But, before the sound of his hur- 
 rying feet had died, there was a roar as of sudden 
 thunder, followed by a muffled echo like the fall of an 
 avalanche, and black smoke rose in a great dense 
 cloud from amongst the trees, and lay a blot on the 
 beautiful night. 
 
 Then were heard screams and groans and prayer- 
 ful exclamations instead of the solemnly joyful songs. 
 
 Fairfax was horrified. Were they only frightened, 
 or were they injured and dying? And where was 
 Salome? 
 
 "Oh God!" he groaned, "who has done this?" 
 It was hardly possible that the slaves, other than the 
 house servants, were away from the quarters. Often 
 they were all there. Victor, Aunt Sue and Ceely al- 
 ways slept in the house. 
 
 Fairfax's thoughts ran rapidly. It must have been 
 an accident. Doctor Redfield had usually kept a 
 stock of ammunition in his strong room in the base- 
 ment of the house. No doubt some crafty, pilfering 
 creature, fancying that there was money secreted 
 there had searched for it, not knowing of the powder.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 39 
 
 A lighted candle or a match had been dropped. He 
 had concluded thus far as he hurried down the 
 avenue, hatless, coatless, shouting orders to the chat- 
 tering blacks, and his half-dressed overseer. Sim- 
 mons too had seen the smoke before Prax called him, 
 and was starting, half prepared for bed as he was, to. 
 investigate. 
 
 The scene was bedlam out-done. Every outside 
 door was blown from its hinges, the windows were 
 shattered, the roof had fallen in, and the whole inside 
 of the house was a mass of flames and smoke. The 
 heat for yards about the walls was intense. Ladders 
 and buckets were of no use. The blacks stood about 
 shrieking, or knelt and prayed, or lay prone upon the 
 ground in the dumb agony of fright. 
 
 Fairfax ascertained at once who had been in the 
 house. The quarters were too far away to be injured, 
 and, as it frequently happened, the house servants 
 were all there, " Ceptin Victor," said big Tim. 
 
 "And Salome! where's Salome?" Fairfax asked 
 fiercely as he shook the giant slave by the shoulder. 
 
 " Miss Salome? Oh, fo' God, Mas Jaspa, I don' 
 know. Ceely done come down an' say Miss Salome 
 didn't want huh, an' dah she stayed. I haint seen 
 Miss Salome." 
 
 "Where's Ceely now? he asked. "Find her! 
 Why did she leave her mistress alone in the house? " 
 
 But Ceely, when haled before her master by Tim 
 had only to say that Salome had dismissed her im- 
 mediately after dinner. That she was fully dressed, 
 though she said she was weary and sleepy. She had 
 brushed her hair, and braided it as usual for the 
 night, and then Miss Salome said she would write a
 
 40 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 letter. Ceely had gone down stairs and passed Victor 
 where he sat in an arm chair in the hall. She had 
 asked him to go out with her, and he answered sur- 
 lily that he " reckoned somebody better stay in the 
 house with Miss Salome." 
 
 She went out and ran down to the quarters. There 
 was nothing unusual in this. Fairfax, knew that the 
 slaves, scared by their superstitious fears avoided as 
 much as possible, a house where death had been. 
 
 While the fire raged and the slaves and their owner 
 gradually drew further and further from the intense 
 heat, one question was formulated in the minds of 
 Fairfax and the overseers of the two establishments. 
 
 Surrounded by the wild-eyed negroes of all ages 
 from the blinking pickaninny to the tottering octo- 
 genarian, Fairfax and Simmons and Roberts called 
 each by name, and each black man and woman called 
 their children together till every one was accounted 
 for. But, where were Victor and Salome. 
 
 In this huddled crowd, there was not one who 
 would have been brave enough to enter the basement 
 of the house alone after nightfall. 
 
 Fairfax spoke his thought: 
 
 " It must have been Victor;" and there was a groan 
 and a great rolling of eyes. The master recalled the 
 figure of the tall, sedate, handsome, reticent quad- 
 roon, who had been for so many years Doctor Red- 
 field's trusted personal attendant. He it must have 
 been, and yet, Victor knew better than his master 
 what the strong room contained. He was not the 
 man to meet with an accident of this overwhelming 
 kind. If he designed it, he might, inadvertently 
 sacrifice himself, but he would place Salome in safety.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 41 
 
 If he designed it, had he had time to escape? On 
 this thought Fairfax ordered a thorough search of 
 the grounds. If Victor had not escaped, perhaps 
 Salome might be in hiding somewhere frightened 
 out of her senses by the evil that had befallen her 
 home. Victor might have deceived her, and per- 
 suaded her out of the house on some trivial pretext. 
 
 Every nook of the gardens and orchards and lawns 
 was peered into. Voices called all up and down, in 
 every key, " Salome, Salome," but there was no 
 answer. 
 
 Fairfax threw himself into a garden chair and 
 called Ceely. 
 
 " What did Miss Salome do to-day after I left her?" 
 
 "After lunch," the girl answered " she went to 
 Bellaiah. She done come back 'bout five o'clock." 
 
 " Did you go with her? " 
 
 " No Victo' went. They had the pony phaeton." 
 
 There was nothing to be done. The flames were 
 smoldering within the gaunt bare walls, the upper 
 floors had fallen, and a bed of embers lay on the first 
 floor which had had a lining of stone and cement. 
 
 The mothers of sleepy, complaining children trailed 
 off to their cabins, and the overseers ordered the men 
 away to their beds. The house servants were put in- 
 to the care of Mammy Sheba, the Fairfax house- 
 keeper. When they were all gone, Fairfax urged his 
 overseers to go to their homes. 
 
 " I'll wait," he said. " Victor or Salome may be 
 somewhere near. You know in the present com- 
 plication of affairs they may be afraid to show them- 
 selves. I cannot believe that they perished. It's 
 too horrible!"
 
 42 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 He was left alone, and he wandered round and 
 round the smouldering ruin. The moon went down 
 and the stars turned white in the gray of dawn and 
 still he remained. 
 
 He had searched over every foot of the grounds 
 for rods. He had walked the length and breadth of 
 the gardens and the orchards many times. He had 
 wandered as far as the river, and up and down along 
 its precipitous wall he had called " Salome! Salome." 
 
 The sun arose but he could not tear himself from 
 the spot. Oh that those sulking embers would cool 
 so that he might have the debris raked and sifted, 
 and make assurance doubly sure by the finding of 
 some jewel Salome had worn, or even some ghastly 
 unconsumed shred of her body. Lacking these she 
 must have escaped. If she were only alive, some time, 
 some where he would find her. 
 
 There in the morning light stood the bare stone 
 walls, the towering chimnies, all that was left of the 
 home with its treasures of art gathered from all parts 
 of the world. Family and home erased from exist- 
 ance within four days. The fire had so far burned 
 itself out, that Fairfax could stand near the openings 
 in the walls, and look within. Most of the partition 
 walls were of stone or brick. 
 
 "Ah me!" he sighed. " Those ancestors of mine 
 built well. They built for all time, but they reckoned 
 without taking account of the alien element. I'm 
 sure Victor did this. He may have determined to 
 avenge his sister, and his niece;" and there alone 
 in the fair morning such a glow dyed the face of the 
 last Fairfax as had not been called up by the fierce 
 flames of the night.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 43 
 
 But, his thought ran on : 
 
 " No doubt if Aunt Agnes had kept silence all 
 would have been well. Victor would never, by the 
 quiver of an eyelash, have betrayed, even to Salome, 
 their relationship. What a plan Ralph Redfield laid ! 
 He loved this old place, he was proud to live here. 
 He felt, no doubt that in the grave he would like to 
 have a lasting claim upon it. So, he acknowledged 
 this tainted daughter, and kept the thumb-screws on 
 his wife for twenty years. I'm glad to feel sure that 
 no Fairfax would have done this thing. But, Oh 
 Salome! Will the loss of you in the relation I had 
 determined upon, and a life of bitter memory and 
 repentance expiate the sin I proposed against you? 
 Who can tell?"
 
 44 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The sun that arose so fairly shone but a little while. 
 By eight o'clock rain was falling in torrents. 
 
 " So much the sooner will the walls and the debris 
 be cooled," Fairfax said to his overseers. 
 
 Even while it was raining he had himself driven to 
 Bellair. He made inquiries and found that Salome 
 and Victor had been seen on the previous afternoon 
 by many acquaintances. They had made a few 
 purchases, trifling matters, gloves, or hosiery or 
 handkerchiefs, going about in a quiet, leisurely man- 
 ner, and constantly together. Salome's true history 
 was known, and for that reason persons seeing her 
 remembered. 
 
 Of Doctor Redfield's banker, Fairfax learned 
 something that surprised him. The doctor had ac- 
 cumulated a sum of money, that, considering his 
 sources of income and his manner of living seemed 
 fabulous. This money he had deposited, simply for 
 safety, and to be delivered when called for, in the 
 name of his daughter Salome. The president of the 
 bank said further that he had repeatedly suggested 
 ways of investing his money, and pointed out business 
 opportunities to the doctor. This neighborly advice 
 was always put aside. His usual answer was : " No, 
 life and speculation are uncertain. I want my girl to 
 be entirely free to do as she pleases." He talked a 
 great deal about the unsettled state of political mat- 
 ters, saying there were no means of knowing what
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 45 
 
 might happen; that the South was being crowded to 
 the wall; that the North was jealous; and in case of 
 serious difficulty the border states would be the 
 battle-grounds. So, his girl should have nothing to 
 do, but fill her apron with dollars and fly to safety. 
 
 Himself he never considered. He was always 
 providing for Salome. 
 
 " Yesterday," Mr. Tottenham concluded, " Miss 
 Salome came, and as her father had said, took her 
 dollars in her apron, and went away." 
 
 "Did she take coin?" 
 
 "No, paper. According to Doctor Redfield's in- 
 structions, I always changed his deposits into large 
 bills and kept them in packages, ready for delivery at 
 the shortest notice. Yesterday the notice came and 
 Miss Salome's fortune was carried away by Victor in 
 a parcel that might have passed for a purchase at 
 a dry-goods house. If the two perished in the house 
 last night, of course," and Tottenham lifted his eye- 
 brows and turned his empty hands outward. 
 
 " Unless Victor placed it in the safe. Uncle Red- 
 field had one, warranted fire-proof, in his strong room 
 where he kept uncut jewels and other valuables. My 
 Aunt had in her possession many old time pieces of 
 jewelry that always followed the Farms. These were 
 kept in the safe. I think now that the two were plac- 
 ing the money there, or they were removing the 
 valuables preparatory to flight, when the powder was 
 fired. Or it might be that some professional thief 
 had tracked them from the bank." 
 
 " Will you try to trace the matter through the 
 detective service? " 
 
 "Oh no. I'll have the ruins searched for evidence
 
 46 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 that they perished there. I shall be glad if none is 
 found." 
 
 " But your family property? " 
 
 Fairfax shook his head: "The poor girl has been 
 sufficiently humiliated. If she is still alive, I hope 
 she may make good her purpose whatever it may be." 
 
 The rain ceased, the clouds rolled away, and no 
 thread of smoke arose from the ashes of the ruined 
 house. A force of men was selected, and Fairfax 
 went himself to manage the search. Doctors Dome, 
 father and son, were there and stood with him 
 amongst the scorched trees. The wood of the old 
 house had been so well seasoned that there was 
 nothing left of it but ashes. Masses of burned 
 plaster lay in heaps, mingled with what looked like 
 ropes of metal twisted into fantastic shapes. These 
 were the remains of copper, brass and silver frames of 
 pictures. A few pieces of bronze and marble were 
 found unbroken. 
 
 The men were all at work over the place where had 
 been the strong room. Here the ruin was most com- 
 plete; this corner receiving the first strength of the 
 explosion. From this corner had led a spiral iron 
 stairway directly to Doctor Redfield's rooms on the 
 upper floor. The stairway, bent and twisted, still 
 clung to its supports. It wound down the wall of 
 bare stone and lost itself in the debris below the first 
 floor. Here the men plied pick and shovel. Baskets 
 were piled with rubbish, lifted to the lawn, and there 
 carefully spread out and examined by some of the 
 women. Frequently Fairfax admonished the men: 
 " Be careful. Drag your picks. Don't strike so
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 47 
 
 deeply." He shivered and winced at each careless 
 stroke. 
 
 His thoughts were bitter indeed, but, as the after- 
 noon waned and nothing was found he grew hopeful. 
 " Salome must have escaped," he said to Doctor 
 Henry Dome, his life-long friend. "And if she's 
 alive, a thousand worlds will not hide her from me." 
 
 Young Dome shook his head, and his father went 
 and watched the women at their task. 
 
 Just then, one of the slaves, big Tim, with a yell 
 staggered backward, dropped his pick, and fell 
 sprawling. There at his feet lay a grinning white 
 skull. 
 
 "Oh God ! " Fairfax groaned, pressing his hands 
 over his eyes. Dome took up the ghastly thing, and 
 Fairfax seizing the pick that the negro had dropped, 
 worked amongst the slaves with trembling hands and 
 dilated eyes. His labors were rewarded. Another 
 skull, white as chalk, crumbling in places, rolled to 
 his feet. It was smaller than the first. He staggered 
 and would have fallen had he not been supported by 
 big Tim who had recovered from his fright, and now 
 stood valiently by his master. Only for a moment 
 he faltered, then rallying, he ordered the men as be- 
 fore. In a few minutes more two complete human 
 skeletons were found. They were carried to the 
 lawn, and Fairfax directed the men to uncover the 
 safe. The rubbish was soon cleared away now. No 
 care need be taken. The safe was found, and the 
 ammunition boxes, all open, all empty. 
 
 " There's nothing more to be done, boys," Fairfax 
 said and he climbed the stone stairway from the base-
 
 48 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 ment and stood on the trampled grass beside the poor 
 remains of humanity. 
 
 An old frosty-headed Auntie watched him: " Laws 
 don' he look lak 'is pa? an' nigh on to as old too." 
 
 He had but one thought: Salome was dead. 
 Bright, impetuous, beautiful Salome! When he left 
 her yesterday he had revelled in dreams of the time 
 and place of their next meeting. He had told her he 
 would wait for her to send for him. He had allowed 
 his fancy to run wild with picturing the way she 
 would look; how the rose color would come and go 
 in her cheek; how her dark veined eyelids would rise 
 and fall as she half invited, half repelled him. Now, 
 there she lay. There, the fulfillment of his dreams. 
 Oh Salome! Salome! Why had not some shadowy 
 premonition crossed his brain? Why had he not, on 
 the rising of his higher nature, flown on the wings of 
 the wind and called to her, even then plotting this 
 vast calamity. " Salome, you are free ! You are pure, 
 sinless; remain so!" For one stifling moment he 
 felt that life, with this suffocating cloud of remorse 
 was insupportable.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 49 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 As the two Doctors Dome took leave of Fairfax, 
 he felt that the world was swept clean of all that had 
 any claim upon him. He walked up the beech path 
 feeling as if wandering through a desert land. There 
 was nothing left for his eyes to rest upon, for his heart 
 to cling to. Far away, and ever receding was a 
 vision of Adelaide Francis. Had his first purpose in 
 regard to Salome been consummated, he might even 
 then have gone to her and won her for his wife. She 
 might have condoned the sin. Other women had 
 pardoned more in other men. But, now, with this 
 mark of Cain upon him ? 
 
 His capability of suffering was satiated. A great 
 numbness fell upon him. That night he slept the 
 dead, heavy sleep of utter exhaustion. 
 
 Late in the afternoon next day he came from his 
 room. Mammy Sheba hovered about him as if she 
 would like to take him in her arms and soothe him as 
 she used to when he was a child. Her voice trembled 
 and there were tears in her eyes. 
 
 Fairfax understood her, and as she came and placed 
 his coffee on the table he clasped her hand: 
 
 " It's a bad time, Mammy, isn't it? " 
 
 "Oh Mas' Jaspa!" and the other black hand was 
 laid on his head. 
 
 " But, neva min' Honey, de good Lawd he knows 
 w'at's bes fo youens. He's done cl'a'd every ting
 
 5 d Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 away now. He's got some so't o' wo'k fo' yo. You'll 
 see Honey." 
 
 "I don't believe I feel much like work, Mammy; 
 I've no one to work for." 
 
 " Now don' say dat Honey, who's gwine fo' to 
 look afta all dese people yo' got hyah? Whah is dey 
 any mo Fai'fax but yo, ceptin dese brack ones? 
 Wasn't we all done bawn hyah? Don' say youse 
 nobody to wo'k fo." 
 
 " You're right Mammy, there's work to be done for 
 your race. God alone knows how much and how 
 serious it will be. What's that? " 
 
 A sound of wailing and funereal singing came in 
 through the windows that opened toward the Red- 
 field place. 
 
 " Dat's de fun'al. Mas Simmons done let all of 'em 
 go. I wouldn't let 'em distu'b yo' to talk 'bout it." 
 
 "That's right, it's all right. Poor Salome!" He 
 dawdled over the dainty meal his old nurse had 
 prepared for him because it would have grieved her to 
 leave it untouched. He drank his coffee, and as the 
 faithful, loving old woman hovered round and 
 " honeyed " him he really felt, at least, not quite 
 forsaken. 
 
 By and by, he sauntered out through the hall on 
 his way to the veranda. He picked up a parcel of 
 mail as he went, but for some time he leaned idle in 
 his chair, smoking and listening to that wailing of 
 hymns. Then, he knew by the sounds that the 
 services were over. Watching that way he saw a 
 concourse emerge from the grove, pass into the high 
 way, and slowly wend its way to the burial ground.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 51 
 
 He could see, distinctly, the two caskets, carried by 
 stalwart blacks. 
 
 "Ah Salome! Salome! " he sighed, and the pain at 
 his heart was stifling. But it's all over," he was 
 speaking, there alone. " Mam Sheba is right. There's 
 work for me somewhere, and, I must do it." 
 
 His work was nearer than he would have guessed. 
 Amongst his letters was one from the district central 
 committee of his political party, asking him to be 
 present at their next meeting. They were in the 
 midst of arranging for the presidential campaign. 
 The work had been neglected, because of factions in 
 the party. What they wanted of him was that he 
 should speak for the party all during the summer and 
 fall until the very eve of the election. The writer 
 added : " You know the state of the country. Trouble 
 is brewing, men's hearts are failing. We want in 
 our service men of undoubted loyalty to the South. 
 We want men of large interests, men of ability, to go 
 into the field and speak for us. Can you refuse? " 
 
 Fairfax dropped the letter impatiently. What had 
 he to do with politics and scheming? And yet, if 
 men who were in the midst of it all felt there was 
 serious trouble near, was it right for him to shirk? 
 The attitude of Northern politicians toward the 
 South could not be mistaken; but, what could the 
 North do? Send fanatics and breed insurrections in 
 the South, truly. Cramp and curtail the rights of 
 Southerners in regard to going about with their 
 chattel property, and settling in the territories with 
 these chattels. That was done already. Doctor 
 Redfield had been preparing for trouble; but, his 
 expressions were ambiguous. In the light of Mrs.
 
 5 2 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Redfield's revelations, he may have feared trouble 
 for Salome only. Had he been entirely wise even in 
 preparing for her? 
 
 This political wire-pulling he most thoroughly 
 despised. The ranting of thread-bare fanatics had 
 been going on ever since Massachusetts loosed her 
 tenacious hold on her own slaves. But, were the 
 wire-pullers and fanatics going to accomplish serious 
 mischief at last? If they were, then, was it a merit in 
 him to stand aloof and declare with lofty scorn, " We 
 never mix in politics," the " We " meaning not only 
 all the living and dead Fairfaxs, but all the class to 
 which they belonged. Politics meant wrangling, 
 managing, working on men's weaknesses, stooping 
 to slander, dragging to light all the guarded secrets 
 of one's life. In short, going into politics was to stand 
 in a moral pillory, the target for the gibes of enemies, 
 and even the laughter and half believing tolerance of 
 friends. On his plane of life that was what going in- 
 to politics meant. And yet, it must mean something 
 else below all this froth and foam. The progress 
 made on the untouched shores of the new world in 
 the time they were divided amongst warring Euro- 
 pean powers, was not to be compared with the growth 
 of the Republic. What had made this growth pos- 
 sible and permanent? Surely there must have been 
 wisdom in the heads and goodness in the hearts of 
 some of the men who directed the affairs of the 
 government. Whatever of trickery there had been, 
 whatever of evil motive, whatever of jealousy, envy, 
 hatred and malice, still, the young republic had 
 prospered. Now there were fears of trouble. This 
 was the expression of conservatives. Amongst
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 53 
 
 radicals there were outspoken threatenings of dis- 
 union, of war. These were political matters, albeit 
 the harmful part of the work might be the harvest of 
 seeds sown by wire-pullers and demagogues. How 
 could they be headed off? How were plans to be 
 frustrated? 
 
 Fairfax picked up the letter and read again : 
 "Trouble is brewing; men's hearts are failing. We 
 want in our service men of undoubted loyalty to the 
 South. We want men of large interests, men of 
 ability, to go into the field and speak for us. Can 
 you refuse? " 
 
 Was this the work that Mammy was so sure the 
 " good Lawd " had for him to do? It had presented 
 itself in the right time to get a hearing, at least. He 
 felt that he must have action, and something to fill 
 his time, something on which to put forth all his 
 strength of mind and body. What could he do? 
 There was nothing in travel that could drive away 
 this fearful ennui. There was nothing to regret in 
 going away, nothing to come home to. Nothing but 
 his black people. No one for whom he cared more 
 than for Mammy Sheba. And, it was for his, and 
 other Southern men's black people for whom the 
 ferment was going on, for whom the cloud, no larger 
 than a man's hand, lay on the horizon. When the 
 storm burst over the heads of these dependent child- 
 ren of nature, what would be the consequences to 
 them? Since he had nothing else to do, he would 
 work for Mammy and the rest. 
 
 On the dim border land of his thoughts there 
 wavered the vision of a beautiful girl, but, as he 
 walked up and down in the twilight he said under his
 
 54 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 breath; "Vain dream: Never for me will Galatea 
 wake to life." 
 
 The letter was answered in the spirit in which it 
 was written. Within a few days Fairfax had com- 
 municated with the party leaders and set himself to 
 work with a zeal that surprised all who knew him. 
 It was the stormy campaign of 1860. It was the 
 time of bringing forth of that monster, Civil War. 
 It had been a long time in coming. Men could not 
 believe the evil was upon them. It was treated as a 
 joke. It was too horrible to believe, so it was. 
 ridiculed. 
 
 Fairfax came into the questions of the time with a 
 free mind. He had been no dabbler. He had lived 
 a leisurely, studious, observant life. In his addresses 
 to the people he gave them his reasons for speaking 
 to them in cool, clear, convincing arguments. He 
 was not currying favor with any party. He was not 
 truckling for place. He believed himself right. He 
 was loyal to his convictions. His earnestness made 
 a place for him in the hearts of the people. Great 
 things were predicted for him. But, the campaign 
 is history. In November the air was murky with 
 events that were looming black in the near future. 
 Mothers of tall sons had evil dreams, and brides, with 
 eyes made prophetic by love saw their orange wreaths 
 sprinkled with red, their veils made of crape. 
 
 Fairfax remained at home for a month or more. 
 His work of the last season had cleared his mental 
 vision in regard to Salome. He no longer blamed 
 himself unstintedly. He did not believe she had 
 gone to death deliberately. She and Victor were 
 planning mischief against him when death overtook
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 55 
 
 them. The mischief they had accomplished. He 
 had so far outgrown his horror and remorse that, as 
 the political sky grew darker, the thought of Adelaide 
 Francis was more continually with him. He resolved 
 to go to her, tell her the whole story and abide by her 
 judgment. Independent of this matter she might 
 prove indifferent to him. If so, the world was full 
 of fair women. After Adelaide they were all alike. 
 He resolved further, that Fairfax Farms should have 
 a mistress. He had no blood relation nearer than 
 some far removed cousins in England. 
 
 In January he went to Washington, ostensibly to 
 watch the trend of affairs in Congress ; really because 
 Senator Francis and his daughter were there. So, 
 while the Capitol was gay and splendid, while lovers 
 were sueing, while the dance was going on there came 
 the hand writing on the wall and still no one believed. 
 In December when South Carolina issued an ordi- 
 nance of secession, it was made the subject of corner 
 grocery wit, of newspaper jokes. In January when 
 there came the rupture in the Senate it was stigma- 
 tized a fine piece of acting. Other states of the South 
 followed their leader, South Carolina, and the Con- 
 federacy was formed. 
 
 In the midst of these days so full of evil omens, 
 Simmons summoned the Fairfax slaves on the lawn 
 one morning, to hear read a letter from the master. 
 Mam Sheba he called to stand beside him on the 
 steps. To her especially was the message sent. She 
 was to go to work at once and put the whole house in 
 the very best of order. Spare nothing. She knew, 
 if anybody did, what was necessary to be done when 
 a beautiful young mistress was coming to the place,
 
 56 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 She would remember Miss Adelaide whom she had 
 admired so much a year or two ago when she had 
 visited Salome. 
 
 The marriage was to take place very soon, but they 
 would not be home until the Spring. Probably if 
 political matters grew quieter they would cross the 
 water, or go south by steamer and come up the 
 Mississippi, reaching home by the first of May when 
 the farms would be at their freshest and loveliest. 
 There were great rejoicings. A house without a 
 mistress was not to the taste of the merry-hearted 
 negroes. Necessarily there could be but little gaiety 
 in a bachelor establishment. Sheba was in her 
 happiest frame of mind. Everyone about the farms 
 was in her service. Many long consultations were 
 held with Simmons and Roberts and their wives. 
 Even Mr. Cogswell, as " Mas' Jaspa's " man of busi- 
 ness had to drive to the house several times, accom- 
 panied by his wife, to decide matters of tints in walls 
 and draperies. Miss Adelaide had pansy eyes; every- 
 thing was worked out from that basis. Merrily the 
 work went on. In the midst of it, Simmons again 
 assembled the rejoicing blacks, and read to them 
 from a Washington paper, a full account of the wed- 
 ding of Adelaide, only daughter of Senator Archibald 
 Francis of Lexington, Kentucky, and Jasper Fairfax 
 of Fairfax Farms, same state. What did it matter 
 now, all those idle rumors of war? How foolish for 
 people to quarrel, as some people were doing! The 
 clouds were blowing away. The state, divided by 
 factions, torn by quarrels within its own lines, would 
 soon settle down in peace. This was what the quiet 
 farming folk over the north and the border states
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 57 
 
 were saying when there came the shot heard round 
 the world, and Fort Sumter changed masters. Then, 
 one rainy evening, while men " Crowded the road to 
 death as to a festival," Jasper Fairfax came home, 
 unheralded and alone. Simmons had happened to 
 be in Bellaire, had happened to be near the station 
 when the train came in. Then he had happened to 
 see his employer and Prax as they were about step- 
 ping into a hired carriage. So it had happened that 
 he brought them and their baggage through the 
 streets where everybody wondered to see the gallant 
 bridegroom with only his man, and all the way home 
 to the beautiful waiting house. 
 
 The slaves were utterly speechless. Even Mammy, 
 seeing in her young master's face unmistakable signs 
 of trouble, held his hand in silence, her big dark eyes 
 brimming with tears. 
 
 " It was all a mistake, Mammy, I have no wife." 
 
 " But Mas' Jaspa, honey, wasn't youens married fo' 
 sho?" 
 
 " Yes, Mammy, we were married. We thought it 
 was the happiest day of our lives, but, it was all a 
 mistake. If you and I can't have a Missus who will 
 stand by us, we won't have any. I'm afraid you and 
 I are going to be rebels. Miss Adelaide will stand 
 by the Government." 
 
 " Laws honey, she'd had mo' sense ef she'd stood 
 by youens Dat's no way fo' a man's wife to be 
 behavin'." 
 
 Next morning Fairfax asked Simmons to assemble 
 the blacks on the lawn. He told them as much as 
 they could understand of the situation of the country. 
 He told them what was meant by the taking of Fort
 
 58 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Sumter. He told them that he would stand by his 
 people and that he was going into the field for his 
 rights. He asked them to stand by him if they loved 
 him, to keep his home in readiness for him to come to, 
 living or dead. With solemn faces they all promised. 
 What would they not promise for this man who stood 
 to them for all that was great and good and kind. He 
 was their providence, their owner by divine right. 
 They could not understand the cause of all the 
 changes that he feared were coming to the country, 
 but their affectionate, clinging natures could under- 
 stand that the master had been sorely troubled, and 
 that he was going away.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 59 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 In this beautiful region of low hills and wide val- 
 leys, broken into farms, with its narrow river singing 
 between its steep banks, the war going on seemed 
 unreal. Simmons and Roberts read the war news 
 and translated to the slaves so they might know what 
 their Mas' Fai'fax was doing. The work of the farms 
 went on as it had been used to in other absences of 
 the master. Simmons was a middle-aged man. His 
 first position of overseer was with the father of the 
 present owner of Fairfax Farms. Roberts was his 
 son-in-law. One new phase in life on the farms was 
 the plays of the children. They were all soldiers 
 now. If they were set to weeding the gardens the 
 work was done so thoroughly that Mammy had no 
 complaints. Every weed was a Yank, and it was 
 Mas' Fai'fax who demolished it. 
 
 One other new element had come into the sing- 
 song life of the slaves. 
 
 It was the constant fear of the ghosts that hovered 
 about the lonely walls of the Redfield place. If by 
 chance any of them had to pass that way after night- 
 fall, there were stories told with staring eyes, and 
 shaky voice of one, two, and sometimes four or five 
 flitting forms in white, seen through the windows or 
 doors. Sometimes they walked mournfully about as 
 if searching for something; sometimes they sat in 
 groups about the wide fireplaces. 
 
 It was useless for the two white men and their
 
 60 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 wives to talk against this superstition, and, in justice 
 it may be said, the whites made as few errands in the 
 neighborhood of the ruin in the night time as they 
 could without inconveniencing themselves. The 
 women said " it was the talk of the niggers that made 
 them scarey." The men said nothing at all. They 
 quietly kept away from the place excepting in broad 
 daylight. 
 
 As the anniversaries of the two calamities ap- 
 proached, in July, there were fearful whisperings in 
 the quarters. Something most horrible would be 
 sure to take place. Mothers warned their children 
 to keep close by the cabin doors and be good; but, 
 the very day before the anniversary of the runaway 
 team and the death of Doctor and Mrs. Redfield and 
 Tom, there came the appalling news of the defeat of 
 the Confederates at Blackburn's Ford. Then there 
 was weeping and wailing and expectations that the 
 " Lincum Sojers " would come and sweep everything 
 before them as did the locusts in Egypt. Ghosts were 
 forgotten in the face of this more tangible evil. But, 
 the luxury of a first-class horror was not to be dis- 
 pensed with for a trifle. The sun rose and set, and 
 rose and set. No " blue-coated hirelings " were to 
 be seen. 
 
 The dates of the burning of the house and the find- 
 ing of the remains of Victor and Salome were at hand. 
 Would Salome come and wander about the ruins and 
 weep for her faithless lover and her lost jewels? 
 These jewels she was known to have possessed, and 
 yet, not one indestructible gem had ever been found. 
 Fairfax had discouraged the search for them. The 
 slaves were too fearful to venture on the quest, and
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 61 
 
 they knew too little of their value to care. It was the 
 overseers and their wives who remembered the 
 magnificence of the family jewels, as well as of those 
 possessed by Salome, who deplored the loss of so 
 much wealth. It was this quartette, that, on Sun- 
 days and circus days, when the slaves were all away, 
 went on a " still hunt " for the ornaments that would 
 have made them rich. The money, they acknow- 
 ledged with many a sigh was irretrievably lost, but 
 the diamonds oh the diamonds! The search was 
 quite fruitless. Not one least gem ever gleamed up 
 from the dust and ashes to gladden expectant eyes. 
 
 So, the fear of Lincoln's soldiers waned, and the 
 fear of the ghosts grew apace. Each dusky servitor 
 reviewed again and again every trifling errand that 
 could take him past the ruin on that dreaded night. 
 The work on Fairfax Farms was never so thoroughly 
 done. All was in order. Everybody would be with- 
 in doors by sunset or soon after. 
 
 That very afternoon Simmons came from Bellaire 
 with news of a great battle. This time the Confeder- 
 ates were victorious. Ghosts were forgotten. Hats 
 were thrown high and there were singing and shout- 
 ing and bonfires. Every cabin was deserted. The 
 children danced around the fires and giggled and 
 chattered. The men and women were wild; all but 
 Mammy Sheba. She sat smiling while tears rained 
 over her face : " Mas' Jaspa done been dar, My boy 
 done it all. He done chase dem Yanks." 
 
 So it was whenever war news came to the Farms. 
 Others might burn tar barrels, wave their hats and 
 shout themselves hoarse. Mammy only knew if
 
 62 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 defeat came to the Federal troops, " Mas' Jaspa done 
 ben dar." 
 
 When the tide of battle surged from Virginia into 
 Kentucky, when Zollicoffer met defeat and death at 
 Mill Spring, when Fort Henry passed into the hands 
 of the enemy, when there were 
 
 " Hearts swelling with rapture 
 
 For Donelson's capture, 
 Hearts breaking with aching 
 
 For Donelson's slain." 
 
 Mammy was sure that somehow her boy had not 
 been there ; " ef he ben dah, all dem Yanks would got 
 demsefs killed." 
 
 But her boy had been at Fort Donelson, and, the 
 disabling of his sword arm early in the engagement 
 sent him from the field, saving him from falling a 
 prisoner to the Federals, and, a few days later bring- 
 ing him home. He sent a message to Simmons to 
 have the carriage to meet him on a certain day at a 
 certain hour. All the bemoaning of the reverses 
 suffered by the Confederate army was hushed. The 
 master must not be reproached by so much as a look. 
 
 At the appointed time the closed carriage, half 
 filled with comforts and cushions, with big Tim on 
 the seat with Pomp, went to meet the master. Sheba 
 managed the expedition. Tim must go to support 
 " Mas' Jaspa; nobody knowed how bad he was hurt." 
 
 The whole force of the Farms stood about the 
 veranda steps when the carriage came back. Sheba 
 was in the open door, with a back-ground of warm 
 light from big open fires. Tim and Pomp, looked in-
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 63 
 
 expressible things as they came into view. Pomp 
 was about to get down when Tim ordered him to 
 keep his seat " an' hoi' onto dem hosses." Then 
 with the greatest formality, his hat tucked under his 
 arm, he opened the door and assisted Captain Fairfax 
 to the ground. Then, when Sheba was hurrying 
 down the steps to greet " Mas' Jaspa po' boy " with 
 his arm in a sling, he turned and with his left hand 
 assisted from the carriage a tall slender, blonde girl. 
 Was there ever such a wonder? Fairfax, meeting 
 the open mouths and round brown eyes of his slaves, 
 laughed in the low pleasant way they all knew so 
 well. As Mammy Sheba reached his side and touched 
 tenderly his bandaged arm, he said for her and the 
 rest: 
 
 " You see I got myself hurt a little in the fight, t 
 happened to meet Miss Westlake, and she took such 
 kindly care of me that I fell in love with her and we 
 called in the chaplain, and he married us. Now 
 you'll have a Missus to take care of you when I'm 
 away." 
 
 Sheba's heart went out to the slender girlish figure 
 beside her master, when she saw the gentle, protect- 
 ing air, heard the timid, " Take care, Dear," and the 
 delicate hand was extended to guide or support the 
 stalwart soldier. Fairfax smiled indulgently as he 
 said to Sheba : 
 
 "Mrs. Fairfax thinks I'm made of glass, she's afraid 
 I may get broken. Isn't that so, Marcia? " 
 
 " Not quite. Your nurse will know how careful 
 we must be when she sees your arm." 
 
 "Ah yes, no doubt you and Mammy will have a 
 good tjme making me believe I'm nearly killed, but,
 
 64 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 I'll be good as new and up and away within a few 
 days." 
 
 Between the two, wife of a few days and nurse of 
 many years, he entered the house. Everything was 
 warm, bright, cheerful. Mrs. Fairfax looked about 
 her with half frightened eyes. The rooms were so 
 lofty and wide. There were servants at every turn. 
 Ceely was called and put into the service of the new 
 mistress. The faithful agile Prax took possession 
 of his master, and giant Tim fell into the background. 
 No one dared, excepting Sheba, stay near the master 
 while his toilet was made. The bride, looking on, 
 wondered what would be her position in the midst of 
 the devotion of this crowd of slaves. 
 
 Next day she made an effectual attempt to take the 
 place with her husband that she had occupied before 
 coming home, that of chief nurse and advisor. She 
 insisted on doing everything for him. Before night 
 she was very weary, and yet she would not delegate 
 her cares to Sheba until Fairfax playfully commanded 
 her to go to her room, let Ceely brush her hair and 
 try to take a nap. 
 
 This day was like those that followed. If Sheba 
 offered assistance when it was really needed Mrs. 
 Fairfax politely refused. If Sheba insisted, en- 
 couraged by a smile from her master, she was sent 
 away on errands that were unnecessary. It was the 
 same way with the others. They were allowed to do 
 nothing for their master. If Fairfax remonstrated, 
 his pretty graceful wife had only to say: " I must be 
 first with you, dear." 
 
 " You are first, but, not as a servant." 
 
 He could see that the slaves were hurt by having 
 his wife continually stand between them and himself,
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 65 
 
 and, they were forming an opinion of her that nettled 
 him. He felt more fretted over the matter than he 
 would acknowledge. It seemed such a small thing 
 to be worried about. One afternoon, after he had 
 almost forcibly sent Mrs. Fairfax away with Ceely, he 
 wandered about the house looking for Sheba. He 
 found her in her own snug room that opened from the 
 hall on the first floor. 
 
 " May I come in, Mammy? This always was the 
 best room in the house." 
 
 " Laws honey, co'se you may come in. Seems lak 
 I neva see yo now, Mis Fai'fax keeps yo so," and 
 Mammy looked ready to cry. 
 
 Fairfax laughed and patted her hand : " You see 
 Mammy, I'm the first husband Marcia ever had," and 
 he settled himself in the big arm chair cushioned with 
 patch work, while Sheba put a pillow for his head and 
 another for his wounded arm. 
 
 " Then too," he continued, " you know she's a 
 Northern girl. She doesn't know you black folks 
 as well as she will by and by. I met her first two or 
 three years ago when we were up north in the Ad- 
 irondacks. She and Salome and Aunt Agnes were 
 together nearly every day for two months or more. 
 Adelaide was there too. It was a merry party." He 
 sighed and closed his eyes. " It's a queer world 
 Mammy." 
 
 " Yes, Mas' Jaspa, an' de queerest ting is dat you 
 fotch home a Yankee girl. How she come to be dar 
 'mong de sojers? " 
 
 " Her father and her brother were in the Federal 
 army. Last summer her father was ill and she came 
 South to nurse him. He was killed the other day at
 
 66 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Fort Donelson. Her brother has been missing since 
 the fight at Mill Springs. After I was wounded I met 
 her, and she was so perfectly helpless and miserable. 
 She didn't know what to do with herself. Poor girl, 
 she never had a home. Her mother died when she 
 was too young to know anything about it, and since 
 her school days she has lived in hotels and boarding 
 houses. With her father killed and her brother not 
 heard from for more than a month, the poor child 
 was frightened and lonely as you can imagine. She 
 was going through the hospital to see if possibly her 
 brother might not be there when she saw me. She 
 was like a lost child. First to soothe her, I told her 
 I'd get a maid for her and bring her here. She de- 
 murred, feeling it would not be proper. Said she 
 thought some of joining the hospital corps as, now 
 that her father was gone she did not care to go to the 
 Indiana town where they had lived. She hoped to 
 find her brother. I felt so sorry for her, Mammy, 
 after talking the matter over several times, that at 
 last I put my best arm around her and asked her if 
 she could possibly let the chaplain come in and make 
 her the wife of a battered old rebel." 
 
 '* Now dat's das lak my boy Jaspa, des marry a 
 Yank to be good to huh." 
 
 " But it's a very pretty Yank, don't you think so? " 
 
 " Yas, she's pooty, but, she ain't no Miss Adelaide." 
 
 " Please Mammy," and he raised his hand as if his 
 
 old Mammy had struck him. " No she isn't Miss 
 
 Adelaide, but she's a dear sweet girl, and I think she 
 
 loves your big boy much more than he deserves. 
 
 Adelaide cared neither for me nor for the South. If 
 
 she had she would'nt have deserted us."
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 67 
 
 "An yo aint skeered dat Miss Ma'sha'll done 
 go off home some day? " 
 
 " No indeed Mammy. This is her home. She'll 
 stay here for you to love and take care of when I go 
 back to my men. Then, you'll hear from me nearly 
 every day. My fair-haired darling must not be left 
 longing for a letter if I can send one. It will be 
 pleasanter *vork than writing to Simmons." 
 
 Sheba was about to answer when there was a swish 
 of skirts, in the hall, and a sweet voice, albeit with a 
 shade of fretfulness called : " Jasper, where can you 
 be?" 
 
 " Here Marcia, come in darling and see Mam- 
 my's room." 
 
 Sheba stood in the door smiling her broadest, and 
 saying, " Right hyah Mis Fai'fax." 
 
 But there was no smile on the face of the mistress. 
 She brushed past Sheba, and looking very sedate she 
 said : " Now I am astonished. I had no idea that 
 Southern gentlemen were in the habit of passing their 
 time in the rooms of the servants." 
 
 Fairfax's face clouded, and Sheba looked half in- 
 dignant, half ready to cry. For an instant all were 
 silent. Then Sheba mumbled something about 
 Sally and the dinner and left the room. Fairfax 
 made no movement to rise, but he drew a low chair 
 close to his own saying : " Excuse my rudeness, dear, 
 I'm so comfortable. Sit here a little while." 
 
 " It seems to me you'd be more comfortable in your 
 own room or in the parlor or library." 
 
 " I've had those rooms so long, and I always visit 
 Mammy here. I think this is one of the cosiest nooks 
 I ever saw."
 
 68 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " Well, I must confess my astonishment at your 
 taste, as well as your judgment. The servants will 
 have no respect for you if you treat them as your 
 equals." 
 
 " But, my dear, I don't treat them as my equals. 
 I couldn't;" then pausing a moment, "The fact is I 
 never once thought of it at all. We've always lived 
 together and we understand each other." 
 
 " Yes, I think they understand that they may do as 
 little work as they please, and in the most slip-shod 
 manner. Some energetic Northern man would get 
 twice as much work done as you do." 
 
 " Possibly, but I'm afraid your energetic Northern 
 man would find himself a fit subject for the agitators. 
 Then too, darkies are easly tempted to run away. Up 
 to date, Fairfax Farms have never produced a run- 
 away slave." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax laughed, but she drew down the 
 corners of her mouth, as if she frowned on that part 
 of her face. 
 
 " I see no reason why the slaves should run away 
 if all of your name have treated them as you do. It 
 seems to me the masters would be more likely to 
 leave the farms." 
 
 Fairfax laughed. " My dear, you surprise me. 
 Here is all this great country seething in war because 
 we Southerners have trafficked in flesh and blood that 
 walks on two feet. We've been called Nigger 
 drivers. Northern people have said we'd murder a 
 darkey at the crook of a finger. Now here is a 
 gentle, fair-faced girl from the north, with a bewilder- 
 ing mass of flaxen hair and eyes like gentians lectur-
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 69 
 
 ing her month-old rebel husband for undue in- 
 dulgence of these same blacks." 
 
 "Oh my dear, I don't expect you to be cruel; but 
 they are lazy and idle. I cannot see how the work is 
 ever done either indoors or out." 
 
 " You'll see by and by. There are so many of them 
 there's no need of hurry. You'll find too, they are 
 the most affectionate creatures under the sun." 
 
 " Yes, I see they are very fond of you. They 
 really make me jealous," and Mrs. Fairfax laughed 
 and colored. 
 
 " They'll be just as fond of you if you'll only allow 
 them to love you and take care of you." 
 
 " I'm afraid I'm not the kind of woman for ser- 
 vants to love. I believe," and Mrs. Fairfax laughed 
 and looked at her husband interrogatively, " that if 
 I'm left here in charge you'll find a different state of 
 affairs when you next come home." 
 
 " Now darling," and he smoothed her bright hair 
 with his left hand, " I wish you would just be idle and 
 happy as you can be when I go away. Leave every- 
 thing to Mammy. She's had the house ever since 
 my mother died." 
 
 " But dear, what shall I do to pass the time? " 
 
 " Write letters to me; keep your eyes bright; your 
 whole sweet self pretty; that's all."
 
 7 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Time sped happily, and all too swiftly until the day 
 came when the master of Fairfax Farms in his uni- 
 form of gray said goodbye to clinging wife and sob- 
 bing slaves. The promise of as many letters as he 
 could possibly send home in the demoralized state 
 of the country was a comfort to Sheba. She said so 
 as she turned from the door after watching him out 
 of sight. Mrs. Fairfax answered her: 
 
 " I think, Sheba if you attend to your work you'll 
 have no time to spare for lamenting over Mr. Fair- 
 fax. This house is in a dreadfully filthy state. I'm 
 going to have it thoroughly cleaned from garret to 
 cellar. Many of the rooms need papering. All the 
 wood-work needs a dressing of oil. I don't believe 
 one of the carpets have been cleaned in a year." 
 
 "Oh yas, Mis Fai'fax, all de cya'pets was done tuk 
 up des befo' Mas' Jaspa was ma'a'id " 
 
 "What, only a few weeks ago?" Mrs. Fairfax 
 questioned sharply. 
 
 "Oh nome. Jes befo' Mas' Jaspa an' Miss 
 Adelaide" 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax interrupted with an impatient wave 
 of her hand and a frown: 
 
 "There Sheba, that's enough. I never want to 
 hear Miss Adelaide's name mentioned again. We'll 
 go on with the cleaning next week." 
 
 Such hurrying and scouring and scrubbing and 
 rubbing and dusting and managing had never been
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 7 1 
 
 seen at the Fairfax house before. There was no 
 minute of rest all day long. Even the children were 
 pressed into the service and taught the use of broom 
 and brush. The new mistress, whose blonde head 
 was in such striking contrast with those of her 
 helpers, seemed to be ubiquitous. If an easy-going, 
 easily wearied scrub woman stopped to suckle her 
 baby, there over her shoulder stood Mrs. Fairfax 
 saying: 
 
 " You ought to wean that child. A cup of milk 
 would be just as good for him, and you'd waste no 
 time nursing him." 
 
 The carpet beaters might suppose their mistress 
 was superintending the washing of the bed room 
 windows on the second floor ; but if their long willow 
 switches stopped while they mopped their faces with 
 their sleeves her voice sounded at their elbows : "Now 
 turn it and beat the other side." 
 
 When the mail was brought it was useless for any 
 one to pause with the idea that the seal of the master's 
 letters would be hurriedly broken and the contents 
 read aloud. The first thing usually done was a 
 review of the workers to see what each one was doing, 
 and tell them what to do next ; then would Mrs. Fair- 
 fax read her husband's letters for herself alone. The 
 hungry eyes that followed her were unanswered. 
 Once Sheba ventured to say : " I hope Mas' Jaspa's 
 well? " and her mistress surveyed her from head to 
 foot as she answered: " Certainly he's well; have you 
 nothing to do?" 
 
 So it came to pass, that, whether Fairfax had news 
 of the state of affairs at home, or guessed it because 
 of no news, he wrote long kindly, affectionate letters
 
 72 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 to Sheba and sent them under cover to Simmons; 
 and the loving old woman was happy. 
 
 When the house was finished, Mrs. Fairfax turned 
 her attention to the farms. She sent for Simmons to 
 talk matters over with him. To her questions and 
 suggestions he answered that he had managed the 
 place so long according to his own ideas, subject, of 
 course to his employer's opinions, that he " reckoned 
 he'd better keep on in the old way, particularly as 
 she was not a farmer, either by practice or theory." 
 
 She admitted that she knew nothing about the 
 cultivation of land, but she could see when the fences 
 needed mending, and certainly he knew that many of 
 the fences were broken and ragged. 
 
 Simmons admitted the truth of this but he thought 
 they would better wait and talk to Captain, (Fairfax 
 was always Captain now), about it. He had thought 
 of replacing the wooden fences with hedges, wire, 
 or low walls built of stone from the river, but, the war 
 had disarranged their plans and nothing had been 
 done for the last year but patch up the old board or 
 rail fences. 
 
 " Then," Mrs. Fairfax said, brightening " if stone 
 fences have been talked of why not go to work at 
 once? They will cost really nothing. The men are 
 idle more than half the time. That old ruined house, 
 if torn down would build a mile of fence. It's an eye- 
 sore to me, and it keeps the blacks in a constant 
 ferment. I think I'll have a force of men at work 
 there at once." 
 
 " But, Mrs. Fairfax," Simmons remonstrated, 
 " I'm sure the Captain wouldn't approve of having 
 his Aunt Agnes' house torn away."
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 73 
 
 " I'm sure I can't see why. It's of no use, it's ugly, 
 and the land all about it might be cultivated." 
 
 " It's all just as people happen to think about such 
 things. I, as manager of Fairfax Farms won't allow 
 one stone to be taken from those walls without the 
 Captain's orders." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax's face flushed. "Very well. I wish, 
 then, you would write Captain Fairfax at once in 
 regard to the matter. I will do so too. Those old 
 tumble-down walls are both disgraceful and 
 dangerous." 
 
 In due time, Simmons came to the house and asked 
 for the mistress. He stood at the door, and told her 
 he had heard from Captain Fairfax in regard to pull- 
 ing down the ruin. 
 
 " Will you read his letter? " he asked. 
 
 " No thank you," she answered frigidly. "Captain 
 Fairfax has very strange tastes," and she disappeared 
 up the stairs. 
 
 " By George I think so myself," Simmons said to 
 Roberts when he related the remark. 
 
 " Tell you what," Roberts said, " Salome with her 
 dash of black blood was more of a lady." 
 
 "Oh Lord yes! She was trained to it. Trouble 
 with this one is, put a beggar on horse-back, you 
 know where he rides." 
 
 " Well, I wish Captain could be at home a while, 
 to kinder set his foot down on some of the goings-on. 
 Between the madam an' the war first thing we know 
 every darkey'll leave the place." 
 
 No, I think not. Some few may go, but all I've 
 to say is, they're welcome to all they'll get out of 
 Northern folks, 'ceptin' talk. We've got a sample of 
 it right here."
 
 74 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The summer days lengthened, and yet no sign or 
 omen of peace. Sheba was sure that it was only a 
 matter of time until " Mas' Jaspa done sen' all deni 
 Yanks totin home 'bout da' own business." When 
 the news was told her of the coming emancipation of 
 her race from slavery, she was almost fierce in her 
 disbelief. What could she or any of them do with 
 freedom? Would freedom give them cabins to live 
 in, plant the truck patch, supply them with meal, 
 bacon, tobacco and print dresses? She cared nothing 
 for " w'at dat man Lincum say. Mas Jaspa'd neva 
 tu'n 'is ole Mammy out to die. No Fai'fax eva done 
 dat." 
 
 The great day was drawing near. Only a week 
 or two now until, as Simmons said : " The country'll 
 be full of wandering irresponsible black vagabonds. 
 Only hope the Northern fanatics will get a good taste 
 of black labor with nothing to regulate it but the 
 whim of the laborer. A free nigger won't work if 
 he can steal." 
 
 The war news came from Fredricksburg. It was 
 a glorious victory for the Confederates. But, other 
 news came that blanched the cheek of the young 
 wife, and dropped Sheba into her chair moaning. It 
 was a telegram from young Dr. Dome : " Meet us at 
 station with a cot. Colonel Fairfax wounded." 
 
 "Oh! Colonel Fairfax! " was the exclamation of the
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 75 
 
 wife. " There's some mistake or, perhaps he's been 
 promoted." 
 
 " That's it, you may be sure," Simmons said con- 
 fidently, " He aint the man to be only a captain for 
 very long." 
 
 "An' dem low down Yanks done hu't my boy agin! 
 Oh ef I on'y had 'em I'd make 'em tote demse'fs back 
 home," and Mammy, overjoyed at the prospect of 
 again seeing her master, grieved and would not be 
 comforted until she had him wholly in her possession, 
 and was assured by him that his wounds were not at 
 all serious ; that it was all owing to Henry Dome that 
 the cot was sent for. It was the first time Dome had 
 ever had him down and he meant to make the most of 
 it. Mammy would remember how they used to 
 wrestle when they were boys, and, Henry was always 
 thrown. Now, with the help of the Yankees he had 
 got him down. There were no bones broken. He 
 would not be lame. He might, to please Henry, use 
 a cane for a short time, that was all. 
 
 For a day or two the house wore a festive air be- 
 cause the master was at home. Preparations were 
 going forward for Christmas, and everyone was busy. 
 
 Then Fairfax thought he detected a new, strange 
 and a not quite agreeable air about the house. He 
 waited, thinking it might blow away, or explain it- 
 self. There seemed to be no trouble between 
 Mrs. Fairfax and the slaves, no open trouble any- 
 where. Whenever he had an opportunity he spoke 
 to those about him inquiring about their welfare, and 
 mentioning their families. He was answered, but 
 not with the old-time heartiness. Even the children 
 looked at him furtively, reproachfully. He would
 
 76 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 not speak to Mrs. Fairfax about it, nor to Sheba. The 
 manner of kind old Mammy was the hardest to bear 
 of all. Sometimes she lingered about him after every- 
 thing had been done that the most zealous and skill- 
 ful nurse could do, then, with a sigh, and with tears 
 ready to fall she would hurry away. Simmons, in 
 answer to inquiries as to the effect the coming eman- 
 cipation would have on the men, only said he thought 
 they would all stay, at least for a time. He would not 
 give the faintest hint of the real disturbing element. 
 
 The revelation of the fears of the slaves came at 
 last through two half grown boys. They had been 
 sent to the hills across the river to gather laurel and 
 other greens to make the house gay for Christmas. 
 On returning, they laid their spoils on the veranda, 
 and sprawled in the sun beside them. Just within 
 the open window lay their wounded master. He had 
 insisted that his cot be placed where the sun would fall 
 on him, and he be left alone for a while. He was sure 
 eveybody was tired. He would read, or doze. So 
 then, the boys talked, and only a few feet away there 
 was a listener who smiled broadly and came near 
 laughing out-right. 
 
 " Wondeh how Mas' Fai'fax'll take keer o his-se'f 
 w'en we-uns's all done chased away." 
 
 " W'y, de Lincum folks'll come an' take keer o* 
 him. I jes wondeh how we-uns'll done take keer of 
 ou' sefs." 
 
 " I dun'no'. I'd neva b'lieved Mas' Fai'fax a driv' 
 we-uns all out. Mammy Sheba say she won't go." 
 
 " Yas an' den Mas Fai'fax'll jes tak 'is sword an' 
 chase 'er out, lak Vs ben stickin dem Yanks. I'se 
 jes gwine to tote myse'f off jes de minit Mas Fai'fax
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 77 
 
 says " Yo' niggas git out o' hyah! Youens go an' 
 wo'k fo' Lincum." 
 
 Fairfax could scarcely believe his senses. Was this 
 the understanding the slaves had of the Emancipa- 
 tion Act? The boys picked up their branches and 
 loitered away with them. 
 
 "Ah well," the master sighed, and then he laughed. 
 " Some are born free, some achieve freedom, and 
 some have freedom thrust upon them. Like anything 
 else that comes as an alien gift, without price, it's a 
 misfit. In the calendar of fate there are no bargain 
 days. The gods never cut prices." 
 
 Bye and bye, Mrs. Fairfax came in softly. She 
 thought her patient might be asleep. She was de- 
 lighted to find him awake and looking rested and 
 cheerful. She knelt beside the cot and told him how 
 handsome he was and how fine his new title sounded. 
 She was most impatient to see him up and in his new 
 uniform. 
 
 Then Sheba came with his lunch, and she spread a 
 little table and husband and wife had a cozy meal to- 
 gether. When Sheba came to clear away the things 
 her master said: 
 
 " Mammy, I wish you'd hunt up that old wheel- 
 chair, and have Tim and Zack come and help me out 
 on the veranda this evening when the sun gets round 
 west. I want to see all the folks. I've something to 
 say to them." 
 
 " Laws Mas Jaspa, youens aint well enough to talk 
 to dat passle o' niggas. Hopes yo' aint gwine fo' to 
 sen' weuns off fo' Lincum done said yo' must? " 
 
 The old woman looked at him from where she 
 stood with such reproachful eyes that Fairfax began
 
 78 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 to feel hysterical. Mrs. Fairfax was about to send 
 Sheba out of the room, but he raised himself on his 
 elbow: " Come here Mammy, you make me feel as I 
 used to when I was a little fellow and had been bad. 
 What in the world would this house do without you? 
 If my own mother was living to-day I'd as soon think 
 of sending her away as you. There, now, don't cry, 
 I'll be good," and Fairfax playfully patted his nurse's 
 turbaned head as she knelt beside his cot. He 
 laughed, but tears were brimming in his eyes. 
 
 " Now go and find the chair. I want to talk to 
 all the folks, and have them understand all about this 
 new order of things." 
 
 A few hours later, partially dressed, his wounded 
 leg well muffled in blankets, Colonel Fairfax was 
 wheeled out to meet his slaves. It was a mild day, 
 even for the time of year and the locality. There 
 was no hint of frost in the air, and the blacks stood, 
 coatless and hatless. All were there, men, women 
 and children, over two hundred of them. Some of 
 them were defiant, some sad, a few hopeful, the rest, 
 old, gray uncles and aunties resigned and obedient. 
 If Mas' Fai'fax said go, then go they must and would 
 without grumbling. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax hovered round her husband, adjusting 
 his wraps, almost purring, so soft and kittenish were 
 her movements. Sheba stood near, half reassured, 
 but still tearful and despondent. 
 
 " Come back here, Tim," the master called after 
 the big fellow as he slouched down the steps. " I 
 can't talk to you folks in this chair. Come and let 
 me lean on you."
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 79 
 
 Tim was by his side instantly and a half dozen 
 others were ready to help him from his chair. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax remonstrated, almost tearfully, but, 
 to no purpose. Big Tim, a half head taller than his 
 master stood there and supported him as easily as his 
 mistress might have held a two-years-old baby. 
 
 " There, that's all right. You don't find me too 
 heavy? " 
 
 " Lawd no, Mas Co'nel." 
 
 " You black rascal ! I wonder what I'll do when 
 you're gone." 
 
 " Dat's so Mas Co'nel, I s'pects none dese boys 
 caint holp youens lak I kin." 
 
 " We'll see if we can't arrange for some of you to 
 stay. That's what I want to say to you." 
 
 Then he raised his voice so as to be heard by all : 
 
 " It will be but a few days now until all of you will 
 be free. You know what that means. You need 
 not then ask permission of Simmons nor Roberts, 
 nor even of me to leave the place. You can go away 
 whenever you please, and stay as long as you please." 
 
 " But Mas. Jaspa," asked a stalwart field hand from 
 the midst of the group, " Wen weuns git raidy fo' to 
 come back kin weuns go into de same cabin? " 
 
 " I rather think not," Fairfax answered hesitat- 
 ingly. " You know that as free men, you'll work for 
 wages and have cabins that you will buy or pay rent 
 for. When you leave your cabin, and quit work, of 
 course some other man must take it and your work." 
 
 "Oh des lak po' w'ite trash! " sneered a tall, coal- 
 black woman with a baby on her arm. " Wall Sim, 
 weuns mote des as wall go an' fling ou'sefs in de 
 ribber."
 
 8o Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " No, don't do that Beck," the master said laugh- 
 ing. " Listen now, and I'll tell you what may be 
 done. You know, every one of you whether or not 
 you want to stay here. You know, all of you, whether 
 or not I have treated you unkindly. You who are 
 middle-aged can say if my father was or was not a 
 good master. You who are gray can bear witness as 
 to my grandfather." 
 
 A murmur of assent ran through the crowd, and 
 the old men and women fell to weeping. 
 
 " Now listen. I must get through quickly. I'm 
 tired and so is Tim." 
 
 But Tim protested: " Fo' Gaud, Mas' Fai'fax I 
 could done hole onto to youens tel de jedgment an' 
 not be tiad." 
 
 " I have only to say now, that if any of you feel that 
 you have been over-worked, or under-fed, or in any 
 way badly treated by me or by my father or by my 
 grandfather, say so now. Then, go to your cabins, 
 and work no more for me, nor for any one, as long as 
 I own a foot of land or have a dollar in my pocket." 
 
 "Oh Mas' Fai'fax!" "Oh good Lawd Mas' 
 Jaspa!" "Des heah dat boy!" were some of the 
 exclamations from the laughing, weeping blacks. 
 
 " Now listen again. You know all about the work 
 that must be done here. You know what will happen 
 if it isn't done. There will be no crops and the land 
 will soon go to ruin. As many of you as want to 
 stay, can do so. Simmons and Roberts will stay too, 
 as managers; not overseers any more if you don't 
 like the name. You will have your cabins to live in, 
 your truck patch, and your wages every Saturday 
 noon. You'll go with your money and buy your
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 81 
 
 meal and bacon instead of getting them from Mammy 
 at the store house. Same way about your clothes." 
 
 " How 'bout bacca, Mas' Jaspa? " an old hobbling 
 negro asked timidly. 
 
 Fairfax laughed: "Oh uncle Jake you'll have 
 plenty of money for tobacco." 
 
 "I des wants fo' to ax youens one ting Mas' Fai'- 
 fax/'and a middle-aged man stepped to the front, hat 
 in hand. 
 
 " Yes, Dave, what is it? " 
 
 The man's face was pleasant, his voice was low 
 and musical. His shirt was open at the throat and 
 his sleeves were turned up from his wrists. He was 
 a symmetrical figure, all bone and muscle. He was 
 black and glossy as ebony. 
 
 I des wants to know Mas Jaspa, ef youens minds 
 dat man dat offe'd yo' fifteen hund'ed dolla's fo' me 
 las' yeah." 
 
 " Yes Dave, I remember." 
 
 " Well den, aint I done worf's much now es I was 
 den?" 
 
 " Why Dave, you're worth your weight in these 
 damned shin plasters that the people at Washington 
 tell us are money. You were worth it then and you're 
 worth it now." 
 
 " Den I wants to know, Mas Fai'fax w'at youens 
 gwine fo' to git fo' all wcuns w'en Lincum done tak 
 weuns way f'om youens? " 
 
 " You see Dave, Mr. Lincoln and other men in the 
 north think I've no right to you black folks; so they 
 are going to take you away and make free men and 
 women of you. They say it's wicked for us to live as 
 we've been living."
 
 82 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 "Am Mas' Lincum gwine fo' to take all de bosses 
 an' de cows? " 
 
 " No Dave, nothing of that kind." 
 
 " Tak yo' wife? " - 
 
 Fairfax laughed and his face flushed as he turned 
 to look at his wife who stood close beside him and 
 made believe that she was helping Tim. 
 
 " I reckon not, sweetheart. No Dave, one wife de- 
 serted me for the North, but it was not this one." 
 
 " Mean low down w'ite trash," Dave muttered. 
 
 Sheba was standing near her master's chair with 
 bare arms akimbo. 
 
 " I kaint see how Miss Adelaide eva done dese'ted 
 youens." 
 
 "Ah Mammy," and Fairfax rested his hand on her 
 broad shoulder, " all women are not as much in love 
 with your boy as you are. But, I hope you and I 
 are not to be separated? " 
 
 She turned quickly, clinging to his hand with both 
 her own: "Oh Mas' Jaspa, it done broke my po' ole 
 brack hea't w'en dey done tole me yo' gwine fo to 
 sen' weuns off. Wat would yo' po' deah dead daddy 
 an' mammy a said? I done tole dese igeram niggahs 
 I'se not gwine fo' to go. An' I tole po' Mis Fai'fax, 
 yo' ma so. Wat was dat she done tole me las' ting 
 w'en she lay dyin'? She des holt onto me, an' say, 
 Sheba, tak' keer o' my lil boy, an' haint I done it Mas' 
 Jaspa? Ef I haint, I'se des raidy to hev my po' ole 
 haid chopped clean off, an' I'll go an' tell yo' ma I 
 done all de best I kin." 
 
 "Oh but, Mammy you have taken care of me! " 
 and Fairfax dropped into his chair. His old nurse 
 crouched at his feet and leaned her head on his knees.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 83 
 
 " I remember when my dear young mother died. 
 There was no one to comfort my father and me but 
 you Mammy. You've always been the one for me to 
 look to when I've been sad or glad, and you've never 
 failed me Mammy. I don't see how I ever could get 
 on without you. Whatever the rest do I think you 
 must stay and take care of Marcia and the place for 
 me till the war is over. 
 
 "And now boys," turning to the waiting slaves, I 
 think we understand each other. Go to your suppers. 
 We'll have one more Christmas together; as good a 
 Christmas as Fairfax Farms ever saw. God knows 
 where we'll all be next year. Tim, your mistress 
 thinks she can put me back in the house, but, prob- 
 ably you'd better do it ;" and there was a great chorus 
 of laughing in all keys at the master's joke.
 
 84 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 That Christmas and New Year time was a happy 
 one at Fairfax Farms. The master was at home 
 and so nearly well of his wounds that one regret per- 
 vaded the place and tempered the gladness : He must 
 soon go away. True he walked very slowly and 
 used a cane, but Mammy insisted that this was " on'y 
 to pac'fy dat meddlin' Henry," She knew too, that 
 this going away would be his last. Very soon now 
 he would "chase all dem pesky Yanks back whah dey 
 b'long. Den he'd be home fo' good." 
 
 On the first day of the year, there was a grand feast 
 for the black Citizens. Nothing was spared. Most 
 of all there were good wishes and vows of perpetual 
 loyalty exchanged between master and men. It was 
 a day many times talked of during the next two 
 gloomy years. 
 
 It was in the mild days of the first of February 
 
 ' when Colonel Fairfax rejoined the army. The work 
 
 on the farms was managed as usual, but the new 
 
 citizens needed much help in the way of advice in 
 
 using their earnings. 
 
 The spring came with its promises; the long days 
 of summer smiled over fields where waved billowy 
 grass, golden wheat and giant corn, and over other 
 fields where cannon roared and where the sharp con- 
 tinuous rattle of the Winchester sent up clouds of 
 smoke, incense to the insatiable god of war; and
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 85 
 
 where men lay dying with faces turned to the sky or 
 buried in the blood-soaked earth. 
 
 There was no new thing under the sun. There 
 were only " battle and murder and sudden death." 
 
 Women sat in their homes waiting, listening, gaz- 
 ing afar with eyes dim with the pathos of an infinite 
 patience, their hair whitening day by day. 
 
 The looms that wove crape kept up their droning 
 from morning till night, and from night till morning 
 phantoms plied the shuttles and kept the spindles 
 turning. 
 
 In the Fairfax house, as this year, opening with so 
 much good feeling grew apace, discontent grew 
 with it. The mistress, always exacting, was now 
 tyrannical, as she saw her liberal allowance for indoor 
 help dwindling away with so little work accomplished 
 in exchange. There were grumblings and threat- 
 enings, but, so great was the fear of " Lincum's 
 sojers " not one of the women left the house. Sheba 
 counselled patience. 
 
 " Des wait," she would say, " Des wait. Long in 
 de fall it'll be all right. Mis Fai'fax'll hev somefin 
 elts to tink 'bout den, an' she'll be mos' usen to 
 weuns. Youens des 'have yo'se'fs, an' see if Mammy 
 aint right." 
 
 It came to pass as Sheba had prophecied. "Along 
 in the fall " a little girl baby came to keep Mrs. Fair- 
 fax dependent and helpless for a while and smoothe 
 away hard thoughts from the minds of her servants. 
 At first the little one seemed bound to be but one 
 more element of discord. The expectant mother 
 made inquiries of Doctor Dome pere, in regard to a 
 nurse.
 
 86 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 "Why, bless your heart, Mrs. Fairfax, where's 
 Sheba? " 
 
 " But I must have a white nurse." 
 
 " My dear madam, I've no idea where you'd find 
 a white nurse. I never saw one south of Mason and 
 Dixon's line." 
 
 " Couldn't one be sent for? " 
 
 Doctor Dome smiled and shook his head. 
 
 " If you care to try ; you know the state of the 
 country; the women in the North find something 
 great and grand in braving the possibilities of long 
 marches, starvation, insults from vagabonds of both 
 sections, and a hundred nameless evils for the sake of 
 the boys in blue. But, this matter of yours is an old 
 story. If you know a white nurse who is personally 
 devoted to you, it would be pleasant to have her." 
 
 "I don't know any of any kind." 
 
 " Well, there's no better nurse in the state of Ken- 
 tucky nor out of it, than Sheba." 
 
 " But she's wholly uneducated. She doesn't even 
 read." 
 
 " So much the better. She has no theories of her 
 own. She's obedient to the orders of her superior 
 officer the physician in charge, and to the symptoms 
 of her patient. She's had no books to destroy her 
 instinct." 
 
 When the baby came Doctor Dome installed Sheba 
 as nurse for mother and child as she had been for the 
 little one's father and grandmother. Further, the 
 doctor enacting the role of the greatest tyrant of his 
 tyrannical class, declared that Mrs. Fairfax must not 
 only yield him unquestioning obedience, but that she
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 87 
 
 must not dispute Sheba's care by so much as the 
 movement of an eye-lash. 
 
 There was great regret in the quarters when Sheba 
 reported the arrival of a plump little daughter. The 
 general exclamation was: " Sech a pity! It caint be 
 named Jaspa! " When Sheba told her mistress of 
 this, she was greatly astonished to see Mrs. Fairfax 
 fondle the tiny hands and, then, without lifting her 
 eyes say gently: 
 
 " Mama's wee girl can't have her father's name, 
 but she can be named for the beautiful grandmother 
 down in the parlor. Her name will be Zoe." 
 
 So in due time came Dr. Ballantyne and his sweet- 
 faced wife. Doctor Dome and his wife and a few 
 other friends to see the little daughter of the house of 
 Fairfax christened Zoe Westlake. The wide fire- 
 places were heaped with blazing logs making the air 
 like summer. The mellow October sunshine poured 
 in at the long windows and idealized all that it 
 touched. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax had not disdained the services of big 
 Tim, but laughingly allowed him to carry her from 
 her room and place her in her invalid's chair near the 
 fire. She looked all sweet, gentle womanliness in her 
 soft lace-trimmed gown. There was a shimmer of 
 pink on her cheeks, and Sheba said to the doctor; 
 " Ef Mas Jaspa on'y see Missy now, he'd know who 
 done tuk ca' o' huh." 
 
 " Yes indeed Sheba, you and I beat the world." 
 
 All the blacks were crowded into the halls, the door 
 ways, and the lower end of the long parlors. When 
 everything was in readiness, Sheba came in with the
 
 88 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 baby, clothed in the baptismal robe of costly lace that 
 had done duty for its father and its grandfather. 
 
 After the baptismal service Dr. Ballantyne read the 
 prayer to be used "in time of war and tumults." 
 There had been no word in the simple ceremony 
 about the absent father, but now there were sobs 
 from the servants, and tears filled the eyes of their 
 mistress. 
 
 For weeks and months the people of Fairfax Farms 
 had followed with the patience and hope born of the 
 times, the movements of Lee's army. Wherever Lee 
 was, there was the master. The letters that came 
 were loving, hopeful, inspiring. Those to Sheba 
 were full of the kindliest thoughts for the faithful 
 servant, and of exhortations in regard to his wife. 
 " I know you'll be kind to my dear girl, Mammy. 
 You are so patient, so reasonable. You were always 
 so good to me. When I, almost a baby, had no 
 mother, what would have become of me if it hadn't 
 been for you Mammy? My darling wife is young. 
 She knows nothing of home life. I know if you have 
 the care of her she will be well and strong in due time. 
 Then, what a happy coming home there will be for 
 me when this cruel war is over." 
 
 There was " no possibility now of a furlough," he 
 wrote his wife, " excepting a Yankee bullet or 
 bayonet earns me one; but, I believe your prayers 
 are shielding me. In the thickest of battles, nothing 
 touches me. My brave men fall around me like flies 
 when the frost comes; I go unscathed. For your 
 sake, dear, and for our precious little daughter I am 
 glad this is so. But, what a land of mourning is my 
 beloved South! What wailing there must be too in
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 89 
 
 the states that forced this quarrel upon us! Be 
 patient and brave darling. Teach the little one to 
 know my face. God knows if ever she will see more 
 than the pictures you have. Tell me how she looks. 
 Has she your blue blue eyes, or are they the Fairfax 
 gray? In either case they are most precious; the blue 
 for her sweet mother's sake, the grey for the uniform 
 I wear." 
 
 After this letter, when Zoe was but a few weeks old 
 there was silence. What it meant could be partially 
 guessed by the news that a part of Lee's army had 
 been captured by Meade on the Rappahannock. 
 After weeks of suspense came a long delayed letter 
 from a hospital attendant. Colonel Fairfax was 
 seriously wounded and a prisoner. Then silence 
 again for weeks. 
 
 In this time of sorrow Mrs. Fairfax learned to 
 know her nurse, and through her, the rest of the serv- 
 ants. As she lay sleepless through the long nights, 
 it was Sheba's hands that passed over her hair and 
 about her shoulders with the touch one uses when 
 soothing a troubled child. It was Sheba who would 
 not allow her to give way to her fears because it would 
 make " de deah HI baby sick." It was Sheba who 
 knelt by her bed and asked " de deah Lawd to sen' 
 home Mas' Jaspa, even ef he had to kill all dem Yanks 
 an' all de niggahs." For herself she was " done raidy 
 fo' to go ef 'e wanted huh. Jes sen' 'long de chayot, 
 but please Lawd don' fo'git to sen' somebody to tek 
 ca' o' Missy an' de HI baby." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax all unused to such childish confidence 
 in prayer and such unswerving devotion to the master 
 and his family, learned many lessons while in her
 
 9O Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 semi-Invalid condition with this terrible uncertainty, 
 like a great cloud upon her. After many weeks of 
 suspense, there came a letter from Colonel Fairfax 
 himself. He was but just able to write, and still a 
 prisoner. After this, letters were frequent, but, would 
 he never be free? It was months before there was a 
 possibility of an exchange, then, one day Dave had 
 been to Bellaire and somebody there had a telegram. 
 There had been an exchange of prisoners. He came 
 up the drive waving his hat and shouting. It was 
 about noon. The quarters were full of the field hands 
 at dinner. They poured out and swarmed up about 
 the house. Mrs. Fairfax came out with Zoe in her 
 arms. Dave caught the baby, and setting her on his 
 shoulder danced and capered about while he told her 
 that her " Daddy done kick down dat Yankee jail an' 
 'e was out wid 'is sword an' 'is gun an' 'is bay'net des 
 stickin' dem Yanks til dey squeel." 
 
 Zoe clapped her hands and laughed because of the 
 noise, and she was voted " Daddy's own HI gal. Co'se 
 she knows w'at weuns say." 
 
 Then came news of battles, fierce and long. Two 
 horrible days in the Wilderness, and a few days later 
 the carnival of death at Spottsylvania. All through 
 the year there was only waiting for war news, and 
 then weeping and mourning afterwards. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax, growing more in sympathy with her 
 servants through their devotion to her husband and 
 their love for her baby for its father's sake, found there 
 was one point upon which they could agree. This 
 was the garnering of everything that the farms 
 produced most carefully, doleing out the very smal- 
 lest possible quantity for home necessities, and send-
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 9! 
 
 ing all the surplus directly to Colonel Fairfax, to be 
 distributed as he saw fit. There was no thought of 
 barter or sale. When Simmons mentioned the 
 enormous prices that might be obtained his mistress 
 answered: "I cannot do that. My husband's cause 
 is mine. His people are my people. If he comes 
 home, no matter how the war ends, I want no long 
 purse to give him, no fine dresses and jewels to flaunt 
 in his eyes and say, 'here is this price of our country's 
 necessities.' If he doesn't come home we can feel 
 that we did all we could to help him." 
 
 Then Simmons said to his son-in-law; "By George 
 the Madam aint such a mud-sill after all." 
 
 Such rigid economy as was practiced had never 
 been dreamed of on Fairfax Farms. But, there was 
 no grumbling about it. When Mrs. Fairfax gave 
 orders for her own frugal meals, no better than they 
 had in the quarters, and Sally looked her remon- 
 strance, the answer was : " I hope Sally that the 
 master and his brave men have as good and enough 
 of it." 
 
 One day Mrs. Fairfax was attracted to the door by 
 the laughter and shouting of the black children on 
 the veranda. They had little Zoe in their midst on a 
 gay blanket spread on the floor. The children were 
 squatted or sprawled all around her, and one of them 
 had given her a piece of hoe cake. Baby fashion she 
 filled her mouth with it. Then seeing her crowd of 
 attendants laugh and shout and clap their hands, she 
 laughed too, and crowed and sputtered and rolled 
 over and over. Her mother caught her up and cares- 
 sed her rapturously. " She's papa's own little darling!
 
 92 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 She can eat hoe cake as well as mama and all the 
 rest!" 
 
 The autumn passed and the winter. When the 
 news came that Lee was in command of the Con- 
 federate army, then there were bon-fires and re- 
 joicings at Fairfax Farms. " Now Mas' Jaspa 
 would hev a fai' show. The wa' would soon be 
 ovah." So it was, but not in the way these devoted 
 servants expected. Disaster and defeat followed 
 each other thick and fast. The Cause for which 
 mountains of treasure had been lavished, for which 
 rivers of blood had been spilled, for which the light of 
 innumerable homes had been quenched, was lost 
 All along the lines of the tide of war the land was 
 enriched by the blood of patriots patriots, whether 
 they wore the blue or the gray. Whatever may be 
 the faults of the leaders, whatever may be the sins of 
 demagogues, whatever blunders of ambitious polit- 
 icians plunge a country into war, the rank and file of 
 armies, the men who leave their ploughs and work- 
 shops and send home badly spelled letters to wife or 
 sweetheart, these are the patriots; these die for the 
 cause they believe in. With them their country is 
 always right. These are the heroes.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 93 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 One fair day in June, after an absence of two and 
 one half years, Jasper Fairfax came home. What 
 changes had grown about him! But, he declared 
 that the most wonderful new element in his sur- 
 roundings was Baby Zoe. When she was put into 
 his arms the tears started in his eyes. 
 
 " How strange it is ! " he said. " While I was 
 away, though I remembered even in my dreams the 
 fair-haired girl who had kissed me good-bye and who 
 wrote me such bracing letters, yet, it never seemed a 
 reality that she was here to stay. Now here is an- 
 other pair of. blue eyes, smiling at me, and the little 
 miracle to whom they belong, calls me 'Papa,' with a 
 bashful, half doubtful air. Ah she's so sweet, and so 
 white and so like her mother! It's good to be home 
 again! Good to know the carnage is ended, even if 
 our Cause is lost. There are many scars of the war 
 that only time can efface, changes that it will require 
 generations to outgrow." 
 
 In this quiet out-of-the-way neighborhood there 
 were fewer changes than in parts of the South that 
 had been at the mercy of the soldiery, or where bat- 
 tles had been waged. Here farms showed that the 
 eye of the master had been withdrawn. Repairs 
 were needed, but there was no money. Nothing 
 could be 'done until after the harvesting of the 
 season's crops. It was a time of apathetic waiting. 
 
 Fairfax often recalled the remark of Dr. Henry
 
 94 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Dome as they met the first time after being 'mustered 
 out'. The eyes of the young surgeon were half 
 sad, half smiling as he slapped his friend's shoulder, 
 exclaming: " Colonel, we're out of a job." 
 
 The whole country was out of a job. " But," Fair- 
 fax would say to himself and others, " We made a 
 good fight. We'll be rebels now for all time. If we 
 had succeeded, we'd have been patriots. We had 
 the worst of the war by having the enemy within our 
 gates. The Northern states were not over-run as 
 ours were, their defenceless women were not sub- 
 jected to the indignities that ours were. But, we 
 peopled their graveyards, besides fertilizing many a 
 Southern spot with their dearest and best. They've 
 got our darkies, and first thing we know, I reckon 
 they'll make voters of them. I wish them joy." 
 
 After the stirring life of camp and field, Fairfax 
 felt that he could never go back to the dolce far niente 
 of ante bellum days. He might be undecided for a 
 time in finding where to pick up the lost threads of 
 civil life but, he would find them. He surveyed his 
 farms with Simmons, and talked over the matter of 
 improvements. Then, there were always Marcia and 
 Baby to be glad to see him in the house. There were 
 many things needing to be done, but, money, money, 
 nothing could be done without money, and there was 
 no money in the country. Somebody ought to make 
 a business of supplying money to their neighbors. 
 There was Tottenham's bank, but, After con- 
 sultations with farm neighbors and business and 
 professional friends in Bellaire, Fairfax concluded 
 that as soon as the matter could be arranged he would 
 go into banking. He said: "As a family man, it isn't
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 95 
 
 dignified to be idle. I've called myself a farmer, but, 
 Simmons takes the actualities off my hands, and I'm 
 willing. I have no profession, nor do I want one. 
 I'll try business, and I believe, after a time, I'll fit into 
 the harness. This one thing I'm determined upon: 
 Whoever is associated with me in banking must agree 
 to be satisfied with very ordinary salaries. Our loans 
 will be to old friends and neighbors. There will be 
 no fleecing." 
 
 It came to pass that the benevolent banking project 
 was nearer materialization than its most ardent sup- 
 porters dreamed. It was the close of a warm day in 
 August. A light breeze swept down from the hills 
 beyond the river bringing the odor of woods and 
 water with it, and it loitered over the levels. Fairfax 
 sat with his wife on the veranda. Near them Sheba 
 swung Zoe in a hammock and crooned a lullaby. 
 
 They heard the creak of the big gate, and then the 
 clatter of wheels on the drive. A light buggy car- 
 rying a tall, very blonde man and a black driver 
 stopped at the steps. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax, with the breathless exclamation: 
 "Why it's George!" flew down to meet them, and 
 was clasped in her brother's arms. 
 
 " The same pretty sister, after all these years," he 
 said as he held her at arm's length after the first 
 embrace. " You make me forget time entirely." 
 
 " Dear," she said turning to her husband who had 
 followed her, "this is brother of whom I told you, 
 and who we supposed killed and buried amongst the 
 unidentified at Mill Springs." 
 
 There was handshaking between the two men, 
 Fairfax giving a hearty welcome to the only relative
 
 96 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 his wife possessed, and Westlake eyeing his brother- 
 in-law from head to foot as he drawled: "Ah, Colonel, 
 glad to make your acquaintance." 
 
 " Where is your baggage? " Fairfax asked. 
 
 "At the Bellaire House. Just got in from 
 Washington two hours ago." 
 
 "Wouldn't you better send for it at once? Let 
 this trap go, and I'll send one of the boys. Is it in 
 shape to be brought? " 
 
 " I rather guess not. Lots of things are unpacked, 
 and I've no man now. 
 
 " Well perhaps we can supply you what you need 
 for the night. Send this fellow away. My wife's 
 brother must not stop at a tavern while we have a 
 roof. Away you go Scipio," and he waved the grin- 
 ning driver towards the gate. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax opened her eyes very wide. Where 
 had this long lost brother sprung from? and what 
 had he been doing that he was able to say with such 
 an air of accustomedness " I've no man now? " 
 
 They grouped themselves on the veranda. Mrs. 
 Fairfax, all impatience said, " There's only one thing 
 to be thought of now. Tell us what happened to you 
 at Mill Springs. It seemed as if the earth had opened 
 and swallowed you. Papa and I did everything 
 possible to find you. No one had seen you, living or 
 dead. We could only suppose you had been mangled 
 beyond recognition." 
 
 " You came very near the truth in your sup- 
 position. For a week after the fight, I knew nothing. 
 I came back to consciousness to find myself in the 
 cabin of a char-coal burner, nestled away in the 
 woods. There were five others that the fellow had
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 97 
 
 picked up and cared for as well as he could. I was 
 the only one very badly wounded, and when the boys 
 left me I could barely speak. I asked them to find 
 father, and you; but I guess they thought I'd soon be 
 dead. At least, I never heard from anybody, and I 
 lay there in that hut for nine weeks." 
 
 " With no other care than the char-coal burner's? " 
 Mrs. Fairfax asked. 
 
 " None. He gave me the best he could and, it 
 wasn't bad. He used plenty of water for my wounds. 
 Had one here on the back of my head that was the 
 most troublesome. No bones were broken excepting 
 in this arm," and he held up his left. " I've carried a 
 stiff elbow in memorian since then. 
 
 "As soon as I was able, I started on track of our 
 division. I soon found out what had happened father, 
 but you I had no trace of until a week ago. I sup- 
 posed that after father's death you would go to 
 Madison, and I wrote you there. I expected no 
 answer, as I was on my way to report to my Com- 
 pany. Of course I was discharged as unfit for ser- 
 vice. Then I went to Madison. No one there had 
 heard a word from you since you went away." 
 
 Westlake paused and laughed. " You always were 
 such a conscientious correspondent! Did she ever 
 write you any letters Colonel? " 
 
 " Yes indeed. Marcia was one of the most regular 
 correspondents I ever had." 
 
 " Well, I suppose it was so new to have a 
 husband. Nobody in Madison had ever heard a 
 word from her. I did everything I could to trace 
 you, and have kept a paragraph in one Madison, one
 
 98 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Louisville and one Cincinnati paper, all these years, 
 and at last found you by the merest accident." 
 
 " Yes? and how was it? " 
 
 "After my discharge, and a few weeks spent in 
 looking for you, I went into business." 
 
 " But, dear, how could you go into business? Papa 
 had no money, and you couldn't get a pension then?" 
 
 " No. You probably didn't know, neither did I 
 at the time, but Sipes of the Madison City bank 
 mentioned to me, incidentally, supposing that I did 
 know, that father had left a very snug little sum with 
 him just before joining the army. There was no 
 claimant for this that I could discover but myself. I 
 took possession, and now I'm ready to render you 
 your share of it with a good liberal interest." 
 
 Westlake laughed and winked at his sister. 
 
 "What was your business? Fairfax asked. 
 
 " Mules." 
 
 Again the sly laugh, and this time Fairfax was 
 given the wink, but Westlake dropped his eyes under 
 the answering gaze of his host. 
 
 " You see," he said apologetically, " about that 
 time you fellows here in the South were making 
 Uncle Sam dance to your own tunes. I begun to feel 
 that Lincoln and the rest had been mistaken, and, if 
 the country was going to the devil I might as well 
 feather my nest out of the Government as to let some 
 other fellow have the job." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax laughed nervously. She cast flitting 
 glances at her husband who smoked in silence but 
 with a hard look in his eyes that she knew meant dis- 
 approval of her brother. She spoke lightly as she 
 said:
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 99 
 
 " Make a clean confession now, George, tell us how 
 much money you made out of Uncle Sam in his days 
 of necessity." 
 
 " Not so very much, but, it will serve. I have, in 
 cold cash, where it can be handed out to me for the 
 asking, a trifle over," he lifted one finger, " six 
 figures." 
 
 Fairfax without turning his eyes asked: " Were 
 there many patriots of your kind in the North." 
 
 " Hundreds of them," Westlake answered briskly. 
 "All over the country you hear of the shoddy aris- 
 tocracy. This means the men who grew wealthy by 
 selling to the Government the cheap gummy clothing 
 that fell to pieces if it got wet. No men ever made 
 money faster than those who sold food supplies to the 
 Union Army. Others, like myself dealt in mules and 
 horses. It grew to be a great joke to put M. D. after 
 our names. It only meant mule dealer. The doctors 
 said it slandered them, but we've got the money we 
 can stand their grumblings, and the jokes of the rest." 
 
 " Just so," Fairfax grunted. "And now, since 
 that source of wealth is exhausted, what are you go- 
 ing to do? " 
 
 " I want to invest in something that's reasonably 
 safe, and will bring me a respectable living." 
 
 " There are many businesses that will do that if a 
 man understands. Have you had any business 
 training? " 
 
 " None excepting in mules. I was reading law at 
 the breaking out of the war. I want to put this lucre 
 where it will be piling up a little, and then I'll be in 
 mind to take up Blackstone again. I've an idea that 
 there are good places for money in the South."
 
 loo Jasper Fairfax* 
 
 Fairfax laughed dryly: "There are a good many 
 places where it's needed sorely." 
 
 " But George," Mrs. Fairfax said, " you were going 
 to say how you happened to find us. How was it? " 
 
 "Oh yes, I got myself side-tracked with my mules." 
 He laughed again, with a quick glance at Fairfax. 
 
 " I was finishing up some business with some 
 people in Washington the other day when a Captain 
 Fergus came in. I was introduced to him, and he 
 repeated my name as if remembering something. 
 Bye and bye he told me that one of the strangest 
 happenings he knew in the war, was in connection 
 with a tall blonde Northern girl named Westlake. It 
 was at Fort Donelson. Her father had been killed 
 there, her brother missing since some other fight. 
 The girl was searching through the hospitals; by 
 the way Fergus was wounded at the time. He saw 
 Miss Westlake sometime and some place recognize 
 as an old friend a Confederate officer, and after a few 
 days an army chaplain married the two, and they 
 went away together, the officer with his sword arm in 
 a sling. He remembered the Confederate's name 
 was Fairfax and he was a Kentuckian. He heard 
 him talked of by some of his men who were wounded 
 and prisoners. So there's the whole story." 
 
 "And isn't it strange too, that this man we never 
 heard of should have known and remembered our 
 strange courtship and marriage ! " and Mrs. Fairfax 
 slipped her hand into her husband's. 
 
 "Very strange. But many strange things hap- 
 pened in those dreadful times." 
 
 "And now dear, here is George, anxious to invest 
 his money, and here are you pining for sufficient cash
 
 Jasper Fairfax. loi 
 
 to go into banking for the sake of our needy neigh- 
 bors. What could be more fortunate? " 
 
 "You don't say so!" Westlake exclaimed. "Why, 
 when I inquired about you in Washington, and later 
 in Bellaire, I was told that you were one of the richest 
 and best known men in Kentucky." 
 
 " You see my wealth," and Fairfax waved his hands 
 outward. " I have these farms, but, while I was in the 
 army, your sister was not so provident as you were. 
 She hoarded no money. She kept in the graneries 
 and store-rooms barely enough for herself and her 
 managers and servants. All the rest of the produce 
 of these acres, God bless my wife, went to feed our 
 soldiers ; went as a gift." 
 
 "Why Marcia! Who would have dreamed of you 
 being such a good rebel ! " 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax laughed, but the laugh sounded 
 hysterical : " I did what I could, George, and, fortune 
 favors the brave. Now when we need money so 
 much, here you come with your heavy purse, and I 
 know you'll be glad to trust Jasper with it." 
 
 "Of course. That goes without saying. I'll be 
 awfully glad to get the business all settled. I've 
 loafed long enough. I'm tired of the odor of mules, 
 I want to smell sheep-skin for a while."
 
 IO2 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Nowhere in the South was the work of domestic 
 reconstruction commenced more promptly, nor 
 pushed more vigorously, after the war, than in and 
 about the town of Bellaire. Many families consisted 
 now of women and children and a few faithful blacks, 
 some able-bodied, many too old for service. 
 
 All the plain necessities of life were high-priced, 
 and very many things that people in moderate cir- 
 cumstances had been accustomed to were not to be 
 had at any price. The establishment of the new 
 bank with Colonel Fairfax as president was a great 
 benefit to the people. There was no secret made of 
 the origin of the money. At first, in the bitterness 
 of defeat it was hard to accept help from a Northern 
 man; but, Fairfax explained that it was not charity, 
 neither had his brother-in-law obtained his wealth in 
 so patriotic a fashion as to call for any scruples on the 
 part of beaten insurgents in using it. While he was 
 protected by his Government he had his hand deep in 
 the treasury. He had hurrahed for the Union, and 
 prayed for the Southern rebels to hold their forts until 
 he secured a fortune. 
 
 It required but a season or two for Bellaire and the 
 surrounding farms to put on that staid, respectable 
 air incident to nothing in the world in the same 
 degree as a well kept, judiciously cultivated agricul- 
 tural district. 
 
 As to Westlake, he felt keenly the prejudice against
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 103 
 
 him, but being brother-in-law to Colonel Fairfax 
 smoothed the way for him more than he liked to 
 acknowledge. He fancied he had great adaptability. 
 He wanted the credit of winning his own way. He 
 was not averse to being welcomed as a man of wealth, 
 but he wished more than anything else to be con- 
 sidered a man of tact and fine instincts. He studied 
 Southern dialect and tricks of speech. He would 
 have liked to be mistaken for a genuine son of the 
 South. Since this was impossible with the natives, 
 he contented himself with assuming a vast cosmo- 
 politanism. He professed to feel at home anywhere. 
 All parts of the world were the same to him. He 
 was very grateful to his sister and to fate that he had 
 such respectable relations. He gazed on the extent 
 of Fairfax Farms with the most beatific satisfaction. 
 He walked through the big rooms with the air of a 
 king. It was all so much finer than anything he had 
 ever dreamed of for his pretty sister. He liked to 
 feel that his own sudden wealth would be shorn of 
 half its glitter by this alliance with a family that had 
 always been respectable. 
 
 It was a morning or two after his arrival that he 
 was walking about the lawns and gardens with Mrs. 
 Fairfax, after declining to accompany the Colonel to 
 Bellaire. They had strolled down the beech path 
 and sat on a rustic settee in plain view of the ruin. 
 Naturally he asked its history, and was told the story 
 of Jasper's aunt, and the beautiful fraud who was to 
 have been his wife. 
 
 " But, why in the world," he asked, " doesn't the 
 Colonel have these walls taken down? They're a blot. 
 This stone could be utilized about the farm."
 
 IO4 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " I know that, but, there's no use of saying one 
 word. I think that Jasper feels that in a degree he 
 is responsible for the death of the girl. Of course he 
 couldn't marry her after knowing of her mixed 
 blood." 
 
 " That's all bosh. I wish some of my forbears had 
 married a "coon" and putalittle color in my make-up." 
 
 " Why George! I wouldn't take a fortune for my 
 coloring, just as it is." 
 
 " No, I suppose not, since it secured a fortune for 
 you. It's all very well for you, and for Zoe, but if 
 you ever have a son I hope he'll be more like the 
 Colonel." 
 
 " I hope so too. But about those walls and 
 chimnies: I wanted them taken down when I first 
 came here, and such a letter as I had from Jasper, 
 and we only married a few months! Since he came 
 home I've mentioned it twice. The first time he 
 played it was a joke, but the second time he declared 
 if I insisted on having the walls torn down, he'd take 
 me to Bellaire to live where I need never see them. 
 I never saw him in quite such a mood. You see, I 
 don't mind the look of the ruin so much as I do the 
 effect it has on the servants. It keeps them in a con- 
 stant state of excitement. They're continually re- 
 calling times of happenings in the Redfield family, 
 and showing reasons why the ghosts should walk on 
 certain nights. Then they hear screams and groans, 
 and see flitting shapes. Their theory is that Salome 
 and her uncle were so incensed at the idea of her be- 
 ing thrown over after the death of her father that they 
 deliberately set fire to the powder and sacrificed
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 105 
 
 themselves rather than that this highly educated, 
 beautiful Salome should submit to slavery." 
 
 " That was rather rough on the girl. Under the 
 circumstances seems to me the Colonel ought to have 
 married her. Mixed blood is awfully common in 
 the South." 
 
 " It's common wherever the two races are. Look 
 at the colored people in Madison. You know that 
 amongst the few hundreds there you'll find all shades 
 from coal black to sheepskin gray. Miscegenation is 
 not an exclusively Southern vice." 
 
 " Well dear me ! You're only a Southerner by 
 marriage, but you're as good a rebel as anybody. By 
 the way; did you ever know what became of Jack 
 Saunders? " 
 
 " Sh! No. I'd like to know too, just for my own 
 satisfaction. I wouldn't like very well for him to 
 present himself here looking for me and a chance to 
 invest a fortune," and Mrs. Fairfax laughed while her 
 face reddened. 
 
 "Oh no danger. Poor devil was killed in the first 
 day's fight in the Wilderness. Some of his things, 
 a scrap of his hair, his cap, some buttons, a ring and 
 some letters were sent to his mother. She showed 
 them to me when I was in Madison. She never had 
 the least idea who sent them. There was a scrawl on 
 a leaf from a note-book, saying the things were taken 
 from a dead soldier, and as the letters identified him, 
 they were sent. The note was signed, 'A Con- 
 federate Soldier'." 
 
 "Poor Jack! But, I'm afraid we wouldn't have 
 been happy together/'
 
 io6 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " It's just as well to say that now. Did he know 
 of your marriage? " 
 
 " I don't know, I'm sure. He had a photograph 
 of mine that I'd like to know of. Did Mrs. Saunders 
 mention it? " 
 
 " No. How about letters? " 
 
 "I had written very few, and those might have been 
 to my grandfather. You know how cranky papa 
 was about such things. Of course he didn't know 
 that Jack had my photograph." 
 
 "Well you and the Colonel have both had your 
 little affairs of the heart; but, as the principal wit- 
 nesses against you are dead, I guess the future is 
 safe enough." 
 
 "Jasper had a more serious affair than that of 
 Salome. You remember the Adelaide Francis I 
 told you of meeting the summer when I was in the 
 Adirondacks, where I first met Jasper and his aunt 
 and Salome?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well she and Jasper were married in Washington 
 in the early part of the next year after the tragedy 
 here," waving her hand toward the ruin. 
 
 " They lived together only a few weeks, quarreled 
 on the state of the country and soon after the fall of 
 Fort Sumter they separated." 
 
 "The devil! Why that must have been only about 
 a year before you and he were married." 
 
 " Just about a year, or less. Well, about half an 
 hour before the time for our marriage ceremony, he 
 received a week old letter from Adelaide's father, 
 announcing the birth of a baby a boy." 
 
 " By Gosh ! And he told you of it? "
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 107 
 
 "Of course. Jasper wouldn't deceive me." 
 
 " He needn't deceive you, he could simply keep 
 his mouth shut." 
 
 " He wouldn't even seem to deceive me." 
 
 " I'm afraid that cub may put Zoe's nose out of 
 joint." 
 
 "Oh, I think not. I asked him, at the time what 
 he meant to do about it, and he said he didn't feel 
 called upon to do anything. He said the quarrel had 
 not been of a personal nature at all. That by the 
 terms of the divorce both were absolutely free, and 
 that Adelaide had said she would resume her maiden 
 name; and there was no least hint that a child was 
 expected. I don't belreve he has ever heard from 
 any of the Francis family since." 
 
 "And you've never mentioned the matter to him 
 since? " 
 
 ''Oh no! You see I've seen so little of him since 
 we've been married; and of course I couldn't write 
 him about it." 
 
 " Probably it's best to keep still. Wait until some- 
 thing brings the subject up. That youngster must 
 be about three years old." 
 
 " Yes, over three since February. How much I'd 
 like to see him! " 
 
 " Well, pray the Lord you never may, and pray too 
 for a son of your own. I tell you, these Southern 
 fellows have great ideas of holding their realty in one 
 name for ages ; like the nobility of Europe." 
 
 " Jasper has some distant relations in England, all 
 the relations he knows anything about, by the way, 
 and they've a title. It seems the two brothers who 
 came to the colonies were younger sons, or cousins
 
 io8 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 or something of Lord Treslyn whose family name 
 was and is, Fairfax." 
 
 " It would be a fine trick of fortune if the Colonel 
 shoud inherit an English title." 
 
 " But he won't. Several years ago he visited 
 Treslyn Castle and was entertained most splendidly. 
 The family consisted of Lord Treslyn, only about 
 sixty years old, his son Leigh Fairfax probably a 
 dozen years older than Jasper, and at that time he 
 had four children. Two boys and two girls." 
 
 " Not much chance then for our Kentuckian. 
 Lucky for him he doesn't need this English wealth." 
 
 "Oh yes, he'd never live in England. No man was 
 ever prouder of his nationality than Jasper is." 
 
 After a pause Westlake remarked: 
 
 " I believe, Marcia that ruin is rather picturesque, 
 both to look at and to think about. It's romantic. 
 In a way it's a monument to the girl. Even the ghosts 
 give an air of aristocracy to the place." 
 
 " I think some of the ghosts the darkies have seen 
 and heard were very much alive people, searching for 
 Salome's diamonds." 
 
 " What! Was she the owner of diamonds?" 
 
 "Oh my yes! Sheba has told me of bracelets and 
 necklaces and hair ornaments 'and brooches and rings 
 without end. So has Mrs. Simmons. The Simmons 
 people have lived here for thirty years. Ceely, who 
 used to be Salome's maid has talked by the hour about 
 her jewelry. Her father had quite a collection of 
 uncut jewels that he left her in his will. Not one of 
 these has ever been found. Mrs. Simmons has told 
 me that she and her husband, their daughter and son- 
 in-law have spent hours and hours digging in the
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 109 
 
 rubbish. They think that Salome and Victor secreted 
 the jewels somewhere, intending to carry them away, 
 but, an accident with a match or a candle fired the 
 powder and they perished." 
 
 " Well, well ! fine chance for detective work 
 whether the fortune was ever found or not. I must 
 take a look at the place. Lord! all sorts of mischief, 
 like counterfeiting, unlawful distilling or secreting 
 stolen goods might be carried on there. I suppose 
 there's a cellar? " 
 
 "Oh yes, under the whole house. Many of the 
 floors over the cellars were lined with stone laid in 
 cement." 
 
 " H'm ; people don't build that way nowadays." 
 
 Westlake clasped his hands behind his head and 
 dropping his hat he leaned back and stared at the gray 
 walls, half covered with ivy. Mrs. Fairfax said some- 
 thing about returning to the house. It was nearly 
 time for lunch ; Jasper might be at home and she must 
 see if Zoe was being cared for. 
 
 Westlake yawned : " But this kid of the Colonel's 
 first wife, where is he supposed to live? " 
 
 " In Washington. He was born there. You see 
 Senator Francis was a Unionist, and he lost caste to 
 such a degree that after a few months of the war, he 
 never dared to show himself in Lexington. They 
 say his house there was ruined by a mob of his friends 
 who had voted him into Congress several terms." 
 
 " Good enough for him. But you just keep your 
 eyes open about that boy. If Fairfax happens to 
 have an errand to Washington or anywhere else, you 
 go with him. Your predecessor may not live in 
 Washington now."
 
 no Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 "Why George, I don't believe Jasper would deceive 
 me. If he's doing anything for Adelaide and her 
 child, or if he wanted to go and see them, I'm sure 
 he'd tell me." 
 
 " Don't fool yourself. He wouldn't want to have 
 a row, and you're no woman if you wouldn't object 
 to him keeping tab on Adelaide and her boy. Just 
 keep your eyes open. If you discover nothing, all 
 right. If you find that you and Zoe have each a 
 rival, you'll be oartially prepared for them/*
 
 Jasper Fairfax. in 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Before this conversation with her brother, Mrs. 
 Fairfax had often reviewed the events that had led up 
 to her short courtship and sudden marriage. That 
 her husband loved her she did not doubt. Some- 
 times when she lifted her eyes and found his own 
 fixed upon her with a dreamy, half smiling expression 
 she was pleased to believe that he was glad of the 
 wreck of his first marriage. Then her cheeks grew 
 pink, and a wonder stole into her heart. Was she so 
 delicately pretty as to rival even beautiful Adelaide 
 Francis? In the days they had passed together in 
 the mountains when he was Salome's debonair 
 lover, she had said to herself over and over that he 
 was the handsomest, most polished, most agreeable 
 man she ever saw. In those days, if her own heart 
 had given her the slightest hint that she would ever 
 be his wife she would have said "no, I'll go to the 
 moon instead, and marry the man who lives there. 
 That's more probable." 
 
 In the most unprecedented way two beautiful 
 women were set aside by fate, and she, the least at- 
 tractive of the three, was ruler of this man's home 
 and heart. Ah, that last! Was it so? Did he grieve 
 for Salome with her velvety eyes and wonderful 
 tawny hair? Was the ruined home where she grew 
 and unfolded into such beautiful womanhood a 
 monument to her loss, a continual reminder to him 
 of what might have been? Perhaps; but, that other
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 the woman who had been his wife who was the 
 mother of his son. Ah ! regret for a dead sweetheart 
 is a harmless, fading sorrow. Longing for a living 
 woman and her son, his son 
 
 George must be right. In this train of thought 
 was one that threw into shame her hasty marriage. 
 How fickle Jasper must be ! How soon after Salome's 
 death he had married Adelaide ! How soon after his 
 divorce from Adelaide had he married her! How 
 soon would he have another fancy? 
 
 She wondered she had never thought of it before. 
 What if he had been deceiving her for ever so long! 
 When he was wounded and a prisoner, how could she 
 know that he was not passing the time with Adelaide. 
 Twice before he had been wounded, but escaped 
 capture, and, came home. How foolish and trusting 
 and romantic she had grown since she had been 
 separated from her father and brother. Now she 
 would follow George's advice to the letter. In the 
 spirit, she must, as she was thoroughly imbued with 
 suspicion. 
 
 The brother's advice was iterated and reiterated. 
 The two were never alone together for half an hour 
 that Colonel Fairfax's first wife and their son were 
 not mentioned. In justice be it recorded that it was 
 always Westlake who opened the subject, sometimes 
 carelessly, inadvertently, oftener seriously. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax watched her husband most zealously. 
 She did this, usually, with a pretty air of devotion 
 that would appeal to the heart of any man, were he 
 the recipient of the attention or only a spectator. 
 When the banking business was in course of organiz- 
 ation and Fairfax drove to Bellaire early every morn-
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 113 
 
 ing, he was surprised that his wife found errands each 
 morning to take her also to the village. He was 
 still more surprised when she drove to the bank for 
 him each evening. He told her it was very kind and 
 pleasant of her to thus constitute herself his coach- 
 man, but, she must not inconvenience herself. She 
 must not sacrifice too much of her time to please him. 
 
 Had she not many, many things to do? He thought 
 women always had a whole world of sewing. Then 
 there was the house to keep. She, being a thrifty 
 Northern woman would certainly manage the ser- 
 vants more rigidly than would a woman of the South. 
 
 Sometimes to this playful banter, Mrs. Fairfax 
 would answer with a sly little caress that could be 
 given even on the street, and with entire impunity 
 within the business rooms of the bank. 
 
 At other times, with a pretty assumption of will- 
 fulness she declared she would willingly neglect any- 
 thing in the world but her baby, for the sake of his 
 society. Then, sometimes, as will happen to the 
 most tactful of women, her nerves would be in re- 
 bellion. She would not know that she had over- 
 taxed herself until her husband's good-natured re- 
 monstrances gave her the sensation of receiving a 
 mouth-full of acid when she had expected a candied 
 violet. At these times there was a dash of tears and 
 a collapse into the nearest chair, and a sobbing 
 avowal that she would stay at home forever if he 
 wished it. If he was weary of her society, she would 
 deny herself of the supreme pleasure of her life. 
 
 What could a man who had a high regard for his 
 wife, and an ideal sense of his great obligations to her, 
 do in a case like that? Just what Jasper Fairfax did;
 
 M4 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Pet and caress her, kiss away her tears, wonder how 
 such a barbarian as himself ever did happen to be so 
 fortunate as to gain possession of the sweetest wife 
 in the world, and declare he would barter the universe 
 for one moment of her precious presence. 
 
 While the banking organization was still incom- 
 plete, Fairfax said one evenirg at dinner, that it would 
 probably be better for him to go to Washington to 
 arrange a certain preliminary than to depend on cor- 
 respondence. 
 
 Westlake gave his sister a quick glance from under 
 half-closed eye-lids. She at once took her cue, 
 exclaiming : 
 
 "Oh that will be delightful! I haven't been in 
 Washington since Lincoln's first inaugural." 
 
 Fairfax looked surprised and serious. " I shall be 
 very much hurried; I'll not be able to spare the time 
 for going about with you." 
 
 " I won't mind that. I've been cooped up here so 
 long! I want a breath of strange air." 
 
 " How about your wardrobe? " 
 
 " I have enough to travel in, and I'll do some 
 shopping there. A Southern woman must not dress 
 too well now." 
 
 So the trip was made, and upon their return Fairfax 
 wondered what it was that had wearied him so utterly. 
 If he had had no time for going about with his wife 
 she bridged over the difficulty by appropriating all 
 the time the sun measured for going about with him. 
 He reminded her of her shopping. She had decided 
 to make no purchases. He was afraid she was weary 
 in the middle of the day ; would she not better rest a 
 while? She assured him she was as fresh as when
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 1 1 5 
 
 she left home. At each least hint from him that there 
 might be something else than going about with him 
 well worth the doing, she grew more determined to 
 keep him in her sight. 
 
 So thoroughly had she become imbued with the 
 idea that his real business in Washington was to visit 
 Adelaide Francis, and the affair of the bank but a 
 pretext, that she grew crabbed and sulky before the 
 evening of the one day they were to pass in the city. 
 It had been arranged that they should start for home 
 on this evening, so as to economize time; but when 
 Fairfax saw the frown in the eyes of his wife, he said, 
 " No, dear, you must rest to-night. You are utterly 
 worn out. We'll start for home to-morrow morning." 
 
 Then her thought was: "He's determined to see 
 her and the child. Well; he'll not get out of my sight 
 this night." 
 
 After dinner Fairfax said : " Now dear, lie on this 
 couch and rest. I'll go to the office and have a 
 smoke." 
 
 " No, smoke here. I'll be lonely if you go away. 
 Stay here or I'll follow you." 
 
 " Very well then ; only lie down. I think you have 
 no idea of your weariness." 
 
 She knew she was tired, but she did not know how 
 exceedingly tiresome she was making herself to her 
 husband. Nor did he know it. Her watchfulness, 
 her uneasiness, her over-exertion had so fatigued her 
 that she was on the verge of hysteria. 
 
 On retiring for the night, she said: " Don't close 
 the door between our rooms. I feel half afraid." 
 
 " No indeed. I believe you'd better have some- 
 thing quieting, wouldn't you? A trifle of valerian? *'
 
 n6 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 "Oh no! no! Valerian is dreadful for the nerves. 
 No, I need nothing. 
 
 " Nothing but rest, and I hope you'll have it." 
 
 He kissed her cheek, her eyes, her forehead and 
 left her. Her thought, with a scornful drawing down 
 of the corners of her mouth : " Yes ; I'll rest when I 
 get you out of this city. Valerian ! Put me soundly 
 to sleep and leave you free to wander away wherever 
 you please! Well, I guess not." 
 
 She guessed rightly. Her state of mind, more than 
 her weariness of body kept her awake until the gray 
 of the morning. All night long she watched to see 
 her husband rise from his bed, dress himself carefully, 
 be all ready to leave the room slyly, and then ! 
 
 But all night long she heard his regular breathing 
 as he slept. Once he stirred and she was on the alert. 
 He sighed softly,then, what was that he was saying? 
 She leaned far out of her bed to listen. She heard a 
 soft " ha ha," and then, " Papa's darling baby 
 Zoe!" 
 
 She cowered back in her bed, her cheeks burning. 
 What if she were wronging him after all? But, men 
 were notoriously false; why should her husband be 
 better than others? Considering his peculiar cir- 
 cumstances what might not happen? She would con- 
 tinue to be guided by George's advice. She would 
 see to it that no one concerned in that domestic trag- 
 edy should steal a march upon her. 
 
 The morning found her pale as a ghost, without 
 appetite and irritable almost beyond endurance. 
 Fairfax was astonished and anxious. Their breakfast 
 was served in their own parlor. He would have called 
 a physician. He said they would not leave Washing-
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 117 
 
 ton until she was feeling better; but she was positive 
 in expressing: her wish to go at once. She could rest 
 on the train. She would not delay him for the 
 world. 
 
 So they started wes'tward and Fairfax wondered 
 more and more. The city was hardly lost behind 
 them before his wife grew listless, drowsy, and leaning 
 her head on his shoulder slept soundly for hours. 
 
 "She's a poor traveller," he thought. "Who'd 
 have dreamed that the excitement of a little jaunt 
 like this would so completely use her up? How she 
 has clung to me every moment of the time! Poor 
 girl! She must go from home oftener. She's losing 
 all her spirit and brightness." 
 
 When home was reached and Mrs. Fairfax, ab- 
 sorbed in Sheba's account of Zoe's doings during her 
 absence left her husband to go to their rooms alone, 
 he threw himself on a wicker couch and closed his 
 eyes with the sensation as of dropping a great burden. 
 What the burden was he did not inquire. He had no 
 conception of the true state of the case. He told 
 Sheba he was very glad to be at home again. Home 
 was the best place in the world. He played with Zoe, 
 admiring her delicate beauty and her pretty frock, 
 and after dinner he walked about the lawn with her in 
 his arms. He listened to her little broken words with 
 the greatest attention, and, by and by when Mrs. 
 Fairfax sauntered down the walk and joined them he 
 said: 
 
 " Marcia, did you ever hear any great singer, or 
 any cunning musical instrument make sounds one 
 half as sweet as this wee one's prattle? " 
 
 The mother made no direct answer. She trifled
 
 n8 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 with baby's flaxen curls and made baby talk to her 
 while she wondered, even then, if her husband had 
 not in his mind that other child, that son of his. 
 
 Of her own accord she had laid aside womanly 
 trust that should have clothed her like a complete 
 garment. Of her own accord she had donned the 
 robe of Nessus, and there was no rest nor comfort for 
 her under the sun.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 119 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 In all the wide circle of their acquaintances, Jasper 
 Fairfax and his wife were considered a most congenial 
 pair. They were always together excepting the few 
 business hours in the middle of the day. On Sunday 
 morning, with Zoe in her cab, they would saunter 
 down the beech avenue, past the ruin, then along the 
 shady highway to the little gray stone church. Some- 
 times they drove to Bellaire for service, but not often. 
 
 Through the week if Mrs. Fairfax did not accom- 
 pany her husband to his business in the morning and 
 drive him home in the evening there was an earnest 
 look at her brother and a laughing charge, " Take 
 care of your brother, George." 
 
 There were playful commands, too that, coming 
 frequently, ceased to be pleasant. The gist of these 
 commands was, " Be sure to hurry home after bank- 
 ing hours. Let there be no loitering on the streets 
 at the very time when all the pretty girls are out." 
 
 Sometimes Fairfax would ask : " Do you think so 
 poorly of yourself that you are in constant fear of a 
 rival? I never dream of watching you. I'm sure 
 you think me the best and prettiest boy in the world." 
 
 Then there were laughter and protestations that 
 that was the very reason why she was watchful. All 
 the girls and women praised him; while no man but 
 himself admired her. She invariably searched his 
 pockets, declaring openly that she meant to discover 
 any secret correspondence he might be carrying on,
 
 i2o Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 To this Fairfax answered that whenever he wished to 
 maintain a clandestine correspondence, so very secret 
 that she must not know of it he would invent a most 
 intricate cypher system, or probably use only busi- 
 ness terms, and hand the letters to her to read. They 
 would be quite safe, as she confessed that business 
 talk was unmeaning jargon to her. 
 
 From the impetus given her latent jealousy and 
 self-depreciation by her brother's influence, Mrs. 
 Fairfax, though naturally trusting and credulous, 
 grew to find this constant watch upon her husband, 
 the one object of her life. She was truer to blood 
 than she was to conjugality. From suspecting her 
 husband of a lingering fondness for his first wife and 
 her child, and a clandestine knowledge of them, she 
 grew to fancying he might be entangled in any 
 number of intrigues, more or less serious, or, he 
 would be if she gave the opportunity. 
 
 "Think of it;" she said to Westlake; "there was 
 the breaking of his engagement with Salome and her 
 tragic death, but he was married to Adelaide Francis 
 before the year was out. They quarreled and sep- 
 arated and he and I were married within less than a 
 year from his first wedding day." 
 
 Westlake laughed. " He is not false but fickle. 
 Why didn't you think of that when he asked you to 
 marry? " 
 
 " Because I was in so much trouble about papa 
 and you." 
 
 " Just so; and a generous, big hearted man falls in 
 love with you, or he's doing a fair job of make-believe, 
 and marries you to protect you. You accept with- 
 out a 'thank you,' and now you question his every-
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 121 
 
 day behaviour, thinking that because he married you 
 hastily there must be something wrong." 
 
 " It seems to me, now that I've had time to think 
 it over I was very foolish." 
 
 " I tell you the circumstances justified it all, on 
 both sides, and I think the Colonel gave you first- 
 class proof of his regard for you." 
 
 "Oh, of course, men always justify themselves and 
 each other for following an impulse where women are 
 concerned. If he should take a fancy to some other 
 woman, I don't believe he'd consider me for a moment. 
 He'd find some fine, honorable excuse for ridding 
 himself of me, or keeping me in ignorance." 
 
 " But, Marcia, I'm sure the Colonel's as kind to 
 you as he possibly can be." 
 
 " He's kind to everybody. Politeness is the found- 
 ation of his character." 
 
 " Yes, I know, he's a thorough-bred ; and you're 
 drawing the reins too hard. I think he's true as steel 
 to you. Of course, if that boy of Adelaide's lives, he 
 may bob up some dav and make trouble, but I don't 
 believe the Colonel ever hears anything of him now." 
 
 " He might hear of him a dozen times without 
 telling you or me." 
 
 " Yes, that's so but there's no use of fretting about 
 it until you know. All you can do is to keep your 
 eyes open ; and, don't be cranky ; don't nag." 
 
 This was good advice but, probably Frankenstein 
 had his advisers too. The monster he created and 
 failed to control was not to be compared, in his capac- 
 ity for evil with the monster of Jealousy that George 
 Westlake had awakened in his sister's mind. 
 
 When a woman sets herself such a task as had Mar-
 
 122 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 cia Fairfax, by what standard is she to gauge any- 
 thing she sees? She purposely distorts her vision, 
 then sits in judgment on the world. 
 
 She sees trifles that, left alone, would float away 
 like a plume of vapor, but, encouraged and magnified 
 by her diseased imagination assume the proportion 
 and portent of a river of lava. The 'good-morning' 
 of a friend means, " how sad and tragic it is that we 
 must ever say good-morning or good-night." She 
 grew querulous, exacting, tyrannical. 
 
 Fairfax, watching this strange and unpleasant de- 
 velopment of her character, wondered, philosophized, 
 endured. He first believed her health was breaking, 
 and prescribed change of air; but she refused, ab- 
 solutely to leave home without him. Frequently, 
 then, he went away with her, north in the summer, 
 south in the winter, anywhere she chose, but there 
 was no change of behaviour. True she insisted she 
 was not ill and her whole appearance corroborated 
 her words. She was fragile and delicate of figure, 
 but yet of girlish roundness and grace. She carried 
 her years so easily, she was often mistaken for the 
 careful elder sister of her daughter. 
 
 When the family was not away from home, Fair- 
 fax encouraged his wife to fill the house with guests. 
 She must have something to distract her thoughts, 
 to prevent her from growing morbid. But, though 
 she was a most gracious and delightful hostess, she 
 was never so absorbed but that she might watch her 
 husband, and from watching to suspecting and re- 
 proaching was but a breath. 
 
 Fairfax reviewed the situation many times. When 
 he at last recognized and acknowledged the blemish
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 123 
 
 in the character of his wife, he told himself that he had 
 been very much mistaken in her. He had supposed 
 she was a very trusting and unselfish woman. In all 
 fairness he thought that under the circumstances 
 there was some reason for her distrust. Out of his 
 own behaviour since their first acquaintance had this 
 distrust grown. So as he came to this conclusion late 
 one night, he rose from where he was sitting in his 
 dressing room, stole in to his wife's room and lightly 
 kissed her as she slept. " My sins be upon my own 
 head. The fanning of a butter-fly's wings don't 
 hurt. I shall be patience personified, pretty one." 
 
 And yet, there was her behaviour towards Sheba 
 when he first brought her home. She had resented 
 the nurse's attentions to him, and had raised a barrier 
 of reserve between herself and the rest of the servants. 
 This he had explained to the blacks and also to him- 
 self, as the cropping out of Northern prejudice. In 
 a measure that was right. Now, after a dozen yearsj 
 this feeling was gone. Sheba or any of the servants 
 might come and go as they pleased. They were as 
 necessary to her comfort as they were to his own. 
 But, he knew that much of her treatment of the slaves 
 in those first days, was prompted by the same feeling 
 that urged her now and always to claim every 
 moment of his time that was not filled with business. 
 
 She was aggressive in asserting her exclusive right 
 to him. She owned him. No one else had the 
 shadow of a claim to one glance, one word, without 
 her sanction. The wives and daughters of old friends 
 must not be too cordial in their manners to the owner 
 of Fairfax Farms, if they did not wish to provoke a 
 breath of frigidity from his wife, Not that any one
 
 124 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 suspected jealousy, but women learned, instinctively 
 that Mrs. Fairfax had very rigid ideas on some mat- 
 ters, and good humoredly thought no further. What 
 would have been the surprise of these neighbors and 
 of Jasper Fairfax himself, could they or he have read 
 the thoughts of the pretty, graceful Northern woman 
 as she sat in her drawing room gazing on the pictured 
 face of her husband's mother and complacently 
 acknowledging the goodness of Providence in re- 
 moving her! 
 
 Sometimes Fairfax thought that if more children 
 had come to them the mind and character of his wife 
 would have broadened with her cares; but, the years 
 went by, Zoe was a beautiful, slender girl of ten, and 
 no younger ones to call her sister. 
 
 The political whirligig, after many erratic gyr- 
 ations, had again spun John Cogswell into Congress. 
 The last season he and his wife had in Washington, 
 was when their two daughters were society girls. 
 Now they were married with children old enough to 
 be left in school, while they made plans for a gay 
 month with their father and mother. 
 
 Mrs. Cogswell said she was sure she should find 
 Washington very much changed. She knew too that 
 she would feel lonely. So she must have a full house. 
 She would invite others besides her daughters and their 
 husbands. Amongst these others were the Fairfax 
 husband and wife and brother Westlake. 
 
 When the invitation was given, Mrs. Fairfax in- 
 sisted that her husband's business would probably 
 prevent him from leaving home. 
 
 "Oh bother the business!" from Senator Cogs- 
 well. " Doesn't he go other places? That bank
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 125 
 
 can run itself. I tell you, Mrs. Fairfax, Jasper has so 
 got hold of the people of Bellaire and here-about, 
 I actually believe he could walk out of that bank any 
 day and leave the safes and vaults wide open, and 
 there isn't a person in the county who knows 'im but 
 would constitute himself a guard of honor, and 
 protect the bank with his life if necessary." 
 
 " That's true, every word of it," assented Mrs. 
 Cogswell, while Fairfax laughed and shook his head 
 deprecatingly at his old friends. He was well ac- 
 customed to their kindly flatteries. Nobody in the 
 world knew him better. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax said primly : " Then there is every 
 reason why he should not abuse the confidence of 
 his friends." 
 
 Westlake remarked lazily : "Of course the business 
 would be all right. The men, with one or two excep- 
 tions, have been with the concern ever since it started. 
 Seems to me Marcia that it might be pleasanter for 
 us to see something of busy life, once in a way, in- 
 stead of loafiing in Florida, or seeing the Mardi Gras 
 in New Orleans. You haven't been in Washington 
 since Zoe was a baby, and she's ten years old, isn't 
 she? " and he looked steadily at his sister. 
 
 " Yes, she's ten. Well, of course, Jasper says not 
 a word, whether he wants to go or not," and she put 
 on a look of patient endurance. 
 
 " I leave it all to you, my dear. Your word is law 
 in this house. There's not the least difficulty in leav- 
 ing the business. If you say we'll accept Mrs. Cogs- 
 well's kind invitation, there's nothing more to be said 
 by any one. If you say no, why then the vote is 
 unanimous."
 
 126 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax's face reddened. Her thought was 
 that this ready acquiescence only proved how entirely 
 she was ignored in the hidden part of her husband's 
 life. It was not necessary to his happiness or com- 
 fort that they should go to Washington. No doubt 
 he was in constant communication with Adelaide 
 and her son. It would not be so much more to 
 be in the same city with them, as she had proved on 
 one occasion. Urged by her brother's remark, and 
 the telegraphy of his eyes, and knowing he would 
 explain fully when they were alone together, she very 
 gracefully accepted the invitation. Then she talked 
 so well of the duties of wives in regard to the best 
 interest of their husbands, that Senator Cogswell was 
 quite charmed with her. 
 
 Westlake grinned broadly and said to himself what 
 a consummate actress Marcia was growing. Later, 
 to her questions as to why he approved of a visit to 
 Washington he explained that for want of something 
 tangible on which to nourish her suspicions she was 
 growing visionary and cranky. There was nothing in 
 her husband's life from day to day of which the most 
 exacting woman could complain; but, she was al- 
 lowing her mind to wander from this first wife and the 
 possibilities of harm through her son to the merest 
 trifles concerning other women. Because of this 
 remote, but quite possible rival, she was making of 
 herself a veritable octopus with tentacles that drew in 
 and destroyed every joy and comfort in life. She 
 was worse than the darkies with their ghost stories. 
 
 So she would better go to Washington for a few 
 weeks; and if she could be satisfied in no other way, 
 look up Adelaide. They had known each other, and
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 127 
 
 she could make the meeting seem accidental. If she 
 used tact she could discover if the separation, born of 
 the bitterness of party feeling, in the first days of the 
 war had ever been bridged over. Better still, she 
 might make the acquaintance of the boy and find out 
 how much he knew of his father. 
 
 Though Mrs. Fairfax could not tolerate the 
 thought of deliberately meeting her predecessor, yet 
 she felt an overwhelming curiosity to see her. She 
 was more than curious to see the child. Adelaide 
 Francis was the most beautiful girl she had ever seen. 
 She was simply perfect in face, form and manner. 
 If the boy resembled her, how handsome he must be ! 
 If he was like his father ah ! She felt that to see him 
 would break her heart. Little Zoe was a lovely child, 
 but showed no least resemblance to her father. Mrs. 
 Fairfax brooded over this until it became a very real 
 pain to her. She felt that she was being tricked by 
 fate. If this one daughter had been a Fairfax, or if 
 she had had other children she might have been more 
 secure. As matters were, what might not happen?
 
 128 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax was a woman of system. She could 
 not abide hurry and confusion. It was within a few 
 days of the time for going to Washington and her 
 preparations were complete. There was ample time 
 for seeing that everything was in order about the 
 house. There was great satisfaction in knowing 
 there would be no worry at the last minute. There 
 was time too to pay all social debts in the way of calls. 
 She liked to feel, that after a short absence her house 
 was the Mecca of all her friends. At these times she 
 felt herself the social center of her little world. 
 
 It was to pay off a few calls that she drove into 
 Bellaire one morning with her husband. She lunched 
 with a party convened in her honor, and went home 
 late in the afternoon. She was tired and she called 
 Ceely to brush her hair and make her comfortable for 
 a nap. As the girl was putting an afhgan over her mis- 
 tress she felt something under her foot. Stooping 
 she picked up a letter, and with the remark that she 
 " reckoned it b'longed to Mas' Jaspa," she laid it on 
 a table and went away. 
 
 No sooner was she gone than Mrs. Fairfax, rising 
 on her elbow reached the letter. It was directed to 
 Colonel Jasper Fairfax, and bore the Washington 
 post mark. It had been opened, and, no doubt the 
 owner had dropped it that morning or the evening 
 before, as it was of recent date. She knew the hand 
 at once. It was from Senator Cogswell; but why had
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 129 
 
 Jasper been silent about it? She had not been aware 
 of any correspondence between them. However, she 
 had no hesitancy in reading the letter. The first 
 paragraph or two were pleasant reminders of their 
 coming visit, and wondered why they could not have 
 made the journey with " the girls," Mrs. Jerome and 
 Mrs. Dome. Their rooms were in readiness, and the 
 whole house would welcome them. Then, and Mrs. 
 Fairfax felt sure that it was this that had prompted 
 the letter: "The other day I was quite startled. I 
 needed a page to carry a message, and I beckoned a 
 little fellow who loitered not far away. He came and 
 I could not make out where I had seen him before. 
 I seemed to be looking into a face I had known long 
 ago and half forgotten, and, I couldn't name him. 
 I kept the youngster waiting as long as I could, while 
 I cudgelled my dusty old brains. When I could 
 invent no more excuses, to detain him, I said, 'Well 
 young man I like your looks. Tell me your name, 
 so that we may be even. You seem to know mine.' 
 The answer was, Jasper Fairfax. Then the mists 
 cleared away. He looks like you. For an instant 
 my mind was full of visions of lawless natural selection 
 and stolen sweets; then I remembered your ill-fated 
 marriage. To find if I was guessing rightly I said, 
 ' Dear me ! I believe I know your grandfather 
 Francis.' His answer was, and with his Dad's own 
 decided manner: 'I hope so; Grandpa's a Kentuc- 
 kian. He and Mama and I live together.' I've 
 cultivated the boy's acquaintance. He's the trimmest 
 little figure in his page's uniform; and altogether as 
 fine a little fellow as you'd care to see. As like you,, 
 too! what a thousand pities it is but, there you
 
 130 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 have a lovely, affectionate wife and a charming little 
 daughter. Young Jasper has invited me to call on 
 his grandfather. I reckon I'll go and see the damned 
 old renegade sometime, and shake hands across the 
 chasm." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax was in a tempest of emotions. After 
 all her watchfulness, this came without warning and 
 found her unprepared. She could not say that it had 
 not come to her husband in the same way. In one 
 breath she blamed him for not showing her the letter ; 
 in the next she acknowledged that it would have been 
 in exceeding bad taste for him to have done so. All 
 the afternoon she writhed under the lashings of her 
 own thoughts until she was in a state bordering on 
 hysteria. 
 
 As the time drew near for her husband's home 
 coming, she changed her mind fifty times in regard 
 to her line of action. She never dreamed of silence, 
 of placing the letter somewhere about the rooms 
 where he would find it without knowing it had been 
 in her hands. Her indecision was all as to the man- 
 ner of approaching him about this description of Ade- 
 laide's son, and his reasons for not even telling her 
 he had had a letter from Cogswell. 
 
 At last she decided she would be dressed, calm 
 herself as well as she could, and, after dinner have, as 
 she said, an explanation. At least she would hear 
 what he had to say, and see how he would say it. 
 
 As soon as Fairfax saw his wife he knew there was 
 something wrong. He asked her if she was ill, or 
 tired, and without looking up she said no. She was 
 carefully dressed, but her face was quite colorless save 
 the dark circles below her eyes. Her hands trembled,
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 131 
 
 so did her voice. However, she talked very little, 
 and her manner had a subduing effect on the family. 
 When she raised her eyes, it was quite trying to find 
 her husband watching her with the most decorous 
 and affectionate concern. 
 
 As soon as dinner was over she started for the 
 stairs, saying, " Jasper I wish to see you for a minute 
 as soon as convenient." 
 
 His answer was a quick rising from his chair, 
 passing his arm about her, and, " Certainly dear, let 
 me help you ;" and together they went away. 
 
 Westlake was mystified. He could not imagine 
 what had happened. That his sister was really ill he 
 did not for one moment believe; but that she had 
 made a discovery he was certain. It must be pretty 
 serious too, that she must have it out with the Colonel 
 before consulting him. 
 
 Zoe remained in the parlor with her uncle. He 
 asked her how long mama had been ill. 
 
 The answer was, "Oh, all day perhaps. I had my 
 lessons and Miss Gertrude doesn't give me one 
 minute to call my own. I saw mama go away this 
 morning, and then I saw her this evening at dinner. 
 She'll be well to-morrow." 
 
 Above stairs more lucid explanations were in 
 progress. As soon as the husband and wife had 
 reached the cozy little parlor that was for them alone, 
 Mrs. Fairfax sank into a chair that stood near a 
 cabinet and, opening a drawer she handed out the 
 letter. 
 
 " I guess you must have dropped this," she said 
 icily. 
 
 Fairfax took it without the least change of count-
 
 132 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 enance that his wife could detect. He barely looked 
 at it and laid it down. 
 
 "Oh Cogswell's letter. Yes; I had not missed it." 
 
 Then, as if remembering the contents, he dropped 
 on one knee beside her chair and clasped her in his 
 arms. 
 
 " My darling! how sorry I am that this gossiping 
 letter fell into your hands. It isn't possible that it is 
 making you ill? " 
 
 " How would you like to find a description of a 
 child of mine, or even to know that I had a child that 
 was not yours? " and she half pushed him from her. 
 
 " Why, my dear," and Fairfax laughed as he rose 
 from the floor and drew a chair close beside her: " if 
 you had a child that was not mine, and under the 
 same circumstances that this boy bears my name, I 
 think here would be no need of a written description 
 of it. It would be living here with its mother." 
 
 " No doubt you expect me to take my cue and say 
 your son ought to live here with his father." 
 
 " Marcia! I told you the whole truth of the mat- 
 ter on the one occasion we spoke of it. Since then I 
 have made my reckoning in life without one thought 
 of my first wife and the child I have heard of, this," 
 touching the letter " is the second time." 
 
 " You can make very light of it, only supposing 
 our positions reversed. If it were real I fancy you 
 would know my feelings, at least you would if you 
 loved me." 
 
 " Why Marcia, you knew all about my first mar- 
 riage and all the trouble before you and I ever 
 dreamed of marrying each other. Then while there 
 was yet time for you to break our short engagement,
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 133 
 
 I told you of this child. I told you within less than 
 thirty minutes after I knew it myself. I don't see that 
 you have the least reason for any feeling in the 
 matter." 
 
 "Of course you don't see. What right has any man 
 to have two families? " 
 
 " No right at all. I have not two families. When 
 I married you I had no wife, no child. The law had 
 made me as free as you were. Since then I've been 
 as true as the sun to you. Adelaide was my wife. I 
 am sure, on our wedding day, we both had the very 
 best intentions. But, we quarrelled. It was a part 
 of the great quarrel of the age ; the quarrel that cost 
 rivers of blood and filled the country with widows 
 and orphans." 
 
 "Add to that, the quarrel that Jasper Fairfax is 
 still regretting, because of his lost love, Adelaide;" 
 and Mrs. Fairfax smiled scornfully. 
 
 " Marcia, my wife, that is unjust. I have you and 
 Zoe. If you think a man can go through such an ex- 
 perience as I did with Adelaide and not suffer, then, 
 well, may be a woman could. I don't know, I 
 only speak for myself. But, tell me this, Marcia: 
 Have I ever given you cause to believe that I regret 
 Adelaide?" 
 
 " Not openly." 
 
 " Then not at all. My life has been to you an open 
 book. I'd scorn to deceive you in any matter, great 
 or small." 
 
 " Do you tell me that you have never seen Ade- 
 laide, never heard from her since your separation? " 
 
 " No, I tell you no such thing." 
 
 " I thought so, I thought so; I'll get the truth if I
 
 134 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 probe for it," and Mrs. Fairfax laughed while her 
 eyes blazed. 
 
 " Now kindly tell me," she continued, " how often 
 you hear from her, and when and where you saw her 
 last." 
 
 "You shall have the truth and all the truth, and 
 that too without using your probe with unnecessary 
 brutality. This letter of Cogswell's I suppose may 
 be said to be news of Adelaide ; so was the letter from 
 her father announcing the birth of the child. You 
 have seen both. There, don't interrupt. The other 
 question: Where did I see her last I could have 
 answered at any time since Meade's men made me a 
 prisoner on the Rappahannock. But, in my ethics of 
 good taste between husband and wife I refrained from 
 mentioning this occurrence." 
 
 " Your taste is not the point in question. I have 
 no special liking for many things, but I want to know 
 once for all, upon exactly what footing I stand in 
 regard to the other Mrs. Fairfax. So, if you are equal 
 to it, if you are ready to confess " 
 
 " I am quite ready to confess, and I sincerely hope 
 you will not be shocked. I saw the other Mrs. 
 Fairfax oh, you set the example," and he showed 
 his teeth in a tigerish grin that was new to his wife, 
 as she lifted her clinched hands, "and the name is 
 hers. I saw her with a party of surgeons and army 
 nurses from where I lay, grievously wounded and a 
 prisoner. My wounds had been dressed by two 
 Federal surgeons, one an old Harvard chum, who 
 recognized me. They thought I was done for, and I 
 was left lying, for the sake of air, near the opening 
 of the tent, or hut or whatever it was that served as a
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 135 
 
 hospital. Lying there I saw the surgeons and nurses. 
 The fight was still on, and it was Rundown. The 
 nurses were anxious to go forward. Between the 
 thunders of the artillery and the charges of the 
 cavalry, they and I could hear the cries and groans of 
 the wounded and dying Half dazed as I was, through 
 loss of blood, I yet recognized Adelaide and Fanny 
 Seton, another Washington society girl in their 
 nurse's uniform. 
 
 " Several times the group of helpers started for- 
 ward only to be turned back by an aide. At last 
 Adelaide, picking up a twig that had been cut from a 
 tree, and tying her handkerchief to it, started away 
 towards the clouds of smol e and stench of blood, in 
 opposition to the whole party. I heard her say : " I 
 cannot bear it; I can better die with the poor 
 soldiers! " She carried her little flag of truce, and I, 
 more dead than alive fancied for a moment that an 
 odor of white roses was blown from it across my 
 face." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax sat listening, so absorbed that she 
 was barely conscious of the far-away look in her 
 husband's eyes. He continued: 
 
 " In the other hand she had a full basket." 
 
 " Well, of course she was sent back? " 
 
 " No, she was not. That night was a long one for 
 
 me, and, when I had strength enough to think, I 
 
 thought it would be my last. I slept and waked and 
 
 knew that Dick Hall was with me several times. I 
 
 knew when he hung up a curtain or blanket to shut 
 
 out the cold. After some time, a nurse came and 
 
 took the blanket down, and it was in the gray of 
 
 morning. Then I saw a figure, at first it seemed
 
 136 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 only a wavering shadow, a little denser than the gray 
 mist, coming up the slope. But the shadow grew to 
 be a woman with a basket. She entered at the other 
 door of the long compartment of tents and dropped 
 into a chair where I could see her face. It was white 
 and old. I heard Fanny Seton exclaim: "Oh Ade- 
 laide! we were sure you were lost, taken prisoner, 
 or killed! " 'Killed Fanny? Oh I was never alive 
 before in my life! Look at all these things! taken 
 from the poor boys! They must every one be sent 
 home. Here is my book full of messages. Many of 
 the wounded are being cared for, many poor boys 
 need no care ! ' 
 
 " She had handkerchiefs, photographs, buttons, 
 locks of hair; all the little mementoes that parting 
 lovers exchange, all the things that mother love re- 
 members. Some one brought food, but there sat 
 Adelaide, writing out the messages, folding parcels 
 that were to carry hope into some homes, shut out 
 the blessed light from others. More than once her 
 hands, coming in contact with her dress left a red 
 stain on parcel or letter. I watched her as she sat 
 there, pale, heavy-eyed, her hair braided smoothly, 
 compactly, her dark woollen gown so soiled one could 
 barely recognize the material. She seemed the pity- 
 ing angel of Peace assuaging as she could, the cruel- 
 ties of War. I recalled her as I had known her, the 
 gayest, the most sought for in any assemblage. She 
 had always the surplus of partners at the dance; the 
 readiest wit, and the most charming costumes. 
 
 "At last her task seemed to be finished. Some one 
 not in sight urged her to go and rest. She answered. 
 'Yes I've finished/ She rose, and from the bosom of
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 137 
 
 her dress she drew a little circular leathern case, 
 opened it and pressed it to her lips; then, reeled and 
 fell forward to the ground The little case closed in 
 falling from her hand and rolled against my pallet." 
 
 "Ah ! I suppose you had the satisfaction of picking 
 it up and finding your own picture there, and our 
 baby barely a month old at that time ;" and Mrs. Fair- 
 fax's face was not handsome under the sneer. 
 
 Without the slightest change in his voice Fairfax 
 continued: " I did pick up the case, and I did open 
 it. Not honorable I admit, but I'm confessing all my 
 sins in this line. I saw the face of a little child. 
 Whose child it was I needed not to be told. I called 
 one of the nurses and gave it to her, telling her the 
 other nurse had dropped it. 
 
 " Now you know of the one time, or the twice that 
 I have seen Adelaide since we ceased to be husband 
 and wife. We quarreled because of the quarrel be- 
 tween the North and the South. There was nothing 
 personal in our disagreement, at least there was not 
 on my side, and if Adelaide found something in me 
 that she could not tolerate, and made my states' 
 rights ideas her cause for a separation, she kept it to 
 herself. She lived up to her principles, I to mine. 
 Now, are you satisfied? " 
 
 " I shall never be satisfied. A woman is a fool to 
 marry a divorced man, and a man who has once been 
 married has no right to ask another woman to many 
 him while his first wife lives." 
 
 "You're talking very childishly. You certainly 
 had it in your power to refuse to marry the divorced 
 man. If I had kept you in ignorance, or had in the 
 least tried to deceive you, there might be some reason
 
 138 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 for these reproaches after nearly a dozen years. When 
 you and I were married, I was as free to marry, under 
 the law, as if Adelaide had died." 
 
 " No matter, she had not died. She was living 
 and is still living, and you've petted and caressed her 
 just as you have me. She was all to you that I have 
 been." 
 
 " Well, dear me, Marcia, hadn't I a right to love 
 her? If I had had no impulse to pet and caress her 
 I shouldn't have married her; and please apply that 
 remark to yourself, in whatever degree our years to- 
 gether will justify. Adelaide was my wife, and as 
 you know yourself, one of the loveliest women the 
 good God ever made." 
 
 " You sit there and talk to me in that way ! " and 
 Mrs. Fairfax sprang from her chair. " Do you think 
 I am made of stone that I can bear it? " 
 
 Fairfax kept his seat. Not a muscle of his face 
 showed that he was at all moved. 
 
 " No, I am sure you are not made of stone. I 
 know you are flesh and blood. In view of your 
 watchfulness of me all these years, I know you are of 
 the wise flesh and blood that knows the average man 
 and woman are not to be trusted. Still, I would 
 stake my life upon your honor as to the letter of the 
 law." 
 
 " What do you mean? " she gasped, her white face 
 working convulsively. 
 
 " Wait a minute and I'll tell you." 
 
 He left the parlor, entering his own dressing-room. 
 She heard him fit a key, unfold some paper, and then 
 he came in with a card photograph in his hand. It 
 was yellow with age, soiled and stained. He came
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 139 
 
 and stood by her without touching her, and held the 
 picture for her to see. It was her own. Along the 
 lower margin, written in clear black letters were the 
 words, Meus Amo. 
 
 " Where where did you get it? " she whis- 
 pered with white lips. She made no effort to take the 
 picture. Her hands hung limp and helpless. 
 
 "Where did I get it? Where do you suppose? 
 Where should I get my wife's picture? I took it from 
 under a dead soldier's cheek, pressed there by his one 
 unshattered hand. It was at the battle of the Wilder- 
 ness. At that time our baby was about six months 
 old. Other things about Jack Saunders, I sent to 
 his mother in your native town." 
 
 " Why didn't you tell me? " 
 
 "Tell you! When I asked you to become my 
 wife you said not a word of a man who carried your 
 picture with an inscription like that. I cannot tell 
 what prompted me to preserve it. By the time I came 
 home I had well-nigh forgotten it. Prax put it 
 away, supposing it really belonged to me. Had it 
 not been for your constant espionage I should have 
 let it pass without a thought. But, you watched me 
 continually. It was months before I understood you. 
 Then I wished I had been as reticent as yourself. 
 But, I had gone a step further than had you and Saun- 
 ders. The law and the church, and our mutual friends 
 had sanctioned my endearments of Adelaide. You 
 and this man were lovers. I have no doubt but that 
 he has kissed your lips a thousand times. He has 
 compared your eyes to forget-me-nots and closed 
 them with kisses; " 
 
 "Jasper! hush! will you drive me mad?"
 
 140 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 "With regret? Don't deny it. Come, this is a 
 two-handed game, and I think honors are easy. As 
 I said before, in the letter of the law, you were a 
 maiden when you became my wife. In your heart 
 you were married to this soldier whose last thought 
 was of you, whose last strength was expended in 
 pressing your picture to his face. You had given 
 to this soldier your word, your caresses. There had 
 been no quarrel, no annulment of vows. The law had 
 bound Adelaide and me, the law set us apart, and we 
 have never met since. When you married me, you 
 knew that Saunders was living. I don't know when, 
 if ever, you knew what had become of him. I doubt 
 if you ever even notified him of your marriage." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax had sunk into her chair, her arms 
 thrown over a table, and her head resting upon them. 
 
 " It is not wholly the ring and the word of the 
 priest that makes marriage. These formalities but 
 sanction ties already made. Ceremonials came in 
 with civilization. Marriage, pure and simple is one 
 of nature's first laws. But, there's no use multiplying 
 words. It's foolish and worse than foolish for you 
 to worry yourself into hysteria about this boy of 
 Adelaide's.'" 
 
 " Yours as well. What would I care if she had a 
 dozen children if they were not yours too ! " 
 
 "True, mine as well, and this is the first time I 
 ever, by spoken word acknowledged the child. I 
 wish never to speak of him again, to you nor to any 
 one. I have no interest in him, no curiousity con- 
 cerning him. Since my marriage with you, I have 
 lived as if I had never seen Adelaide Francis. Even 
 in my sleep in my dreams, I have been true to you 
 and our child,"
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 141 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Through the long wakeful hours of that night 
 Marcia Fairfax wondered what would be her hus- 
 band's attitude towards her in the future. She did 
 not for one moment believe that their relations would 
 be the same as they had been. She could not hold 
 herself entirely blameless, even with her distorted 
 ideas in the premises, and yet, it was just a trifle dif- 
 ficult for her to see her love affair with Saunders as 
 anything more than an episode. True, they had ex- 
 pected to marry. Colonel Fairfax had not in the least 
 overstated the matter of their manners with each 
 other. Like many other very rigidly respectable 
 folks Mrs. Fairfax never considered that anything 
 between men and women was to be reckoned but 
 actual marriage, either by law or nature. She drew 
 the line at the ultimate. She but faintly understood 
 the feeling that had prompted her husband to keep 
 the finding of her photograph in secrecy and silence ; 
 to allow Prax to lay it away as a valued souvenir of 
 honey-moon and battlefield. That he had kept no 
 secrets from her concerning his first marriage, she 
 was very sure, and she resented even the idea that he 
 should ever have a thought of that lovely girl wife and 
 her child. 
 
 Yet in selfish contradiction of her own require- 
 ments, she had never mentioned her engagement to 
 Saunders, and now, in the darkness and stillness she 
 pressed her burning cheeks into her pillow at the
 
 142 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 thought of what he had known all these years, and of 
 his reading of her love affair. She felt she would 
 never be able to meet his eyes again in the uncom- 
 promising light of day. She found, however, that in 
 this quarrel, as in all the years that she had lived as 
 the wife of Jasper Fairfax, he was the urbane, gentle, 
 lofty minded man. He had not invited the quarrel 
 and he would not entertain it one moment longer 
 than was necessary. He was the Jove of his house. 
 He let loose his thunderbolts and destroyed the 
 noxious vapors. He swept away the ruins with a 
 breath so that in peace and serenity he might rest 
 with his family and friends. 
 
 She fell asleep when the morning sounds were 
 wakening in tree and field. Some hours later, as in a 
 dream she heard Zoe's voice on the stairs: 
 
 " Papa," she called, " Papa, are you and mama 
 coming? breakfast's ready." 
 
 There was a quick, light step, and she saw her hus- 
 band pass her door with uplifted finger. 
 
 " Softly, daughter," he said, " mama's sleeping. 
 You know she was not well last night. I'm ready, 
 I'll go down with you," and taking the child's face 
 between his hands, he kissed her, once, twice, three 
 times: "One for sick mama, one for myself, and one 
 for little girl." Then the two went down the stairs 
 stepping lightly, talking softly. 
 
 Later, when the husband and wife met, and always, 
 there was kindness and protection in his every look 
 and tone. He seemed to have forgotten the quarrel, 
 but she knew he had not. She felt that the spring of 
 this faultless behaviour was his sense of duty; that in 
 his Herculean strength of character he was standing
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 143 
 
 between her and her own puerility. She was excused 
 and tolerated. She was but a disappointing incident 
 in his life. She knew that she would no longer dare 
 to exercise her vigilance over his coming and going; 
 that she could never again mask her jealousy as ex- 
 acting love of his society, nor could there be any more 
 playful allusions to straying fancy. She had closed 
 this chapter of her life. Her childish tyranny, her 
 unwomanly distrust, her inane unreason had con- 
 spired to pull down the fairest portion of her house 
 about her head. 
 
 Through all the years since her marriage she had 
 cultivated what is least lovely in a woman's character. 
 She had done her work secretly and called it by a fair 
 name, but, at last her web had been broken by her 
 own hand. She might struggle in the tangled mesh 
 of threads, she could never undo them. Forever 
 they must remain a tangible, delicate, impassable 
 barrier between herself and her husband. 
 
 The letter that she had used as an instrument to 
 force this quarrel was left on the table where she had 
 laid it, nor was it ever alluded to again between them; 
 but when Mrs. Fairfax was alone with her brother 
 she gave him both the letter and the story of the 
 quarrel. 
 
 At once Westlake was full of advice and over- 
 flowing with what he termed logical conclusions. 
 This visit to Washington was for some hidden pur- 
 pose. They must double their vigilance, and, but 
 his sister cut him short: 
 
 " No George, I never can, I never dare mention 
 the matter again. Look at that;" and she laid the 
 soiled photograph on his knee.
 
 144 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " Well! What has that to do with it? Meus Amo. 
 This looks as if it had been through the wars. Did 
 the Colonel carry it? and has he sugared the bitter 
 pill he means to give you some day through Ade- 
 laide's boy by a bit of sentimentality? " 
 
 " No. For once you are mistaken. Jasper is the 
 Confederate soldier who sent Jack's things to his 
 mother. He took this from Jack, too, but, kept 
 it." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax was staring straight into her brother's 
 eyes, and her face was one red glow from the wavy 
 crown of hair to the collar around her slender neck. 
 
 " That beats hell." 
 
 Westlake took up the card and studied the pretty; 
 coquettish face, repeating the inscription. 
 
 " I say, Marcia, this was a pretty rough dose for 
 the Colonel. You had never mentioned Jack to him?" 
 
 "No. How could I?" 
 
 "Well, sure enough? Jack Saunders was a good 
 man, as men go, but he was not to be mentioned in 
 the same day, in any sense, with the Colonel." 
 
 " That's just what I thought." 
 
 "And of course when you had the chance to marry 
 Fairfax it's a good thing you didn't allow any sickly 
 sentiment, any namby-pamby rememberance of 
 plighted vows to interfere with your good fortune.'' 
 
 " I think, though I have many faults, my worst 
 enemy never could accuse me of undue sentiment." 
 
 " Still, as matters have turned out, it would have 
 been better if you had told the Colonel of Jack, as he 
 told you of Adelaide. The cases are not quite parallel, 
 but, his sense of honor, you know." 
 
 " Yes. I know all about his sense of honor. He
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 145 
 
 would have protected me, at any cost to himself, to 
 whatever place I wanted to go. There would never 
 have been one word more of marriage between us." 
 
 " Well it was the devil's own trap for him to find 
 this photograph. Did you know of the inscription?" 
 
 " Yes ; that is why, whenever I thought of it, I 
 
 felt anxious to know what had become of it. But, 
 
 if it had fallen into any other hands in the world it 
 
 would have made no great difference to me." 
 
 "It's strange he never told you of it before, isn't it?" 
 
 " No, I think not; this is the first quarrel we ever 
 had." 
 
 " Well, dear me, Marcia, I see no reason for taking 
 the matter so seriously. No doubt the Colonel has 
 had a dozen love affairs to your one. There was that 
 girl Redfield's daughter whose ghost scares the 
 darkies " 
 
 " Yes, I know all about that. Jasper has often 
 said that he has done many wild, inexcusable things; 
 all the things that young men do. He has never 
 pretended to be a Sir Galahad; and how often have 
 we both heard him declare that he wants no better 
 proof of one's guilt than an everlasting harping on 
 innocence of some particular sin. He condemns me 
 by my watchfulness of him. He said the other 
 evening that he quite understood how I came to know 
 that the average man and woman are not to be 
 trusted." 
 
 "Ha! Ha! Ha!" roared Westlake. "I tell you 
 sister he's a pretty sharp philosopher." 
 
 " Yes, so I find. If I could make any reasonable 
 excuse I wouldn't go to Washington, nor allow him 
 to."
 
 146 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 "Oh but you must go. Of course you can't hang 
 on to the Colonel all the time. You'll have to 
 lengthen your tether, and not pull very hard on your 
 end of it; but I'll look after him a little." 
 
 " You may be sure he if wants to see Adelaide and 
 the boy, think of her having the assurance to name 
 him Jasper! " 
 
 " Yes, and that points to claiming a good big slice 
 of Dad's wealth some day." 
 
 " Well you may be sure if he means to see them 
 he'll tell you to go about your own business." 
 
 " Probably he will. Whether he tells me or not I 
 think I know my business, and for the future a good 
 part of it will be to look out for the interests of my 
 niece. I'll try to see that her patrimony is not cut 
 into halves for the benefit of her half-brother."
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 147 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 It was a merry house-full that Mrs. Cogswell had 
 gathered about her. All married people, excepting 
 Westlake, young enough to enjoy being free for 
 awhile from home and business and professional 
 cares, old enough to be safe from the glamour and 
 falsity of fashionable society. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax was considered the guest of honor, 
 as she was not a born Kentuckian and she was 
 jocularly made the recipient of the most lavish at- 
 tention from her host. The continuous round of 
 sight-seeing, parties, receptions and calls, effectually 
 covered any estrangement that might, otherwise have 
 been observed between her and her husband. In 
 this circle, however, there must have been something 
 unmistakable before any one of the women would 
 have acknowledged a foible in Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 White-haired Mrs. Cogswell often declared that 
 he would say as much with his eyes, a lift of his hand 
 or an inclination of his head, as most men would take 
 all day to speak, and make fools of themselves at last. 
 
 Sometimes he wondered how it would have been 
 on this visit if he and Marcia had not quarrelled. 
 Would she have insisted on keeping her hand on his 
 arm from morning till night? and how would she 
 have managed to do her usual sentry duty without 
 making him as well as herself ridiculous in the eyes 
 of their friends? It would have been difficult for him
 
 148 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 to believe how seldom his wife dismissed from her 
 mind, that other wife and her son. 
 
 In visiting the Governmental Departments where 
 women were employed, she scanned every graceful 
 figure, every handsome face. She knew that since 
 the beginning of the war, ex-Senator Francis had 
 been a comparatively poor man, and she thought it 
 more than probable that Adelaide must be employed 
 for the maintenance of the family. The fact that the 
 boy was a Senate page bore out this surmise. 
 
 On the days when Mrs. Cogswell and her guests 
 visited the two legislative houses, Mrs. Fairfax was 
 much more interested in watching the boys who came 
 and went, than she was in any of the proceedings of 
 the law makers. The brisk, trim, boy figures drew 
 her eyes even when her hostess pointed out men 
 famous for wit, eloquence, or state-craft. She was so 
 absorbed in this one idea, she felt that if she failed to 
 see and recognize the boy who bore her husband's 
 name, her visit would be a vexatious failure. Seeing 
 him, she was sure she could guess whether or not he 
 would fascinate his father in case they should meet. 
 If she could see him privately she would not hesitate, 
 indeed she would even take some pains to question 
 him. He could give no guess, neither could his 
 mother, what friend of their better days was interested 
 in them. Jasper said he had never seen the boy, nor 
 had he met the mother since their separation; but, 
 did he not contribute to their support? 
 
 The husband and wife were alone together but 
 little. When this happened, however, Mrs. Fairfax 
 was sure there was a hint of reserve in her husband's 
 manner. She could not believe that their quarrel
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 149 
 
 and the cause of it, were not as constantly present in 
 his mind as both were in her own. There was nothing 
 she could complain of, no least chance for an allusion 
 to the quarrel. To all appearances he never went 
 anywhere alone. Young Dr. Dome and Philip 
 Jerome were jovial, pleasant men, and they, with 
 Fairfax and Westlake were constantly going about 
 together. Fairfax and Dome were especially friends 3 
 as their school and college days were followed by a 
 year of travel together, and all these years were 
 cemented by companionship through the war from 
 start to finish. 
 
 In truth Mrs. Fairfax was ready, at any cost to 
 avoid further disagreement with her husband. Some- 
 times in reviewing the whole situation she wondered, 
 pettishly, why it was that with all the unmistakable 
 blessings of her lot there must always be something 
 to make her unhappy. She was a long time in 
 learning to accept her pot of odorous ointment and 
 submit gracefully to the fact that an insect had been 
 lured to its death therein. 
 
 In her girlhood she had had many admirers, but 
 there was always something wanting. Jack Saunders 
 was handsome, and possessed of that nameless 
 fascination that drew a girl's heart to her eyes; but, 
 he was poor, and had he lived through the war he 
 would have remained poor to his last day. When 
 he was ready to march away to tent, field and more 
 than probable death, he had pleaded with Marcia to 
 become his wife before they parted. This, her father 
 would not consent to ; and, it may be said that Marcia 
 only referred the matter to him to shirk the disagree- 
 able task of saying no to her lover. She had seen
 
 150 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 numbers of girls bind themselves, 'till death us do 
 part/ to boys in blue just before they marched away; 
 but her blonde head held a cool, calculating brain. 
 There was no place beneath her faultless coiffure for 
 cheap sentiment, foolish romance. She fully agreed 
 with her father. He had been a soldier in the Mexi- 
 can war. Tent life was an old story to him and not 
 a pleasant, not a heroic one. His counsel was: 
 
 " There is no romance in the actualities of war. 
 There is no sentiment in any place where men are 
 herded together free from the purifying restraints of 
 family life. The barbarian soon crops out. The 
 animal soon rises to the surface, the soul disappears. 
 If a lawless action presents itself there is no thought 
 of turning away. Instead, it is 'Ho for a good time! 
 Tomorrow we may be dead ! ' Men in these situations 
 are only held in check by fear of detection and punish- 
 ment. Their morals are measured by the vigilance 
 of superior officers. Superior officers have no 
 standard of morals at all. Even in home life self 
 denial is a rare trait in men. In camp life it is not at 
 all. Now, my girl, let this soldier lover of yours wait 
 until a year after he comes home from the war. Let 
 him have time to become purified in a degree, physic- 
 ally, if not morally before you marry him." 
 
 To this advice Marcia Westlake listened at- 
 tentively, followed obediently, until But, then her 
 father was dead; her brother not to be found either 
 alive or dead. There was Colonel Fairfax. She 
 had known him in society, had admired him as she 
 might admire the almost husband of another 
 woman. He was a man of wealth and culture. He 
 was far above her in the social scale. He offered her
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 1 5 1 
 
 marriage, at once, as protection. She would become, 
 instead of an orphan, friendless, penniless, with a 
 distant possibility of wedding a Union soldier as poor 
 as herself, the wife of a Confederate officer of high 
 grade in the army, and owning one of the finest 
 estates in Kentucky. If he fell in battle, she, as his 
 widow would be amply provided for. Then too, how 
 gently lover-like he was! He approached her as if 
 she was a queen. She thought that for once fate was 
 kind, munificent. And yet, what could she say to 
 Jack Saunders? If she could only be sure that he 
 would never know what had become of her it would 
 be a comfort. She did not wish his death, but it was 
 the chance of war. When she heard the song with 
 the refrain: 
 
 "And yet, and yet, we cannot forget 
 How many brave boys must fall;" 
 
 she always thought of Jack. If she had heard of his 
 death she might have sighed; then remembered his 
 worship of herself, and smiled. She would have 
 told herself, 'all women who are not frights have such 
 experiences.' 
 
 When, after several years of secret uneasiness she 
 at last heard of his death, her momentary feeling of 
 safety was cut short by the sowing of the seeds of 
 distrust in regard to Adelaide and her son. How 
 these seeds had grown and flourished she fully re- 
 alized now that she had time to think, away from the 
 constant society of her husband. What would the 
 harvest be? 
 
 She recalled the feeling of rest and security
 
 152 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 that came to her on her entrance into the Fairfax 
 home. Whatever happened now, she had wealth and 
 position. That her husband was in battle against 
 the Government, that he was in position to have killed 
 her father or brother, or to have been killed by them, 
 troubled her not one whit. She made a lofty virtue 
 of the necessity of her position. She said to her soul, 
 'my husband is an honorable man. His cause is my 
 cause; his people are my people. I will live and die 
 in his inherited home, and my ashes will mingle with 
 the dead-and-dust generations of Fairfax. There 
 will be no more worry and fret for the where-withal 
 to supply the elegancies of life. No more beating 
 about the frontiers of society. Old things have passed 
 away, and the future dawns over the hills of Fairfax 
 Farms through a golden haze.' 
 
 Remembering these thoughts and sensations, still 
 she strained her eyes continually that she might, 
 preadventure catch a glimpse of a fair woman she 
 scornfully acknowledged as her rival, of a boy who 
 looked like her husband and who bore his name. 
 
 Driving about the magnificent streets, in churches, 
 theatres, at the receptions at the White House, al- 
 ways watchful, always thinking of this woman and 
 her son. What might they not be doing? Where 
 might she not see them? 
 
 But, the days went by, the weeks passed. She 
 dared not inquire of Senator Cogswell if he had ever 
 accepted the invitation of the boy and called upon 
 his grandfather. Of this one thing that filled her 
 thoughts she dared not speak one word. Long after- 
 wards when this visit was casually mentioned by 
 some one who had been with her or by others who
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 153 
 
 had known of it, it brought back to her a blurred, 
 kaleidoscopic nightmare; a series of imaginary meet- 
 ings with the other Mrs. Fairfax and her handsome 
 son, Jasper,
 
 154 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 "Who is that big black fellow talking to Mrs. 
 Cogswell? " 
 
 Fairfax asked this question of his host one evening 
 during the visit in Washington. The parlors were 
 full, but, " that big black fellow " was the most notic- 
 able man in the company. 
 
 "Ha! Ha! Why, Colonel, one would think you 
 were in one of the old-time markets, and speaking of 
 a chattel." 
 
 " Upon my word he looks like one." 
 
 " Yes, and he has the manner too. Look at him. 
 Every motion, every gesture is familiar to us who are 
 accustomed to the race, and, more especially to the 
 mixtures. I must introduce you to the Honorable 
 John Burgoyne." 
 
 "Oh that's Burgoyne?" 
 
 " Yes, just home from Madrid." 
 
 " Do you suppose he ever knows what people say 
 of his personnel?" 
 
 "Oh certainly. He professes to consider it a great 
 joke." 
 
 " What account does he give of himself? " 
 
 "As far as I know he claims relationship with the 
 Burgoynes of New Orleans; but, they supported the 
 Confederacy, every mother's son of them. This 
 fellow, at the close of the war was colonel of a colored 
 regiment, and, in the round-up seven or eight years
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 155 
 
 ago, the president rewarded his bravery and loyalty 
 with the consulship." 
 
 " If he's a Burgoyne it's a left-handed relationship 
 now be sure of that. He has simply taken the name 
 of the family he belonged to." 
 
 " Yes, I've no doubt of it, at all ; but, we must not 
 be too hard on him. He's looking about for a mild, 
 healthful climate; You see that pale, frail, washed- 
 out blonde woman there in the corner? " 
 
 " Yes, his wife I reckon? " 
 
 "Yes. She's a Northern woman. Her residence 
 abroad has not agreed with her, and " 
 
 " I should think a residence with that big brute 
 anywhere would disagree with her." 
 
 "Oh tut, tut, Jasper," and Cogswell laughed silent- 
 ly, "don't talk that way. Colonel Burgoyne has half 
 the women in Washington at his feet ; and, there ! see 
 that? There's your own fair true love bowing to him 
 and going away on his arm." 
 
 "Oh I suppose he's a man that the average woman 
 would admire and be drawn to, simply through his 
 excess of animal magnetism." 
 
 " Well, as I was saying, he's talked to me quite 
 confidingly about finding a home. He must have a 
 climate that is mild the year round. Mrs. Burgoyne 
 and my wife are friends, and wife always finishes her 
 talks about them by saying 'I'm very sorry for poor 
 Mrs. Burgoyne,' though why she's sorry, she never 
 explains. So it has come to be arranged, that at the 
 close of the session, when I'm at home to chaperone 
 the Honorable John, he's going to visit Bellaire with 
 his wife, and, if they can suit themselves they will buy 
 a home."
 
 156 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " Well, of course if he has money, it will be a good 
 thing for the town, but, by the Lord I shall despise 
 to hob-nob with him s cially." 
 
 " Now see there! What a difference in tastes! " as 
 Mrs. Fairfax came into view on the arm of Burgoyne, 
 he all flattering attention, she all smiles and vivacity. 
 
 Fairfax laughed. " Marcia's very polite. 
 
 Then Mrs. Fairfax was seen to present her brother 
 to Burgoyne, and the two men were together for 
 some time. 
 
 Next morning at breakfast, not one of the guests 
 who had attended Mrs. Cogswell's "At Home " was 
 more talked of than Colonel Burgoyne. The women 
 declared him strikingly handsome, gallant, knightly, 
 in short, manly perfection. The men, while admitting 
 that his appearance would win for him a second 
 glance in a crowd, that his manner was suavity itself, 
 yet knew him to be superficial in education, un- 
 principled in business, insincere in friendship. 
 
 When the discussion had about worn itself out, the 
 host, from his end of the table said quietly : " Here's 
 Fairfax, still as a mouse ; but he said to me last night 
 that he was sure the Honorable John's a nigger." 
 
 Then it was "Oh Colonel!" and "Oh Fairfax!" 
 and "Oh Jasper! " from all sides of the table. 
 
 Fairfax laughed and sipped his coffee. When the 
 tumult had subsided he said : " I think I know the 
 marks and the Honorable John has them all." 
 
 " I tell you," said Westlake, " I find it a most con- 
 siderate proceeding, when hearing an extravagant, 
 statement, to make liberal allowance for the speaker's 
 ruling passion."
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 157 
 
 " But that isn't allowed in law cases," from Mrs. 
 Jerome. 
 
 " No, the law leaves no margin for idiosyncracies. 
 It is the iron bedstead that lops off a head that is too 
 long and stretches a figure that is too short. Prob- 
 ably some of you know that brother Fairfax has a 
 mania for discovering the black drop." 
 
 "And brother Westlake has a pet word. If he finds 
 a man knows what he's talking about, he calls it 
 mania. He uses this word as doctors do malaria. 
 Whatever they don't recognize they call by this long 
 suffering name." 
 
 " Take care, take care, old man," from Dr. 
 Dome. "You don't want to smoothe your best friend 
 the wrong way." 
 
 "Oh I know how to smoothe you Henry, and we've 
 known each other too long to skip the truth when we 
 come to it." 
 
 "That's right Colonel," from Mrs. Dome. "I 
 think next to housekeeping, medicine is the most in- 
 exact science in the world." 
 
 The conversation drifted away to old time practices 
 in medicine, and Doctor Dome told of some old 
 medical books he had picked up in Europe as curiosi- 
 ties. Mrs. Cogswell regaled her guests with remin- 
 iscences of housekeeping when she was young, and 
 told stories she had had from her mother and her 
 grandmother. 
 
 The house-full of Kentuckians, upon each social 
 occasion, witnessed a repetition of a part of that 
 evening's experience. Colonel Burgoyne was the 
 most popular man in society. Wherever there were 
 the fairest, sprightliest, most faultlessly gowned
 
 158 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 women; where ever smiles were gayest, eyes bright- 
 est, badinage most sparkling there in the midst was 
 the ex-consul. It may be said too that wherever 
 men stood aloof with smiles on their lips that came 
 dangerously near being sneers, wherever there were 
 covert whispers and significant broken sentences; 
 then in that vicinity might be seen the towering fig- 
 ure, the dark, sensual face of John Burgoyne. 
 
 " I suppose, after a few years," Fairfax said to 
 Cogswell on an occasion of this kind, " we'll not 
 only tolerate such men as Burgoyne, but the tar 
 black, as well." 
 
 "Oh no; oh no. The black race will never gain 
 more than it has now. In fact I think prejudice in 
 the north will grow instead of disappearing. The 
 blacks will die out in time. The death rate in the 
 south is much greater now than it was a few years 
 ago. The blacks know nothing of the actualities of 
 life. They are free and they are voters, but they 
 know as little how to use these rights as a three-years 
 child. They're going to have a rough time of it. I'm 
 afraid that by the end of the years required for their 
 evolution from serfdom to intelligent, thrifty, self- 
 respecting freedom there will be but few left to tell the 
 story of the war in their behalf." 
 
 " But, the political wire-pullers are not going to 
 wait for the slow sure process of evolution. There 
 are votes to be bought now, cheap, by the million. 
 No matter what we know the blacks to be, they are 
 now a potent factor in our scheme of government." 
 
 " Yes, that's true. We of the South must stand by 
 each other. We must insist, that, while as forgiven 
 rebels we are taken back into the fold of the Union,
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 159 
 
 we will tolerate nothing but a white government. 
 It'll be hard lines for the nigger who aspires to office 
 in the South." 
 
 " Look at Burgoyne. He seems to find his lines 
 in pleasant places." 
 
 "Ah but he poses as a white man; as a loyal, per- 
 secuted Union Southerner." 
 
 " Even if his pretentions were true, his inferiority 
 as a man cannot be denied. It is the party that claims 
 the darkey voter that also claims him; and see to 
 what a height he has climbed." 
 
 " He didn't climb, he was boosted. It was one of 
 the chances of war. I am older than you. I've 
 noticed that war and high water floats many odious 
 things to the surface. Many things ride on the top- 
 most wave that should be buried out of sight to rot." 
 
 " I've wondered much what foreigners think of us, 
 when such a man as Burgoyne represents us at their 
 ceremonious Courts." 
 
 "You've been across a year or two, how did it 
 seem then? " 
 
 "We had better representatives when I was over; 
 fine, scholarly men, men that any nation might be 
 proud of." 
 
 " Yes, of course. Well, as I said before, the war 
 played queer antics. Wars always do. They're like 
 cyclones. They whirl everything in their track into 
 chaos. You know a strong wind will take a half rot- 
 ton log of wood, or the carcass of a dead dog much 
 higher than it will a marble or bronze statue. Fre- 
 quently the most worthless men and things are lodged 
 by wars and cyclones in the highest places."
 
 160 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Of all the new-comers to Bellaire since the close of 
 the war, no family received a warmer welcome than 
 did the Burgoynes. A fine, old but impoverished 
 place was purchased, and put in repair. It lay on the 
 opposite side of the town from Fairfax Farms. 
 
 Colonel Burgoyne was welcome because he had a 
 family about him. He added to the social life of the 
 place. He was welcome because he had a long, full 
 purse and he used money lavishly. He employed 
 many servants and paid them well. All provision 
 dealers were glad to receive orders signed John 
 Burgoyne. 
 
 Mrs. Burgoyne was sweet, gentle, womanly; of the 
 clinging vine type. She seemed to be always appeal- 
 ing to some one for help. If she talked to a woman 
 friend she clasped her hand and hung upon it. If 
 she stood by her husband she leaned against him, or 
 folded her long, characterless hands about his arm. 
 If one of her black-eyed, curly-haired, yellow-skinned 
 children happened to be near, its shoulders were rests 
 for her hands. She wavered when she walked alone, 
 and one never could tell to what point she was going. 
 She never deliberately seated herself, nor seemed to 
 have any purpose in rising. She wilted into a chair 
 and swayed like wind-blown smoke in leaving it. 
 
 From the first, she and Mrs. Fairfax were the 
 warmest of friends. Westlake and Burgoyne frat- 
 ernized in the happiest fashion, and there was much
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 161 
 
 business going on between them. The swarthy ex- 
 consul had the most implicit confidence in the ability 
 of the tall, pink-and-white lawyer. Burgoyne af- 
 fected the manners of the European aristocrat. He 
 toiled not on his farm neither did he have a business 
 nor a profession; yet, there was no shade of snobbish- 
 ness, no offensive imitation of the high-class patron 
 in his intercourse with professional and business men. 
 His manners were conciliatory. He seemed anxious 
 only to please. He never provoked discussion, 
 touched all subjects lightly, and watched the face of 
 his listener while he was speaking. 
 
 Colonel Fairfax met his advances, in Washington, 
 and later in Bellaire, politely. He was not even 
 chilly as he could be at times, but he was not cordial. 
 He gave no cause for complaint, but he gave nothing 
 else. When the Herculean ex-colonel of a colored 
 regiment in the Federal army effusively offered his 
 hand, the ex-colonel who had battled and still sighed 
 for the Lost Cause imitated the action: He gave his 
 hand, but, nothing more. 
 
 When Mrs. Fairfax or her brother would say, 
 " Jasper," or " Colonel," you don't like Colonel Bur- 
 goyne; I think it very strange;" the answer was, 
 " Some men there are, love not a gaping pig. I have 
 no special dislike of pigs, but, I confess there is some- 
 thing extremely repulsive to me in this John 
 Burgoyne." 
 
 To Mrs.Burgoyne he was all gentle deference. One 
 day after handing her to her carriage at his own door, 
 and she had driven away, he said to his wife and to 
 Westlake : " I wonder if that baa-lamb of a woman 
 knows the origin of John Burgoyne."
 
 1 62 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax answered, "Why Jasper, she loves 
 him devotedly. If she knows, or if she doesn't it 
 makes no difference." 
 
 Westlake laughed, declaring. " Colonel you're 
 clean daft! I don't believe Burgoyne has any more 
 Negro blood than I have. He's probably a mixture 
 of Spanish and French Creole. In the gulf states 
 there are very few fair complexions." 
 
 " It's not alone his inky complexion. I've known 
 many undeniably white people with as dark skin as 
 his, but there's that peculiar tinge, both in his skin 
 and in the white of his eyes, as well as the unmis- 
 takable kink in his hair. Look at the children too, 
 in spite of their fair mother; veritable pickaninnies. 
 Why, I've seen Mrs. Burgoyne look at them as if 
 she couldn't understand why they should call her 
 mother. She looks," and Fairfax laughed, " as I 
 fancy a ring-dove might at a nest full of young cow- 
 birds that she had unwittingly hatched while her own 
 eggs have been tumbled out and worms have eaten 
 them." 
 
 There was much going back and forth between the 
 Fairfax and Burgoyne families. Zoe found the brood 
 of children with their foreign manners and their chat- 
 tering of Spanish, then breaking into English, or 
 making a queer mixture of the two languages, most 
 interesting. The oldest of the five, Sally, was a year 
 or more younger than Zoe but looked older. The 
 two little girls grew to be inseparable. A very pretty 
 picture they made. Zoe, the fairest of blondes, with 
 pale golden hair, and Sally with her olive skin, heavy 
 dark hair, and flashing black eyes. 
 
 One day, just as her father and uncle came home
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 1 63 
 
 from business, Zoe came up the drive on her pony. 
 She had had, as she expressed it, "A most beautiful 
 gallop with Sally." The little maid's cheeks were 
 pink, her eyes like turquoise. The " beautiful gallop" 
 had blown her hair into a shimmering cloud about 
 her shoulders. Her father watched her admiringly 
 as she gave a full account of the afternoon. When 
 she had finished that, and her praises of Sally, he said : 
 
 " Dear me Zoe, I'm glad Sally isn't a boy. If she 
 was, I'm afraid, within a year or two you'd want to 
 marry and leave mama and me, entirely." 
 
 "Oh, Sally and I don't want to marry; not now, 
 anyway. We don't know who she'll marry, but I'm 
 going to marry her cousin Guido Castlemere." 
 
 "Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed Westlake. "Oh Col- 
 onel! hear the pretty little rebel against paternal 
 ideas! She isn't afraid of a drop more or less of inky 
 blood." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax laughed too, but she said: "Oh hush 
 George, it might be repeated." 
 
 Fairfax smiled indulgently, and, drawing Zoe to a 
 seat on the broad arm of his chair, said : " Well my 
 lady-bird, who is Cousin Guido Castlemere? and 
 where does he live? " 
 
 " Why he's Sally's cousin, and he lives in Madrid. 
 His mother is Sally's aunt, and Sally is named for her, 
 and her name isn't Sally at all, but Salome." 
 
 "Ah indeed ! " and at this name on the lips of his 
 daughter he slightly relaxed his hold of her. It was 
 only for an instant. Then, "And what else about 
 Cousin Guido? If you are going to marry him I 
 want to know a great deal about him." 
 
 " Well, Sally has ever so many pictures of him and,
 
 164 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 papa, he's beautiful!" with a quick clasping of her 
 slim little hands. 
 
 Westlake laughed continuously and immoderately. 
 Mrs. Fairfax only smiled and said: "The idea of 
 those children having such thoughts! " 
 
 "Oh," her brother answered, "look at the little tots 
 who can barely walk, playing with their dolls and 
 being mamas and housekeepers. It's only womanly 
 instinct. Zoe and Sally are all right." 
 
 "And how old is Guido? " Fairfax was heard to 
 ask. 
 
 " He was thirteen in August. He sent Sally a beau- 
 tiful long letter telling her all about his birthday 
 party. The letter was written in Spanish, and Sally 
 told me what it meant. Sally says may be her aunt 
 and cousin will come and visit them next year." 
 
 " Do you think you and Guido will marry then? " 
 Fairfax asked with great seriousness. 
 
 "Oh no! I don't expect to marry till I'm old enough 
 to wear long dresses. I want a white silk wedding 
 gown with a long, long train. Did you have that kind ; 
 mama? " 
 
 "Oh my child! I was in great trouble when I was 
 married. I gave very little thought to my gown." 
 
 " Your mama married a soldier with an arm shot 
 half off. She had to think of caring for him and get- 
 ting him home instead of white silk dresses with 
 trains " said Fairfax. 
 
 " That must have been very dreadful," Zoe said 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 " Now Zoe, dear," from her mother, " go and let 
 Polly make you ready for dinner. The bell will ring 
 in a very few. minutes. Papa and Uncle must go too."
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 165 
 
 As Zoe disappeared her father said, " I wonder who 
 this Guido and his mother can be. Has Mrs. Bur- 
 goyne ever mentioned them? " 
 
 " Never. I suppose they must be Mr. Burgoyne's 
 relations. Probably his sister went over with them 
 and married there." 
 
 " Not if this boy is thirteen years old." 
 
 " That's true. Colonel Burgoyne went out to 
 Madrid in the first months of Grant's first term; I 
 wonder if he really resigned because of Mrs. Bur- 
 goyne's health." 
 
 "Oh I guess so," Westlake yawned. 
 
 "And this boy," Mrs. Fairfax continued must have 
 been born about the beginning of the war. I'll ask 
 Mrs. Burgoyne about him." 
 
 " You want to know something of your future 
 son-in-law? " Westlake asked. 
 
 "Oh such nonsense! I am very fond of Mrs. Bur- 
 goyne and naturally I feel interested in her relations." 
 
 After this there were many other things reported 
 of Guido and his mother. Sally had frequent letters 
 from him, and bye and bye, there were messages from 
 the boy in Madrid to his cousin's friend in Bellaire; 
 and Zoe was impelled to take up the study of Spanish 
 that she might read for herself these messages. 
 
 It came to pass on one of the many afternoons that 
 Mrs. Fairfax and Zoe were visiting the Burgoynes 
 that Zoe brought a large photograph of a beautiful, 
 dark-eyed boy for her mother to look at, saying, 
 
 " This is Guido, mama." 
 
 "As Mrs. Fairfax held and admired the picture, 
 she asked her hostess: 
 
 " Is he your nephew? "
 
 1 66 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " No, he's the son of Mr. Burgoyne's cousin. So 
 you see the children are not much relation after all. 
 Cousin Salome is a lovely woman. She's been a 
 widow for several years. I think Count Castlemere 
 died when Guido was about two years old. He has 
 no recollection of his father." 
 
 "So there's a title?" 
 
 " Yes, and a large estate. Salome is well provided 
 for. There's no need of a second marriage for her." 
 
 " Is she American born? " 
 
 "Oh yes. She's a native of New Orleans. She 
 went to Europe a year or two before the war, and has 
 never been home since. She says she's grown so 
 thoroughly Europeanized she has ceased to care to 
 come; but we hope to persuade her to make us a 
 visit bye and bye. The children are so fond of Guido." 
 
 " So many Americans go to Europe with no in- 
 tention of staying, and yet remain there for years. I 
 wonder what the charm is? " 
 
 " I'm sure I cannot tell. I was homesick all the 
 time I was there. The climate was so trying. With 
 Salome it's different. In temperament she's very 
 much like Mr. Burgoyne. - She finds Madrid delight- 
 ful. But, she likes Rome too, and Florence and de- 
 lights in Paris. I used to tell her that she's so hand- 
 some, and so much admired it doesn't make any dif- 
 ference where she lives; she always has a crowd of 
 worshippers. She had just lost her father before she 
 left America ; her mother she doesn't remember, and 
 the breaking out of the war made her stay almost 
 compulsory, as all her relations were in the army, 
 and her father's home broken up."
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 167 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Time passed, the busy, happy days flew over the 
 heads of the children giving them new graces. Silver 
 threads began to show in the heavy brown hair of 
 Colonel Fairfax, and his wife, whose blonde tresses 
 seemed to have made a truce with time, admired him 
 more than ever before. For him awaited a magnific- 
 ent elderly manhood. Often as Mrs. Fairfax silently 
 watched him and thought over the chance that had 
 brought them together, she called herself a fortunate 
 woman. Her uneasiness in regard to the past grew 
 into a shadow of itself, and her husband's scathing 
 rebuke of her jealousy had been like an extinguisher 
 turned over a smouldering fire. It was her constant 
 care to hide, not only the least showing of jealousy, 
 but to eradicate it even from her thoughts. The more 
 she grew to trust her husband the more worthy she 
 felt herself to be of her station. If it had not been for 
 the constant companionship of her brother, she might 
 have grown to remember her fear of rivalry as an evil 
 dream. Westlake found many occasions to make al- 
 lusions to the first marriage of his brother-in-law. He 
 frequently pictured what might happen if the un- 
 acknowledged son should see fit to claim a share of 
 his father's estate upon coming of age, or upon the 
 death of the father. 
 
 Sometimes Mrs. Fairfax would answer: " Probably 
 it would only be right for Jasper to divide with the 
 boy. Both he and Zoe would be rich, even then."
 
 1 68 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " No I don't think it would be right. Adelaide 
 should have been true to her home and her husband. 
 See what you did ! " 
 
 " Yes, I know," Mrs. Fairfax would answer ab- 
 sently, and, after being told this countless times 
 through a dozen years and more she grew to believe 
 that she had paid a very fair price for her husband 
 and all that came with him. Really, she had sacri- 
 ficed nothing, gained everything. The questions that 
 were decided by the war had never meant anything 
 to her. She believed in her father's political opinions 
 without knowing what they were. When he was 
 gone and she was married to Jasper Fairfax she 
 found it easy to adapt herself to the situation. 
 
 One thing troubled her, though she never spoke 
 of it, scarcely acknowledged it to her own heart. She 
 felt that her husband with his inborn ideas of caste 
 must feel himself superior to her and her brother; 
 and yet, being her husband, his high breeding would 
 prevent him ever showing her that her surmise was 
 correct. When she had thought thus far, and remem- 
 bered her husband's way of judging, she acknowl- 
 edged with crimson face that her suspicions were the 
 native growth of her own dwarfish soul. She knew 
 what a stupendous satisfaction it would be to her to 
 be able to trace her ancestry through a scorce of 
 generations to a noble, or at least a worthy source. 
 How much arrogance would not such an ancestry 
 excuse! And yet, where was there a man of simpler 
 manners than Jasper? How cordial was he amongst 
 friends! how kindly considerate of his inferiors. No 
 man was ever so ready to acknowledge merit, none 
 more willing to excuse mediocrity. His servants
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 169 
 
 never heard a harsh word from him, neither did they 
 ever fail in deference. She recalled her reproof of 
 him in the first weeks of their marriage when she 
 thought it an undignified, an unbecoming thing that 
 he should go to black Mammy's room and be com- 
 fortable in her chair. Now, after all these years to- 
 gether, Mammy suffering with the infirmities of age 
 would have passed many a lonely hour, had it not 
 been for this kindly custom of 'Mas' Jaspa' and, by 
 his example transmitted to wife and daughter. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax knew that it was this quality of kind- 
 ness in her husband's nature that had made him fairly 
 worshiped by the men he had led on many hard 
 fought battle fields. To them he had not been the 
 man of culture, wealth and station. He was their 
 kindly commander, their comrade. He had never 
 shown that overbearing arrogance that provokes an 
 inferior to say: " I'm as good as you are." His loft- 
 iness of character sunk all question of difference of 
 worldly estate. His soul recognized its kindred and 
 rejoiced, no matter where met, and though, perforce 
 he entertained strangers and aliens within his gates. 
 
 With the children that Zoe drew to the house he 
 was always upon the happiest terms. He was friend, 
 protector, adviser, comrade. If there was a May- 
 Day or mid-summer dance on the lawn each little 
 girl must have one number on her tablet filled with 
 the Colonel's name. When Zoe learned several 
 Spanish dances of the little Burgoynes she could not 
 be satisfied until papa had learned them ; " For," she 
 explained, " all the girls are going to learn them, 
 and then what will you do when I have my parties, 
 you don't know the dances,''
 
 170 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " Sure enough ! " was his serious exclamation, 
 and forthwith he obediently took his training, up and 
 down the parlor, or probably the veranda to Sally's 
 music on the piano, guitar or mandolin, while little 
 Jack Burgoyne clicked the castanets. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax and her brother looked on and laugh- 
 ed at Zoe's management of her father. That they too 
 might learn the dances was not denied ; but, they were 
 not necessary. Zoe suggested that her mother might 
 learn the music, and Uncle Westlake might be useful 
 if he would handle the castanets. 
 
 While the children sang and danced the time away, 
 while the parents lived their lives over again and 
 grew youthful in the care-free society, while many of 
 the blacks wandered away from their birth-place, 
 finding homes in north, east, west or further south, 
 while the old beeches that made the shady lane to the 
 ruin grew broader, their long, graceful branches 
 making a wider sweep, throwing a denser shade, 
 while the ruin itself, with its ivies and other creeping 
 vines grew into a net-work of twilight passages where 
 the ghosts were said to walk by day as well as by 
 night, while the messages still came from over the 
 sea, and the blonde child grew to be a tall slim 
 maiden and answered her unknown correspondent in 
 Spanish as pure as his own, still Cousin Guido Castle- 
 mere and his mother did not come. 
 
 There were so many things to be done. The boy's 
 education must be considered before anything else. 
 His letters to Sally and Zoe were full of all that he 
 was doing. He was never idle. Even his vacations 
 were filled. These times he spent in travel, with a 
 teacher and his mother. He studied languages,
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 171 
 
 governments and people in their own homes. He 
 said that as America was so far away, and so large, he 
 must leave it till he could give it several years. As 
 his mother's country, too, it deserved more of his 
 time than any other. 
 
 Within a few months Zoe would be nineteen. Her 
 birthdays were always celebrated ; they were always a 
 time for reminiscences. She had come in the dark 
 days of battle and murder. Her first cry had mingled 
 with the thunders of artillery, the clashing of sabres, 
 the groans of the dying, the wailing of widows and 
 orphans. It had broken upon the silent, tearless 
 agony of mothers of dead soldiers. Over her tiny 
 white head had been said: "Oh be glad you have a 
 daughter! She can never be a soldier!" 
 
 Time the great healer had spread a living green 
 covering over fields that had been drenched with 
 blood. New branches had grown on trees whose 
 foliage had been scorched away by shot and shell. 
 In the hearts of men, the bitterness was dying out. 
 
 In the beautiful Autumn, Mrs. Fairfax planned to 
 give as fine a party as Bellaire had ever witnessed, to 
 celebrate her daughter's birthday anniversary, and 
 her emancipation from little-girl-dom. 
 
 Sally Burgoyne, too, was to come out of the chry- 
 salis state. After much conferring, much deep 
 thought as to the proper management of the dif- 
 ficult problem, that of allowing one to attend the com- 
 ing-out party of the other, while that one was not yet 
 in society, it was decided that the party should be a 
 dual affair. It must be on Zoe's birthday, so, at Zoe's 
 house; but, the girls would be introduced and receive
 
 172 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 the congratulations of their friends, together, with 
 their mothers. 
 
 There was much planning, many consultations, but 
 it came to pass that every least particular of the party 
 was arranged a full month ahead of time. Never was 
 anything in the wide world so important. The two 
 debutantes talked of nothing else, and all their friends 
 were glad in their gladness. Their dresses, of course 
 would be simple, but elegant, perfect. Then, when 
 all had been arranged, when the dance programme 
 had been revised and re-revised until it was satisfac- 
 tory, then, what should happen to create in advance 
 the most inexpressible raptures, the most joyful 
 astonishment ! 
 
 It was Sally who brought the news. Her father 
 had carried home a letter for her, late in the afternoon 
 and had thrown it, with other mail on a table in the 
 hall. There, more than an hour afterwards, she had 
 found it. 
 
 What matter if it was late? Was she to wait all 
 that night, and into the next day to tell Zoe the good 
 news? Not while she had her safe, fleet saddle horse 
 and her faithful groom, Julius Cesar. 
 
 The Fairfax family were enjoying the short half- 
 hour before dinner. They were in the wide hall, a 
 blazing log was in the big fire-place, but doors and 
 windows stood open. Mrs. Fairfax sat in the corner 
 close by the jamb, a light shawl over her shoulders. 
 It was a habit she had taken up lately. When her 
 brother said, "Are you cold Marcia? " she answered, 
 " No, I'm getting old ;" and smiled an answer to her 
 husband's anxious look. Zoe said;
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 173 
 
 " It's a pretty shawl, mama, and you look pretty 
 in it." 
 
 Her father said: "Mama ought to be putting on 
 more flesh. I think after this party's over, we'll go 
 south somewhere for the winter." 
 
 Then was heard the clatter of hoofs, and out by 
 the steps, were seen Sally Burgoyne and her groom. 
 Before the black boy could dismount and offer his 
 back for a stepping block. Colonel Fairfax had run 
 down the steps and lifted the girl from the saddle. 
 
 " Why, what in the world is the matter? " he asked 
 as he saw how excited she was. Her cheeks were 
 like pomegranite blossoms, her eyes seemed to emit 
 sparks of brightness. 
 
 Zoe was at her side. As soon as she could speak, 
 and while she was embracing her friend in her own 
 whirlwind fashion, Sally exclaimed: 
 
 "Oh Zoe! darling! the best news! Here's the let- 
 ter, but, don't bother to read it Guido's coming!" 
 
 It was too much for words. After all these years 
 of anticipating, of castle-building ; after so many post- 
 ponements, now, to come as the crown of the great 
 event! The girls subsided, upon a settee still clasped 
 in each other's arms. Westlake laughed silently, 
 and looked from the girls, such a vivid picture as they 
 made, to his sister and her husband. 
 
 Fairfax had placed a chair in front of the fire, and 
 sat upon it very straight, and looked very much in- 
 terested. When he had a chance to speak, he said: 
 
 " Now what will happen next for you two fortun- 
 ates! Is Guido's mother coming? " 
 
 "Oh yes! " Sally answered, and she took the letter 
 from the envelope. They are always together, and
 
 174 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 here is something for you, Zoe, listen: 'Tell Miss 
 Fairfax that I shall expect my formal invitation 
 to her part of the debut party to be waiting for me. 
 As she is your senior by a trifle I shall claim the 
 honor of dancing the second number on the program 
 with her. It's likely she will give the first to some 
 member of her family. Third number, I hope to 
 dance with my sweet cousin Sally." 
 
 " Isn't it too delightful! A real Count at my first 
 real party! Oh me! " and Zoe clasped her hands in 
 ecstacy. 
 
 " Zoe, suppose he doesn't dance well? " said West- 
 lake. 
 
 "Oh but he does, doesn't he Sally? " 
 
 "Oh surely! He's always danced. He danced 
 beautifully when we were in Madrid" 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax felt that this would be a great social 
 triumph. However radicals like her husband might 
 look askance at John Burgoyne, this young relation 
 of his was a gentleman beyond question. He and his 
 mother would arrive a few days before the party. 
 There would be ample time for exchange of civilities 
 and, next after the debutantes, the Countess Castle- 
 mere should be the guest of honor.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 175 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 The passengers and crew aboard La Paris when 
 that stout steamer was battling with unprecedented 
 storms on her way from Havre to New York had 
 many anxious hours; but, doubtless in their trouble 
 they would have smiled could they have known clair- 
 voyantly or otherwise, the anxiety of two far inland 
 American girls, concerning the steamer for the sake 
 of one handsome young man amongst them. 
 
 Sally and Zoe imagined the big steamer out on the 
 waves with only Guido. He was alone on the wide 
 decks. He lounged or read, or made music in the 
 elegant saloon, he sat at all the tables; he slept in all 
 the state rooms. There was a multitude of him. 
 Each one of the many pictures he had sent had 
 materialized. He was several beautiful little boys. 
 He was a student in cap and gown. He was a grace- 
 ful polo-player. He was captain of a reckless foot- 
 ball team. He was the champion skater amongst 
 the dikes and ditches of Holland. He was Don Fer- 
 nando in an amateur theatrical company. 
 
 Great was the trouble caused by the delayed 
 steamer. Every morning, Sally and Zoe met at West- 
 lake's office to get the earliest glimpse of his day old 
 New York paper. How dreadful were those head- 
 lines: "No news of La Paris: Two days over due." 
 Then three days, four days, five and six. The girls 
 thought seriously of deferring the party. How could 
 they be glad and gay, not knowing what had hap-
 
 176 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 pened, not knowing at what moment the most shock- 
 ing news might come? On the seventh day, oh 
 rapture! They needed not to wait for the clumsy 
 printing presses, the creeping trains. Colonel Bur- 
 goyne had a telegram from Guido. The vessel was 
 in, crippled, and with captain, crew and passengers 
 sadly worn. The telegram was sent before all the 
 landing formalities had been complied with. Very 
 soon, the travellers would start on their long railway 
 journey. 
 
 No more news until the morning of the day before 
 the party. Then only a few words from a breakfast 
 station. If nothing happened the foreigners would 
 arrive late that day. 
 
 They made quite a company as they stepped upon 
 the platform of the Bellaire station where Colonel 
 Burgoyne and Sally met them. There was the 
 Countess, a tall large woman with dark eyes and 
 snow-white hair. Count Guido, his man, his mother's 
 maid, and an elderly man, tall, broad, dark of face 
 and gray of hair. This last seemed to have all the 
 care of the whole party. He carried the baggage 
 checks, gave all orders, and he alone of the three 
 servants spoke to Burgoyne. It was noticed by the 
 usual crowd of loungers about a railway station that 
 this elderly servant not only spoke to the ex-consul, 
 but that they shook hands most cordially. This, how- 
 ever, passed as nothing save evidence of long servit- 
 ude and appreciation of it by a relation of the 
 Countess. 
 
 In the rebound of spirits Sally and Zoe were more 
 joyous than before. Surely now kindly fate would
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 177 
 
 let nothing happen to cheat them out of the glory of 
 a perfect evening. 
 
 Nothing happened that cast more than a flitting 
 shade over their bright faces. Countess Castlemere 
 did not feel equal to meeting strangers after her 
 wearisome journey. She remained at home to rest, 
 so said the Burgoyne party when they presented 
 themselves without her. 
 
 But the young Count, Guido! Zoe in her shining 
 white silk, her fair hair coiled high on her head, and 
 ornamented with a half blown rose as crimson as her 
 lips, lifted her eyes as Colonel Burgoyne said: 
 
 " Cousin Guido let me introduce you to the fairest 
 of all American girls." 
 
 She met the expectant, inquiring gaze of a pair of 
 luminous dark eyes below a broad smoothe forehead, 
 that was shaded with curling hair, black at first 
 glance, but taking on a glint of bronze in a strong 
 light. The dark face was smoothe and boyish and 
 beautiful. There was a smiling alertness in look and 
 manner as if he were continually anticipating some- 
 thing new and delightful. He was tall, slight, and 
 graceful in every movement. His manner towards 
 herself was something new, even to Zoe. He was so 
 gentle, so deferential, so quick to discover her 
 thoughts. 
 
 They had their first dance together, a plain 
 quadrille, and when it was over, he said as he led her 
 to a seat by her mother, "Ah, that was lovely! but, 
 we must have a waltz." Bye and bye they had it, 
 the graceful, swaying, Spanish waltz with guitar and 
 castanets added to the music, and the heavier in- 
 struments hushed, Zoe had inly determined as
 
 178 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 soon as she heard that Guido was coming, to have 
 this dance with him. As she swung round and 
 round amongst the ethers, she wondered how she 
 ever could have supposed she had danced before. 
 This new friend, this long heard-of cousin of Sally's 
 was the very spirit of music and motion. His firm 
 slender hands scarcely touched her, and yet, guided 
 by them she seemed to fairly float on the waves of 
 the music. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax, watching them, approached her 
 husband : " How beautiful Zoe is to-night." 
 
 " Yes," he answered and sighed. 
 
 "And the young Count ;-isn't he very handsome?" 
 
 " Yes," he answered again absently. After a pause, 
 " He resembles Burgoyne in a measure, but there's 
 something else about him that is familiar but I can't 
 make it out." 
 
 "Oh he's a much finer type of man than Colonel 
 Burgoyne. I hope Zoe's fancy will not out-run his 
 own," and Mrs. Fairfax forced a little interrogative 
 laugh while she watched her husband's face. 
 
 " I hope so too," he answered as if he was thinking 
 of something else. " I believe it's Hawthorne's Do- 
 natella he recalls." 
 
 " What an idea! But, we can see his ears, they're 
 human. I'm sorry his mother couldn't come." 
 
 " It's more graceful for her not to be here until 
 after calls are exchanged." 
 
 Sally Burgoyne divided the honors equally with 
 Zoe. Never had she appeared so fairly scintillant in 
 her dark beauty. When she and Guido were part- 
 ners in a quadrille she whispered a word to the leader 
 of the musicians and the stately measure changed to a
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 179 
 
 mad gallop. She improvised steps, whirls, balances, 
 chasees, all with a pressure of her finger, a glance of 
 her eye, and never once confused or interrupted the 
 other dancers. She and Guido made an elaborate 
 embroidery on the plain figures of the dance. They 
 were the sparkle of champagne on the decorous 
 glass of sherry. 
 
 " My dear," Burgoyne said to his wife who sat in 
 a group of which Fairfax was one, " Look at those 
 two spirits of mischief. Now will you and Cousin 
 Sally have your trouble all over again. Colonel," 
 turning to Fairfax, "that pair of youngsters, a few 
 years ago were the worst boy and girl in Madrid." 
 
 " But, dear, they were not bad, they were only 
 full of spirit, as they are now," said Mrs. Burgoyne. 
 
 "I'm sure," Fairfax remarked smiling " that if their 
 sins are always as graceful as they are to-night they 
 may be easily pardoned." 
 
 "Certainly, certainly," Burgoyne answered. "What 
 most astonishes me is their perfect understanding of 
 each other. It takes but the crook of a finger, the 
 lift of an eye-lash, and, away they go." 
 
 " How well they mark the time and yet put in all 
 those extras, and fill the requirements of the formal 
 figure," said Mrs. Jerome. 
 
 Fairfax listened and answered while his thoughts 
 were away in the past when other companies danced 
 the hours away in these same rooms. Some of the 
 old-time dancers were here, looking on at their 
 daughters, as he looked on at his. It seemed such 
 a short time since he, a child, had danced with other 
 children and looked over his shoulder, or his little 
 partner's head, at his lovely, girlish mother. Then
 
 180 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 she was gone, and for a long time, most of the dances 
 were in the other house. As this thought crossed 
 his mind, Castlemere passed with Fanny Jerome on 
 his arm. What a good dancer, what a free hearted, 
 rollicking comrade the girl's mother was in the old 
 days! What a warm, true womanly friend she was 
 still! In the old days the charm of the time was 
 but why think of her? 
 
 The night was warm and full of the spicy odors 
 of Autumn. The doors and the long windows all 
 stood open. Many of the dancers were on the 
 verandas, still keeping time to waltz, polka or schot- 
 tische. Others of the company walked up and down, 
 resting, they said. The full moon made the ample 
 veranda, draped here and there with vines, still in 
 their summer green, an ideal surrounding for the 
 scene of gaiety within. Many of the chairs, settees 
 and hammocks were occupied. Pairs in the shadier 
 spots meant "the old story" rehearsed once more 
 to the sounds of music, dancing feet and all the jol- 
 lity of youth. 
 
 It was on the veranda that looked down the avenue 
 of beeches that Sally Burgoyne stood with her cousin 
 surrounded by a half dozen others. Colonel Fairfax 
 was not far away. He and Dr., Dome, the only 
 one now, were walking about and recalling old times, 
 which, judging by tones and frequent laughter must 
 have been pleasant. 
 
 Suddenly, from the direction of the ruin, a shriek 
 rang out on the night. It was long and loud, and 
 repeated over and over. Everybody heard it, even 
 the dancers inside, above the sound of the music, a
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 181 
 
 full silver band, playing a quick step schottische ar- 
 ranged from the air of " Way down South in Dixie." 
 
 All was noisy confusion, or pale-lipped silence. 
 The music stopped, and players, dancers, chaperones, 
 servants, all crowded the veranda. To the hurried 
 questions and breathless exclamations, Fairfax 
 answered. "It's nothing but a frightened darkey; 
 it can be nothing else." He reminded his neighbors 
 of the foolish notions of the blacks in regard to the 
 ruin. In the midst of his laughing assurances, all 
 heard some one running rapidly, gasping and groan- 
 ing. Evidently a man, large and clumsy, was coming 
 up the beech avenue. Fairfax descended the steps 
 and stood on the walk in the full moonlight. Direct- 
 ly the runner was in view, hatless, coatless, mouth 
 open, eyes rolling. 
 
 " Why, Tim, Tim, so it's you? What can be the 
 matter? What's happened?" 
 
 "Oh Mas' Jaspa! Oh good Lawd! Oh de 
 ghoses ! Oh Lawd ! " and the negro dropped on the 
 walk at his master's feet. 
 
 " There Tim, wait for your breath ; you left it with 
 the ghosts," and Fairfax laughed with his guests who 
 had joined him on the walk. A bevy of girls came 
 tripping down the steps, but their host playfully 
 "shoo-ed" them back reminding them of their slippers 
 and the heavy dew that lay on the walk. He with a 
 number of the men stood by Tim and bantered him 
 with many derisive ha-has, about the ghosts that had 
 given him chase. As soon as Tim had recovered his 
 breath he rose from the ground, and most solemnly 
 insisted that he had not only seen the ghosts, but he 
 had heard them.
 
 1 82 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " But," said Doctor Dome, " you know Tim that 
 ghosts are quiet folk. We always say 'as still as a 
 spook.' " 
 
 " Dat's all right, doctah, but I done hear dat ghos' 
 laff an' laff. I seed de two of em in de grave ya'd.' 
 
 " For heaven's sake Tim! " from Westlake, "what 
 were you doing in the grave yard? " 
 
 " Well Mistah Westlake, da's on'y one right time fo' 
 to cotch a rabbit ef so yo' wants de right kine o'luck. 
 I done promise myse'f I'd git Missy Zoe a rabbit's 
 foot, an' dis berry night was de time. See dat big 
 roun' moon? " 
 
 Amidst the chorus of laughter, Fairfax exclaimed: 
 " Sure enough ! Tim, it's an outrage of the ghosts 
 to interfere with you on such an undertaking! And 
 you didn't get the rabbit? " 
 
 " No sah. Hit's dah in de trap all fas' enough, 
 but dem two ghoses des come traspesin long wha 
 we done bury Victo' an' Miss Salome, an' dey stop 
 an' look at de head stones, an' dey des stan' an' laff 
 an' laff lak dey done gone crazy." 
 
 Said Phil Jerome, " Perhaps the ghosts were look- 
 ing for a rabbit too." 
 
 "Oh Lawd, Mistah Jerome / dun-now w'at dey 
 look fo'. I des run an' run an' dem ghoses cla' guv 
 me de hoo-doo. When I was fo' sho runin' towa'ds 
 home hyah I fotch up way todeh side de grave ya'd, 
 an' dah was dem ghoses, too. Den I tinks I make 
 a shoot fo' Miss Agnes' house, an' fo' Gaud, dah was 
 dem ghoses. An' one ghose hed a long vail on huh 
 haid, an' I seed huh settin on dat big stun at 
 lays in de flo' by de fi' place, an' she sot dah lookin 
 at de hole in de back wall lak she's wa'min' he se'f,
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 183 
 
 an' de man ghose he stan back lil ways, an' dey wasn't 
 laffin. Dey was lookin mighty solemn. An' den de 
 man ghose he say, 'Come way dah's dat nigga gen.' 
 An' de woman ghose say, an' she look at me wid big 
 eyes lak fi; 'Dat's Tim.' Den I des yell an' run, an' 
 hyah I is." 
 
 Gradually, as Tim told his story a group of scared 
 blacks gathered on the lawn. This was the greatest 
 fright any of them had ever experienced. Of all the 
 rabbits caught in the Fairfax burying ground and 
 slaughtered for the sake of the talismanic foot, not 
 one of the rabbit hunters had ever had an adventure 
 like this. True, each and every one had seen a ghost ; 
 but heretofore, all ghosts had been flitting shadows. 
 They had been shy, keeping themselves in the denser 
 shade of tree, monument, or church. These two 
 hilarious disembodiments, while evidently not cour- 
 ting the presence of Tim, were certainly careless of 
 it in a measure. 
 
 Fairfax told Tim to go to the housekeeper and get 
 a glass of something to quiet his nerves, and when he 
 was gone, the excitement of the fright seemed to the 
 guests only a romantic diversion, and Zoe was con- 
 gratulated. No other girl in all the county could 
 have such a picturesque adjunct to her birthday 
 dance. 
 
 Castlemere declared that it was the most truly de- 
 lightful ghost story he had ever heard in any land 
 concerning any ruin. He must certainly see the 
 place. 
 
 In the quarters there was much shaking of gray 
 heads. This appearance of Salome's ghost on this 
 night, boded no good to the young daughter of the
 
 184 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 house. Why should the ghost laugh? Was it be- 
 cause of the folly of her survivors in burying her poor 
 charred bones? There her ashes mingled with the 
 earth while her restless spirit wandered to and fro, 
 and came to sit and muse in the desolate house on 
 the cruelty that had sent her hurrying out of life in 
 her youth and glorious beauty. 
 
 While the blacks had always fully agreed that it 
 would have been highly improper for 'Mas' Jaspa* to 
 have married Salome, indeed, not one of them, know- 
 ing who was her mother would have retained the least 
 atom of respect for him had he done so, still, when 
 speaking of her, and her visits to the ruin, the stories 
 were always tinged with the jealousy that the dead 
 girl must feel towards the woman who was the wife 
 of her lover.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 185 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 " Don't you think he is much handsomer than any 
 of his photographs? " 
 
 " Yes, very much. He has so much animation. 
 There is a peculiar charm in the rapid changes of his 
 face. His eyes seem to change color with his 
 thoughts;" and Mrs. Fairfax drew her shawl a little 
 closer about her, and fanned herself languidly. She 
 looked at Zoe meditatively. In her mind's eye she 
 saw her fair daughter in another white gown, and 
 with orange blossoms, instead of a red red rose in her 
 hair. 
 
 " Tell me what you think of him, Uncle Westlake;" 
 and Zoe tapped his shoulder with her fan. Since she 
 had awakened, about noon, she had talked of little 
 else than Castlemere on this day after the dance. Her 
 mother had been a sympathetic listener, but now that 
 her father and her uncle were at home she began to 
 wonder that they had no word of praise for the hand- 
 some foreigner. 
 
 Spoken to directly, Westlake said: 
 
 " The fellow's good looking, and I guess he's got 
 money, and, he'll make his way wherever he goes. 
 He's quite a little like Burgoyne, but, " 
 
 "Oh Uncle! he doesn't seem to me in the least like 
 Colonel Burgoyne. Does he to you mania? " 
 
 " Why dear, they are the same in some ways ; both 
 are tall and dark; the same type you know, and
 
 1 86 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 their features are something the same. Guido is only 
 slighter, and their manners are different." 
 
 " The Count is one generation later," said West- 
 lake. " He's had better training. As far as money 
 goes, he's to all intents a born gentlemen. Burgoyne 
 has more the appearance of a self-made man, and as 
 if he had got sick of the job before he put in his 
 brains, and didn't mix enough to fill his big skull." 
 
 "Or as if," Fairfax interrupted, with a blink at his 
 wife, "he had happened to be near an abattoir and 
 had bundled in a hog's." 
 
 Zoe gave a shout of laughter and then, " Papa, I'm 
 shocked. You have no regard for high station." 
 
 " If Burgoyne had only a little money he wouldn't 
 seem half so vulgar," said Westlake. 
 
 " From battle and murder and sudden wealth, 
 good Lord deliver us," Zoe mumbled, tapping her 
 fingers with her fan. 
 
 " Zoe ! " her mother exclaimed reprovingly. 
 
 " Mama, you remember those two families we met 
 last year at White Sulphur, and how deplorably vul- 
 gar they were. I'm sure they would have been a 
 very good sort of people if they had had no money, 
 or not enough to make them pretentious." 
 
 " Their children will be the better for the experi- 
 ence of their parents; and no doubt their grand child- 
 ren will have quite outgrown their low origin, and 
 will be fine strong characters." 
 
 " Yes, but the parents might have saved them- 
 selves many humiliations, if they're not too thick 
 skinned to feel, if they had taken time to cultivate a 
 few graces of mind while they were getting rich." 
 
 "My dear niece, war doesn't last forever, for which
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 187 
 
 the saints be praised, and those people you mention 
 had to strike while the cannons were hot. The neces- 
 sities of the country were their opportunity. They 
 piled up their dollars while they were to be gathered, 
 and now they go to White Sulphur, and the rest and 
 offend the inherited and acquired tastes of the daugh- 
 ter of a hundred Fairfaxs." 
 
 " Do you really think mama, that it is only culture 
 that makes Count Castlemere different from Colonel 
 Burgoyne? It seems to me they never could have 
 been in the least alike if they had always lived to- 
 gether, and always done the same things." 
 
 " I cannot say, my dear. One's surroundings 
 make a great difference." 
 
 Westlake had continually watched Fairfax as he 
 walked up and down the room with his hands thrown 
 behind him. He had seemed not to notice what was 
 said, but Westlake's habitual half smile broadened 
 when Zoe said suddenly: 
 
 " Papa you haven't given us one word. Now, 
 please to say, 'decisive and clear, without one if or 
 but,' what you think of Count Castlemere." 
 
 Fairfax glanced at his brother-in-law, at his wife, 
 and then, his gaze resting on his daughter, while a 
 smile twitched the corners of his eyes, he said : " I 
 think he's a nigger." 
 
 " Papa Fairfax ! " and Zoe was out of her chair in 
 a twinkling and seizing her father by his lapels held 
 him still. 
 
 Westlake laughed uproariously. Mrs. Fairfax 
 made a deprecating gesture with her fan, then laugh- 
 ed behind it to see her brother shed mirthful tears. 
 
 " Truly papa, you're joking? "
 
 1 88 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " Truly, I'm not. For the last year or two you've 
 known what I think, what I've thought from the first 
 of Mr. Burgoyne, ex-colonel, ex-consul, though he 
 be. This boy is a relation of his, and, most probably 
 he has a white father; but true to heredity, he is al- 
 most sure to be like his mother. Wait till we see her. 
 He has all the marks of a mixture of races as plain as 
 Burgoyne's, though he has been filtered through one 
 more generation of white blood, and has had all that 
 money can buy to tone down the black drop." 
 
 " Colonel, it is the oddest thing to me to see you 
 pounce upon dark-haired people as you do. Marcia, 
 it must have been your fair hair that caught him." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax laughed, glancing at her husband 
 and daughter as they walked up and down the length 
 of the room together. 
 
 " Marcia knew the girl of my first love affair. Her 
 hair was not dark ; it was burnished copper." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Fairfax, " her hair was very 
 beautiful; the most peculiarly beautiful I ever saw/ 
 
 " Her complexion was beautiful too. Her hair 
 was the color of her father's with the silky kink of 
 her mother's added. As soon as I knew beyond a 
 doubt that she was not my cousin I wondered how I 
 could have over-looked the strong marks of the ne- 
 gro. An experience of that sort I think would make 
 an impression on any man. I, at least couldn't be 
 fooled a second time." 
 
 " You might possibly be mistaken," said Mrs. Fair- 
 fax. 
 
 " I might, but I'd venture my bottom dollar and 
 my ultimate acre on Burgoyne."
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 189 
 
 " Cousin Guido too, papa? " and Zoe dragged on 
 his arm and smiled. 
 
 " Cousin Guido too, sweet. He's a later edition of 
 the same story. The print is clearer, more easily 
 read but the binding is the same: quarter morocco, 
 with gilt edges." 
 
 "Oh papa! papa!" and Zoe turned to face her 
 uncle who was laughing silently, and her mother who 
 wore an apologetic smile. 
 
 " No my dear," Fairfax said seriously. " While 
 Cousin Guido and his mother are guests of Mrs. Bur- 
 goyne, we must be civil to them. Mrs. Burgoyne, 
 though weak, is a good woman. She's the salvation 
 of the whole pack. I can't imagine how she hap- 
 pens to be there. But we want no more of these 
 foreigners than is absolutely unavoidable." 
 
 This fiat threw a chill over the spirits of the family. 
 Through all the years of the acquaintance with Col- 
 onel Burgoyne's household, though Mrs. Fairfax and 
 her brother knew of the estimate put upon the head 
 of the family by Colonel Fairfax, yet they never heard 
 him object to the constant inercourse of the children. 
 He was polite to Burgoyne, and exceedingly kind to 
 the pale wife. This ingratiating young foreigner was 
 a different matter. 
 
 There was a silence that came near being awkward. 
 Then dinner was announced. 
 
 In the course of the rather dull evening, just as 
 Zoe was beginning to hear again the dance music 
 spinning through her head, and was dreading the 
 necessary preparations for bed, Westlake looked up 
 from his newspaper, saying: 
 
 " Listen to this, Colonel, here's a chance for an
 
 190 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 English title for you; at any rate, it's your name. 
 This is the London letter in the Tribune." 
 
 "Yes? read it. Don't wait Zoe, dear, if you're 
 sleepy." 
 
 "Oh I'm not so very sleepy, let me lean against 
 you and hear too," and she pulled a hassock to her 
 father's feet and leaned her head against his knee. 
 
 Westlake read: 
 
 " Here is a strange sad story of a title going a- 
 begging and a fine estate about to revert to the 
 Crown. 
 
 Three months ago there lived in Treslyn Castle 
 Lord Treslyn, nearing his eightieth year, his son, 
 Leigh Fairfax, about twenty five years younger, his 
 wife, son and two daughters. Now, the octogenarian 
 is the sole male representative of the house of Tres- 
 lyn. The older son of Leigh Fairfax, also Leigh, 
 had been married for some years, but had no child- 
 ren. Two and a half months ago, he was drowned 
 by the wrecking of his yacht. This, while a terrible 
 grief to the family, yet did not leave them desolate. 
 There remained Guy, who was preparing to be mar- 
 ried to the daughter of a fine old Scottish family. 
 Four weeks ago his horse came home riderless, and 
 the young man was found dead in one of the far cor- 
 ners of the park. It seemed the horse had shied at 
 a ragged piece of paper, and Guy Fairfax, one of the 
 most daring riders in England lay stone dead by a 
 tree trunk, his head and face covered with his blood. 
 
 " When the mother was told of the terrible ac- 
 cident she fell in what was supposed to be a swoon, 
 but she never opened her eyes again. The father 
 went about, tearless, attending to all matters per-
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 191 
 
 taining to the sad time, speaking to no one, excepting 
 when absolutely necessary, but breathing such sighs 
 as breaks the heart, and exclaiming: "My sons! my 
 sons ! light of my eyes ! " 
 
 "After the funerals were over he took to his bed 
 with brain fever. He died on the ninth day. The 
 two daughters remain, but by the terms of the entail 
 they cannot inherit. Old Lord Treslyn sits in his 
 castle with no near relation, if any to follow him. 
 The daughters of the house always receive a liberal 
 dower. At the death of their grandfather, the two 
 Fairfax girls will be under the guardianship of the 
 Crown. It is said that there is an American branch 
 of the family, and Lord Treslyn will send his solicitor 
 to look them up." 
 
 Fairfax was again walking the floor. 
 
 "Ah that is terrible! terrible! " 
 
 " Do you think, dear," Mrs. Fairfax asked "that 
 they are your relations whom you visited? " 
 
 " The names are all correct, but, the whole story 
 may be a fabrication. It doesn't seem possible." 
 
 " But, papa, suppose it is all true. Are you the 
 next of kin? " 
 
 " Yes, as far as we knew. Let me see : It was two 
 years before the war when I was there. Leigh Fair- 
 fax was as pleasant a man as one would care to meet. 
 Lord Treslyn, then about sixty, or a year or two 
 younger was jovial and hale, a fine rider, full of life 
 as a boy of twenty, and dotingly fond of his grand- 
 children. They were little tots then. Our relation- 
 ship was talked of until we knew the exact remove 
 of cousin we were, and Leigh's two boys made great 
 pretense of fear that I would steal them away and
 
 192 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 drown them or hide them in the woods to starve so 
 as to be Lord Treslyn myself some day." 
 
 "And now to think of it! Why Colonel, you're 
 the luckiest man alive? " 
 
 " Yes, I reckon I'm lucky enough," and it was a 
 strange smile that lit up his face as he drew a chair 
 close to the table by which Westlake and Mrs. Fair- 
 fax sat. 
 
 " I'm lucky enough without being Lord Treslyn 
 and inheriting that great estate." 
 
 " Why Jasper, you wouldn't refuse it? " 
 
 " I'll not be given the chance to refuse it." 
 
 "But, if there's no other?" and Mrs. Fairfax's 
 brain whirled at the thought of that other Fairfax, 
 and the possibility of her husband's abdication in his 
 favor. 
 
 " I believe, and Lord Treslyn believed that I was 
 in the direct line of succession after his grandsons. 
 Until the breaking out of the war, I kept up a cor- 
 respondence with Leigh Fairfax. We addressed 
 each other affectionately, as cousin. 
 
 " The first Lord Treslyn received his title and 
 land from the hands of Henry the VII, at the close 
 of the Wars of the Roses. They were given as a 
 reward for bravery, and devotion to his master and 
 king. The Leigh Fairfax of that time is supposed 
 to have been a plain yeoman, but, the story goes in 
 the annals of the family that he was Henry's scout, 
 and was a keen, sharp-witted fellow, entirely devoted 
 to the man he believed to be king by the grace of 
 God, against all others who claimed the title. 
 
 " So, at the final close of the war, Henry bestowed 
 upon this rough-and-ready soldier the title of Lord
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 193 
 
 Treslyn, and an immense estate with the proviso that 
 only sons should inherit because only men could be 
 soldiers. A further proviso declared that if any Fair- 
 fax should be concerned in any least plot against the 
 Government, in any least rebellious scheme, should, 
 in the language of the Church engage in the very 
 faintest shading of " sedition, privy conspiracy and 
 rebellion," then should he forfeit his title and estate 
 if already in possession, or be deemed ineligible if 
 heir-at-law. This proviso comprehends foreign born 
 heirs if the English line should fail. 
 
 " Henry, it seems was so glad to get possession of 
 his throne at last, that he meant only truly loyal men 
 should profit by his gift." 
 
 " Do you think that cuts you out? " 
 
 " It certainly does. I saw the Charter and read it 
 through. I was a faithful rebel in the late unpleasant 
 ness, so I can never be Lord Treslyn." 
 
 " How I wish I had a brother! " 
 
 " Yes, dear, I wish you had a brother; not especial- 
 ly to inherit this English fortune but for our own 
 comfort and happiness in having one more nice per- 
 son in the house; one more good Kentuckian 
 and one more Fairfax to keep the farms." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax and her brother exchanged glances, 
 then Westlake said: 
 
 " I think Zoe, it would have been a fine thing if 
 that Mr. Guy Fairfax had come over here and mar- 
 ried you, and kept his head whole. Then you see the 
 English and American farms would have been all in 
 the family, and you'd have been Lady Treslyn. I'm 
 afraid," and he laughed, closing one eye, "that papa
 
 194 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 won't consent to you becoming Countess Castle- 
 mere." 
 
 "Oh bother Castlemere!" Zoe pouted, "I care 
 more for papa Fairfax than I do for a title and all the 
 rest of the world of men," and she leaned over the 
 back of her father's chair, and twined her arms about 
 his neck. 
 
 "That's papa's own baby!" he answered. "We 
 want to hear nothing about titles and husbands for a 
 long time. When a husband must come, we prefer 
 an American; will be highly pleased with a Kentuck- 
 ian, but will insist on a white man. Now, darling, 
 good-night, and sweet dreams."
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 195 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 When Mrs. Fairfax found herself alone with her 
 husband she ventured upon a subject that had been a 
 sealed book between them for years. No second 
 quarrel upon any matter had ever arisen between 
 them, but she felt that in that one storm one half of 
 all the romance of her married life had been swept 
 away. Not that her husband had ever been unkind 
 to her, not that he showed by word or deed that he 
 remembered the quarrel, excepting in one way: He 
 had thrown off her petty tyranny. He disposed of 
 his time, in a measure without consulting her, or al- 
 lowing her objections to interfere. When it had been 
 a question of going away for the summer or winter. 
 or making a trip anywhere, he would say readily, 
 " Yes, we'll go," or "no, we cannot go," for such and 
 such reasons. Or he would say: "This or that will 
 be the very thing for you and Zoe. Go by all means 
 and be comfortable. I'm going hunting, or fishing 
 or to New York, or New Orleans. You'll probably 
 feel lonely at home." 
 
 She could not longer insist that she must ac- 
 company him. Though she regretted this lost thread 
 of dainty coloring from her life, yet in reviewing the 
 matter she confessed to herself it had never really 
 been there. Her husband had never believed in her 
 to the extent she had supposed. He simply tolerated 
 her constant presence. 
 
 He had carried that tell-tale photograph from the
 
 196 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 battle of the Wilderness till the close of the war, and 
 then it was hidden away with, she could guess with 
 burning cheeks, what thoughts of herself, until the 
 quarrel, that, she was honest enough to confess she 
 had forced upon him. 
 
 When the picture was sprung upon her, she could 
 scarcely believe her own senses. Since then, as often 
 as she thought it all over she felt that it was a hor- 
 rible nightmare. How she had posed as the single- 
 hearted, worshiping wife! How she had always re- 
 frained from any least mention of betrothal or even 
 of a casual admirer. Her husband had respected her 
 reticence only, while she supposed he believed in her 
 as she represented herself. After that night she 
 thought how he must have despised her while he 
 submitted to her caresses. 
 
 She never would have guessed how surprised he 
 would have been at her summing up of the matter. 
 He had had no unkind thoughts of her, neither 
 before nor after the quarrel. The episode brought to 
 light hidden things for her, not for him. He revealed 
 her to herself. The revelation had been made to 
 him long before. He did not despise her for having 
 had a lover, and reading character as he did, neither 
 did he despise the secrecy she maintained in regard 
 to the lover. All pretty girls had admirers. He knew 
 that Northern girls generally were not so surrounded 
 by care as are Southern and European girls. He 
 knew that Marcia Westlake had lived a peculiarly 
 free, irresponsible life. This lover was only an in- 
 cident. That this lover had been permitted to carry 
 her picture to camp and field was not strange. The 
 excitement of the times, the new and terrible sensa-
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 197 
 
 tions that were constantly sweeping over the country^ 
 awakened alien emotions, prompted lash behaviour. 
 The parting hours of lovers were often fraught with 
 such consequences as the longest life, the bitterest 
 regrets might not efface. 
 
 All these excitements, these follies were labelled 
 patriotism; devotion to the flag; fidelity to the 
 soldiers. 
 
 If the enemy had been further away, across the 
 sea, even beyond the boundary line of Canada, war 
 would have worn a different aspect. The call to arms 
 would not have been so imperative, nor would the 
 country's defenders have received thanklessly so 
 many sacrifices made for them. 
 
 Civil war is the greatest of all evils. The feuds 
 amongst relations are the most stubborn. 
 
 So many old-time thoughts came to Mrs. Fairfax 
 when she wished to speak to her husband in regard 
 to the boy who bore his name. Assuming an air of 
 carelessness as she took off her rings and unclasped 
 a bracelet she said: 
 
 " Dear, do you regret very much your position 
 during the war? " 
 
 "Regret! " he stopped short in the middle of the 
 room, smiled interrogatively, then, "what a question! 
 Why should I regret, after all these years? " 
 
 " Because of this English title and the fine 
 property." 
 
 "Oh Marcia! " he came and sat near her. " How 
 can you think it! Probably if I were very poor 
 I confess I wouldn't like to be poor, I might covet 
 Lord Treslyn's position for the ease it would bring 
 to me and mine; but, I worked for the Confederacy
 
 198 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 because I thought we were right. I think so still. 
 We suffered for the sins of our fathers, and the blacks 
 have suffered too, and they'll continue to suffer. No, 
 my wife, I have no regrets of the kind you are 
 thinking." 
 
 " Suppose we had a son. Do you think the fact 
 of you having borne arms against the Government 
 would cut him off? " 
 
 " No, I think not," he answered slowly. " No, 
 my behaviour would not jeoparidize the claims of my 
 son, if I had a son, if he were not a party to my 
 action." 
 
 " But dear, you have a son." 
 
 " Nobody but you has ever heard me say so, and 
 no one else ever will." 
 
 " Why should you deny it? " 
 
 " I don't deny it, I simply ignore it. No one has 
 ever mentioned it to me since Senator Francis' letter 
 announcing the birth of the child excepting yourself 
 and Cogswell. You remember his letter? During 
 our visit in Washington that winter, he was quite 
 anxious that I should see the boy. I told him that 
 for me the boy did not exist; that I could not imagine 
 circumstances that would make me care if he lived or 
 died. I would not even turn my head to see him. 
 The soreness of the quarrel with his mother, and the 
 sting of defeat, were then, and are still with me. It 
 may be a rascally feeling, but I'm honest enough to 
 confess it; it would break my heart to have the son 
 of Adelaide Francis, the grand-son of that haggling 
 old demagogue, Archibald Francis, divide Fairfax 
 Farms with Zoe." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax's eyes brightened and a pink tinge
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 199 
 
 came into her cheeks. She leaned forward and kissed 
 her husband fondly. A woman of deeper insight 
 would have realized that the wounds must have been 
 grievous to leave such lasting effects. There must 
 have been something exceedingly sweet about this 
 wife of a few weeks that the loss of her left such a 
 rankling bitter. 
 
 " Then suppose Lord Treslyn comes seeking an 
 heir. Will you tell him of this boy? " 
 
 " Not unless I'm cornered by some ferret of a 
 lawyer." 
 
 "Why shouldn't you help him that much? It 
 would take him out of the country beyond the pos- 
 sibility of making trouble." 
 
 " No, it would simply give him and his mother and 
 his grandfather power. I know old Francis. He 
 would hang me up by the thumbs until he had filched 
 from me half I'm worth for the boy, and a good fat 
 price for his maintenance all these years." 
 
 " Was nothing said of alimony at the time of 
 separation?" 
 
 "All that was said was said by myself and Phil 
 Jerome. He was then as now, in partnership with 
 Cogswell. After I had vainly exhausted my rhetoric 
 to induce Adelaide to forego the legal separation, I 
 instructed Phil to agree to any terms she proposed, 
 give her anything she asked for. She asked for 
 nothing, and even said she would resume her maiden 
 name. I suppose she was advised to retain mine on 
 account of the child. In case old Lord Treslyn 
 makes inquiries, I'll answer what questions I must. 
 I'll volunteer no information." 
 
 For several days the fatalities in the English Fair-
 
 2OO Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 fax family, and the bearing of those fatalities on the 
 fortunes of the American cousins, divided the interest 
 felt in the recent arrivals from Madrid. Colonel Fair- 
 fax declared that, further than his sympathy for the 
 family in their sorrow, he had no feeling in the matter. 
 He wrote a long, kindly letter of condolence to Lord 
 Treslyn and his grand-daughters, then waved away 
 all mention of the whole affair. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax and her brother, when alone together, 
 discussed the probability of the young, un-acknowl- 
 edged Jasper being sought out to take possession 
 instead of allowing the title to die, the estate revert 
 to the Crown. Zoe, knowing nothing of this half- 
 brother never heard a whisper of him in connection 
 with this inheritance; but she frequently remarked 
 how fine it would have been to have visited these far- 
 removed relations. Probably she could do so yet. 
 Dr. Dome had recommended a sea voyage for 
 mama. Towards Spring she would talk to papa about 
 it. 
 
 A few days after the London letter was published 
 in the Tribune there was a copy of it in the Bellaire 
 Chronicle. It had been re-written, and appeared, 
 doubled-leaded in the local columns. It was further 
 made interesting by the emphasis laid upon the fact 
 of the relationship of Colonel Jasper Fairfax to this 
 family, and, most astounding news of all the colonel 
 was in the direct line of succession to the title and 
 estate. 
 
 But, this cup full of wonders met with the traditional 
 slip. By the Colonel's participation, on the wrong 
 side, in the civil war, he had forfeited his rights to 
 this inheritance.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 201 
 
 Fairfax suspected his brother-in-law of the author- 
 ship of the article, or of putting himself in the way of 
 being interviewed. 
 
 Senator Cogswell was one of the first of old friends 
 to meet Fairfax and extend congratulations and con- 
 dolences in the same breath. It was in the office of 
 the Bellaire House as Fairfax was going in for noon 
 luncheon. Others came up, Doctor Dome amongst 
 them. 
 
 " It's a great pity," said the doctor, "that since we 
 had to lose, we had not lost without the war. The 
 niggers were not worth it." 
 
 " The principles were," Fairfax answered. 
 
 "And see what you lost, and now, after all these 
 years you are still losing;" from Cogswell. 
 
 " This English fortune I never possessed, so I can't 
 lose it. It simply goes by me like a dissolving view. 
 It's one of the might-have-beens. I'm not regretting 
 it in the least. It's not as much as one pickaninny 
 taken from me unjustly." 
 
 " They gave us good sound arguments against our 
 possession of the pickaninnies, and the worst of it for 
 us is they made their arguments stand." 
 
 " Yes, that's the sting of it. I suppose when this 
 other class of fanatics who disbelieve in the owner- 
 ship of land come and shovel our farms from under 
 our feet, then again, might will be right. When still 
 another army of long-haired, evil-odored preachers 
 of non-resistance descend upon us, we'll be converted, 
 stand still, and let them thrash us black and blue. 
 No, I thank you. I may be an old fogy, but I don't 
 subscribe to these mischief-making fads. I stand by 
 my rights and the rights of my state. I'm as good
 
 2O2 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 a patriot as ever Hale was. I wish I had been a 
 thousand rebels instead of only one." 
 
 Amongst the very few persons in Bellaire who 
 knew there was another Jasper Fairfax, there was 
 much speculation in regard to his chances of coming 
 into this estate forfeited by his father; but these 
 speculations were in whispers, as if even the name of 
 Adelaide Francis held reproach in it. After deserting 
 her husband and the South as she had done, the most 
 becoming thing for her was just what she was doing: 
 Keeping herself and her son out of the sight of old 
 friends. 
 
 Nothing in the world over-rides the supremacy of 
 trifles small matters of social life. Now, for Zoe 
 Fairfax the four deaths in the family of her English 
 relations, and the more than four years that her father 
 had passed in arms against the Federal Government 
 were nothing as compared with the importance of 
 receiving formal party calls from girls and their 
 mothers whom she had always known, and had here- 
 tofore visited without ceremony. Now she must have 
 a specified day at home, and handsome reception 
 dresses. 
 
 She and her mother went in state to call upon the 
 Countess Castlemere. In all her life she had never 
 seen a woman one half so magnificent. The Count- 
 ess was actually imposing in size, though she showed 
 no superfluous flesh. Her complexion was like ivory, 
 her eyes dark and lustrous, her hair snow-white. 
 
 When Mrs. Burgoyne presented Mrs. Fairfax and 
 her daughter, the Countess extended her beautiful 
 hand with its flashing rings, and greeted the mother 
 as any well-bred woman acknowledges an introduc-
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 203 
 
 tion. Her voice was soft and full, and she spoke 
 with a very pronounced foreign accent. She drew 
 Zoe to a low chair beside her own, and still holding 
 her hand, said; "Ah my Guido was right: the prettiest 
 girl in the world ! " 
 
 Zoe colored under the steadfast gaze of the dark 
 eyes, but, she felt that the praise of so gracious a 
 lady was infallible sanction of all the flatteries she 
 had ever received. She talked but little during the 
 call. Sally's flashes of wit were lost upon her friend 
 for once. She sat beside the Countess, listening to 
 her charming voice, basking in the splendor of her 
 great brown eyes, and wondering at the magnificence 
 of her dress. 
 
 The glamour of this influence remained with her 
 all the evening. Usually so outspoken in her pre- 
 ferences, voluble in praises of persons or things that 
 pleased her, at dinner and afterwards she was ex- 
 ceedingly quiet. To the questioning of her father 
 and the rallying of her uncle concerning the Count- 
 ess, she answered very earnestly, but in a subdued 
 tone: 
 
 "Oh she's magnificent! I cannot describe her. 
 She's a verified dream of all the beauty, all the grand- 
 eur of all women. She's Semiramis, Zenobia, Cleo- 
 patra. All descriptive words are weak when applied 
 to the Countess Castlemere." 
 
 "Ah listen ! listen ! " from her father as he and 
 Westlake exchanged broad smiles. " How is it ma- 
 ma, is this cousin of John Burgoyne, this mother of 
 that young jumping- Jack, such a paragon?" 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax laughed softly: "The countess is 
 certainly a very handsome woman. Colonel Bur-
 
 2O4 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 goyne is handsome too, and Count Guido is a model 
 for a sculptor as far as symmetry and expression go." 
 
 " Leaving out the question of color? " Fairfax 
 interpolated. 
 
 "Yes, leaving out the question of color, as you 
 see it. The countess is tall and large, like Colonel 
 Burgoyne. Her white hair gives her a strikingly 
 distinguished appearance; " 
 
 " I wonder who bleached it for her," Westlake in- 
 terrupted. " Zoe, woudn't you like to see her pict- 
 ures as a 'Before' and 'After' ? I fancy daddy here 
 could make them. The first would be black and as 
 kinky as Ceely's." 
 
 " Uncle Westlake, I'll never believe anything so 
 absurd of Countess Castlemere. She's as white as 
 I am." 
 
 Fairfax laughed as he felt the toe of Westlake's 
 boot touch his own, then he said : " We interrupted 
 mama. After the white hair, if it's a triumph of 
 the bleacher or the wig-maker, let it pass. What 
 next? " 
 
 " The Countess certainly clothes herself in great 
 splendor." Mrs. Fairfax smiled and looked at Zoe 
 as if asking her pardon; then continuing: "In fact her 
 profusion of jewels and the richness and showiness of 
 her dress seemed to me, bordering a little on bar- 
 barism." 
 
 "Just so!" Westlake said emphatically: "Semi- 
 remis, Zenobia, Cleopatra, and, the Queen of the 
 Cannibal Islands!" 
 
 Zoe's admiration of the Countess was not weak- 
 ened by anything that was said. The family, after 
 some pleasant raillery, dropped the subject, knowing
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 205 
 
 how an unsophisticated girl may be dazzled even by 
 inappropriate magnificence in an older woman. 
 
 However, a week or two after this call, Fairfax and 
 Westlake, coming home one evening a short half 
 hour earlier than usual, encountered in the parlor, 
 only lit by the blazing logs in the fire-place, Mrs. 
 Burgoyne, Sally, the countess and her son. 
 
 They were rising to go. Mrs. Fairfax presented 
 her husband and her brother. Each clasped for an 
 instant the gloved hand, each exchanged a few pleas- 
 ant, formal, common-place remarks. Neither 
 wondered at Zoe's infatuation. 
 
 Westlake afterwards declared to his sister and her 
 husband : " Why she's a regular battery. A few 
 claspings of that strong hand of her's, a' few glances 
 from those ox-eyes, a few words in the voice that 
 seems to rise from the polished heels of her hand- 
 some boots, and, at the lifting of her finger she'd lead 
 a fellow to heaven or hell, whichever way she hap- 
 pened to be going at the moment." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax laughingly declared it "all nonsense." 
 She was quite impervious to such an influence. Her 
 brother said, " Because there's nothing wicked 
 enough about you to meet it." She could not even 
 understand why Zoe should admire the countess so 
 extravagantly. 
 
 Fairfax said: "She's certainly a magnificent 
 woman as to size, symmetry, even coloring and cost- 
 uming, but, she's masquerading. There's something 
 unreal about her. In some way, in some degree, 
 she's a fraud. Being Burgoyne's cousin brands her 
 a fraud in the matter of breeding. She's mixed and 
 she knows it. She never forgets it. She probably
 
 2o6 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 deceived the man she married in regard to her origin. 
 Or, it may be, that, dazzled by her beauty and her 
 wealth, I believe they say she was rich in her own 
 right, nobleman though he was, he winked at so 
 small a matter as a drop more or less of Afro-Ame- 
 rican blood. Europeans generally, and impoverished 
 heirs of titles particularly, think less of these things 
 than we do. Whatever or whoever she is, I wish she 
 had stayed in Madrid with that impish son. I don't 
 like to see Zoe so charmed with them. They in- 
 fluence her more than any people we have ever met!" 
 
 " Well, my dear," and Mrs. Fairfax fluttered her 
 fan nervously, "if it were not for your settled con- 
 viction that these people are not white, I'm sure 
 I should not mind," she hesitated, looked appeal- 
 ingly from her husband to her brother and back 
 again. 
 
 "Oh Marcia! What do we know of them, only 
 that we don't care to know them? " 
 
 " But they are relations of ex-consul Burgoyne. Is 
 high place in Governmental circles to count for 
 nothing? " 
 
 " For nothing and worse in this case. Let us say 
 nothing more about it, only this: I want it distinctly 
 understood that I am uncompromisingly opposed to 
 any degree of intimacy between Zoe and these for- 
 eigners. Of course, they being at Burgoyne's and 
 their family and ours being on the friendly terms that 
 they are, we cannot cut off from them ; but, Zoe must 
 never, on any account go out with this fellow with- 
 out a chaperon. Never send her to Burgoyne's 
 alone, or even with one of the servants that he may 
 have an excuse to ride or drive home with her.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 207 
 
 Never on any pretext leave them alone together. 
 She's bewitched. I disliked the fellow the first 
 glimpse I had of him. I dislike him more since see- 
 ing his mother, hearing her flatteries of Zoe, and 
 watching her manner. Why she's exerting her in- 
 fluence, I read like a page of long primer. They 
 may be poor in spite of her magnificence, in spite of 
 the reports of John Burgoyne. Poverty, I wouldn't 
 mind. I wouldn't object to making some worthy 
 young American rich by giving him my daughter 
 and Fairfax Farms. What I do object to is these 
 black-amoors, of whom all we know is objection- 
 able."
 
 208 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 The birthday dance at Fairfax Farms was the open- 
 ing of a very gay season for Bellaire and vicinity. 
 The presence of Countess Castlemere and her son 
 had much to do with it. Though Burgoyne's neigh- 
 bors, without an exception fully believed him to be 
 an ex-slave, still, he was in a position to make him- 
 self necessary. He was accepted as a part of the re- 
 construction of the Union. Much blacker men were 
 the equals, before the law, of the bluest blood in the 
 States. So now, the Burgoyne place was very gay. 
 The whole house-full went everywhere. Sometimes 
 Colonel Fairfax wondered that he saw so little of the 
 Countess Castlemere. Westlake danced with her, 
 was paired with her at dinners, sat in corners and 
 talked with her until gossips began to say, " The old 
 bachelor is caught at last;" but his brother-in-law 
 rarely more than greeted her formally. Not that he 
 was conscious of trying to avoid her, but it always 
 seemed to happen that if they met, something or 
 somebody interrupted any attempt at conversation. 
 Fairfax never supposed that the countess maneuver- 
 ed to avoid him until the evening of a formal dinner 
 Mrs. Fairfax gave in her honor. Sitting at his right, 
 after a few attempts to interest her, he found that she 
 would not talk to him but gave her whole attention 
 to Mr. Cogswell. After that he accepted the fact that 
 the countess avoided him, without caring why she 
 did so. If he had been compelled to give a reason he
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 209 
 
 would have said, "probably it is because I don't be- 
 lieve in her, and instinctively she knows it." 
 
 There was a continual round of dinners, teas, 
 dances, charade parties, and mask balls. These last 
 came after the Holidays were over when everybody 
 was a trifle weary and thought of Ash Wednesday 
 with feelings of relief. In the masquerades there was 
 one draw-back for Zoe. Her father would not allow 
 her, upon any pretext, to keep him in ignorance of 
 the character she assumed. In vain she plead with 
 him to try for once if he could detect her amongst 
 fifty other flower girls, sheperdesses, Sisters of Chari- 
 ty, queens, gypsies, ghosts and peasants. He vowed 
 he could not consent to have his enjoyment of the 
 evening marred by the least doubt of her identity. 
 If he saw a girl stealing away to a shadowy nook 
 with an unknown cavalier to listen to he knew not 
 what nonsense, or sitting and talking out too many 
 dances, or flirting on the stairs, or in the conserva- 
 tory, he did not want to be tortured by the inquiry: 
 ' Is that Zoe? ' 
 
 No, she must show herself to him before going. 
 He would leave her at the dressing-room door with 
 her mother and the maids. He would receive her 
 there within so short a time as to make change im- 
 possible. Though he talked lightly of these matters. 
 Mrs. Fairfax knew he was very much in earnest. 
 Though he said nothing more of his dislike and dis- 
 trust of Countess Castlemere and her son since the 
 first, yet the family knew that the dislike and the dis- 
 trust were still in existence, augmented by time, con- 
 tinual contact and the undisguised flatteries of the 
 countess.
 
 2iO jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Young Castlemere was very popular as was but 
 natural. He was thoroughly cosmopolitan. Besides 
 his readiness in all fashionable indoor pastimes, he 
 was a most daring athlete, a bold rider, an expert in 
 all sports of wood and field. He had known recrea- 
 tions of which the natives of this mild climate had 
 only read and wondered. He had skated over the 
 shining surface of ponds and canals with rosy-cheek- 
 ed Holland girls. He had climbed along the edges 
 of precipices with picturesque Swiss maidens. He 
 had fished in the swirling streams with short-petti- 
 coated Norwegians. He was so boyish, so thorough- 
 ly good natured, so full of life. Only on one subject 
 was he serious. One fair-haired American girl had 
 taken the place of all that had gone before. To Sally 
 Burgoyne he declared that Zoe Fairfax was all he 
 had ever dreamed of girlish loveliness. He was not 
 obtuse, nor myopic. He could see that Colonel Fair- 
 fax did not approve of him. At first he was inclined 
 to think it was only the jealousy natural to a high- 
 class, wealthy father of an only daughter, but, he 
 noted the manner of the colonel towards other young 
 men. 
 
 He was wise, this Spanish Adonis and he wisely 
 counselled with his mother. He was all deference 
 to the father, all tender attention to the daughter. 
 He never sought to inveigle her into a tete-a-tete. 
 His words were the merest common-places, but there 
 was a world of meaning in the finely modulated tones. 
 If he touched her hand he did it as if receiving a favor 
 from a queen. The dark eyes continually sought 
 hers, continually expressed to her what he did not 
 dare to put into words.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 211 
 
 He was sure he was understood; understood by 
 the daughter, but, the father ? 
 
 When Castlemere was alone, or with his mother 
 he laughed, throwing back his handsome head and 
 showing his fine teeth. He was sure, so was his 
 mother, that the father was being hoodwinked. 
 
 Colonel Fairfax, watching this social panorama 
 distinctly saw the trend of affairs; but there was 
 nothing to which he could openly object. He saw 
 Castlemere's eloquent glances, and he read the an- 
 swer on the flushing cheeks, in the veiled flashes from 
 the forget-me-not eyes of his daughter. He would 
 say to himself as he paced the long parlors: " I'm an 
 old stager. It might be something to my comfort 
 if I had not so often watched the shadowings of love's 
 coming. It may be only fancy on Zoe's part. Half 
 the girls in the county are ready to fall at the feet of 
 this fascinating fraud, for fraud of some degree he 
 undoubtedly is. I'll take Zoe and her mother to Eng- 
 land in the Spring, as soon as it's pleasant to cross the 
 water. Marcia is not well. She's over-doing. In 
 the meantime I must see that no irreparable mischief 
 is done. Zoe may think herself in love with this 
 thing; but, change will be all that's necessary to 
 change her mind." 
 
 So, one thing that Colonel Fairfax opposed when- 
 ever it was mentioned was that Zoe should disguise 
 herself from him at a masked dance. Neither would 
 he consent to a plan that she and Fanny Jerome con- 
 cocted on one occasion of dressing precisely alike. 
 This was for the mystification of Castlemere and Clay 
 Jerome. 
 
 It was on an informal evening in the Fairfax par-
 
 212 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 lor, that the two young men who had grown to be 
 very warm friends agreed to dress as Faust and Me- 
 phistopheles at a mask ball to be given at Burgoyne's, 
 very soon. To the question of the girls as to which 
 character each would assume, on the impulse of the 
 moment they refused to tell. The matter may not 
 have been decided, but, when Clay's fingers lightly 
 touched Guide's arm, as Fanny asked who was to 
 wear the scarlet, the hint was given. At once it was 
 declared that that should be the secret. They ought 
 not to have mentioned it at all, but now the girls 
 might know that much, and everybody might know 
 it. It would be something new for their friends to 
 know, and yet not know. The two were the same 
 height, the same figure. Ah! it would be the prize 
 puzzle. 
 
 The most adroit questions of the girls were par- 
 ried. The young men laughed but remained firm. 
 The subject was dropped, then returned to abruptly, 
 all with no avail. 
 
 The next day Fanny called upon Zoe all excited 
 with her little plan to outwit her brother and Castle- 
 mere. It was to dress themselves precisely alike; 
 i to be two Marguerites. 
 
 Zoe clapped her hands and springing from her 
 chair she pirouetted about the room, employing some 
 of the many new and graceful poses she had learned 
 from Guido and Sally. This, then would be their 
 secret. The young men had jokingly wondered if 
 they would find Marguerite. What would be their 
 surprise when they should discover two, exactly 
 alike. The trifling difference in height and figure of
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 213 
 
 the two girls could be cancelled by the dress and 
 boot-makers. 
 
 That evening at dinner Zoe told the family of the 
 costume she had decided upon for the Burgoyne 
 fancy dress ball. Her surprise and grief were over- 
 whelming when, after her mother had applauded the 
 idea, after her uncle had declared it was a check-mate 
 for the boys, her father resolutely declared: 
 
 "No daughter; that won't do, not for a minute. 
 I wouldn't object to you going as the fair German 
 maid, but, not as a duplicate. Why, only think of it ! 
 I might be caught whispering to Fanny some of the 
 nonsense I talk to you. I might pinch her ringers 
 or kiss her chin below her mask. So many imprudent 
 things you and I indulge in! Think of the con- 
 sequences ! 
 
 Zoe laughed but there were tears in her eyes: "Oh 
 papa, Fanny wouldn't mind, she'd know it was you." 
 
 " But dear me! Ask mama if she wouldn't mind, 
 and, are you so sure I want to make love to Fanny 
 even by mistake? " 
 
 " But papa, I'd give you a sign whenever I came 
 near you." 
 
 " Then the boys would see you, and all would be 
 lost." 
 
 "Oh I had so set my heart on it," Zoe sighed. 
 
 " How would it do," Mrs. Fairfax asked, "to let 
 the girls go on with their joke and dress alike except- 
 ing the flowers they wear? 
 
 " Why mama, I'm sure Clay and Guido would see 
 the difference at once." 
 
 " We wouldn't mind that so much. I was making 
 the suggestion for papa's comfort."
 
 214 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " But you see we want to mystify them completely, 
 so that even if they guess who we are, as they prob- 
 ably would, they wouldn't know which one of the 
 Marguerites they were dancing with." 
 
 " Let your uncle settle it ;" said Westlake. "Wear 
 the same kind and color of flowers; but not one per- 
 son in a hundred would think to notice how many 
 flowers you wear. Suppose Zoe puts a red red rose 
 in each side of her hair, and two on her corsage. Let 
 Fanny wear one rose on one side of her head, two on 
 the other and three on her corsage." 
 
 " That wouldn't be half bad," Fairfax assented, but 
 what a problem for an anxiuus father to keep in his 
 head ! My girl wears four red roses, and as every one 
 supposes, now see! Why such things have sent 
 men raving. Then only imagine if I get it all mixed 
 and say six instead of four." 
 
 "Oh but papa, you won't; you have a good memory 
 we may go on with it? " 
 
 "Of course you will;" said Westake. " Dad and I 
 will occasionally remind each other that you are the 
 Big Four, and Fanny's the Invincible Six." 
 
 As the time for the ball drew near Clay Jerome 
 vainly questioned his sister as to the character she 
 meant to assume. Her answer was : " Tell me ; are 
 you to be Faust or Mephistopheles? " 
 
 Then he besieged his mother and his grandmother 
 Cogswell. No satisfactory answer was given. 
 
 He called upon Zoe, and, as the ball was the one 
 subject of interest, he said carelessly: 
 
 " Fanny's costume is going to be very pretty." 
 
 Usually Zoe was the most impulsive creature alive,
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 215 
 
 but upon this one subject she was prudent. She 
 answered : 
 
 " Yes? What is it? " and drew a step nearer as if 
 she fully expected a confidence. 
 
 Clay smiled in a way he meant to be sly, saying: 
 " Pshaw Zoe, you know all about it. There need be 
 no reserve between you and me." 
 
 " No," she answered, lounging on the arm of a 
 chair, "and since we both know all about it, there's 
 nothing to tell; no need of talking it over. You 
 know some folks talk best on subjects of which they 
 know nothing. They can indulge their imagination. 
 Have you any talent in that line? " 
 
 Clay laughed and said good bye. He knew he was 
 understood. 
 
 This ball was declared the most successful of the 
 season. Everybody was masked. The rooms were 
 crowded, the halls overflowing; the stairs were a 
 thoroughfare for ascending and descending parties, 
 or for loiterers to gaze upon the scene below. 
 
 The two Marguerites were greeted with exclama- 
 tions as they entered together, convoyed by a tall 
 black domino. Instantly they were besought by 
 Faust and Mephistopheles and they were placed vis-a 
 -vis in the same quadrille. It was more of a play for 
 the graceful Dr. Faust and his ally in scarlet than 
 a dance. They were almost constantly together 
 and when separated, communicated by a series of 
 signals. That they suspected at once the identity of 
 the two Marguerites was conveyed to each other in 
 pantomime. 
 
 But which was Fanny, and which was Zoe? They 
 stood gazing at the girls and waiting for the dance
 
 216 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 to begin. Suddenly the man in scarlet raised his 
 hand with the four fingers outspread. The girls, 
 with downcast eyes , were demurely fingering their 
 rosaries. This was a part of their plan of action. 
 When not dancing, they would follow each other's 
 every motion. 
 
 Doctor Faust answered the gesture of his ally, 
 and Mephisto with a glance and a quick movement 
 of his fingers directed attention to the flowers worn 
 by the Marguerite beside him. Then he raised two 
 others fingers, and pointed to the duplicate who stood 
 beside himself. The difference was discovered. The 
 tall black domino who had come in with the girls 
 stood not far away, and he gave no sign that the pan- 
 tomime had been seen and understood. The figure 
 moved quietly away, and where there were so many 
 back dominos, one more or less was not noticeable. 
 
 Very soon after that Doctor Faust said to Mephis- 
 to, "Who is that noble Roman? " 
 
 " Have no idea. He's just come in. One of these 
 big dominos is Colonel Fairfax. What I want to 
 know is, which Marguerite is his daughter, and which 
 your sister." 
 
 " Keep your eye on the domino that came in with 
 them, He'll keep close and dance with each one 
 soon. Can't you make the girls talk? " 
 
 " Not a word. If the Colonel would move away, 
 I'd try something daring." 
 
 " Don't be rash," with a laugh. 
 
 If the two German maids had been real mutes they 
 could not have been more silent. They, however, 
 were at once satisfied as to the identity of the young 
 men. The tall black dominos, there were at least a
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 217 
 
 half dozen, and one and all seemed for awhile to have 
 forgotten the girls. Then two of them marched to- 
 gether and invited the Marguerites to dance. Not 
 one word was spoken. 
 
 Faust and Mephisto watched closely, but they 
 could not say which was Colonel Fairfax. The girls 
 were again vis-a-vis, and in one of the changes of 
 the dance Zoe whispered to Fanny, "Neither one of 
 these is papa." 
 
 " How do you know? " 
 
 "Oh I'm sure ! It isn't his touch nor his motion." 
 
 Bye and bye came the stately Roman and took the 
 maid of four roses from the arm of Mephistopheles as 
 they were passing into the hall. He looked at her 
 tablet. The next dance was a minuet. He wrote 
 his name, Virginius, and led her to her place. The 
 dance begun, and every movement, every touch of 
 her partner's hand spoke to Zoe. She smiled behind 
 her mask, and as Virginius lightly touched her fin- 
 gers in the graceful measure she whispered " Papa." 
 Below the music and the rhythmic tap-tap of feet 
 came the answer: "Hush darling: Nobody knows, 
 not even mama." 
 
 Next the Roman danced with the other Margue- 
 rite, then with a Night maiden, then with a Nun. He 
 danced continually but managed to stay in the neigh- 
 borhood of the Marguerites. 
 
 Presently the two girls stood idly together, and 
 not far away were Faust and Mephistopheles. The 
 Roman, a few steps away made the third point of a 
 triangle 
 
 There was a lull in the music, and a great hum of 
 conversation began. There was a swift pantomime
 
 2i8 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 between Faust and Mephisto, and the Roman fol- 
 lowed the eyes of the two. He discerned at once 
 what was meant. The girl who had worn three 
 roses on her corsage had but two. He changed his 
 position. Each girl had a single rose on each side of 
 her head. He first thought that this was an accident. 
 The stems had broken, but Mephistopheles in an- 
 swer to a question from his ally took from his vest a 
 quantity of loose leaves and scattered them on the 
 floor. At the same time, he attracted the attention 
 of the girls and showed them that their little differ- 
 ence of costume was obliterated. 
 
 The Marguerite whose roses had been purloined 
 put her hands quickly to her bosom, then to her hair, 
 but, the other seiiously followed her motions and the 
 Roman laughed to see the nonplussed air of Faust 
 and his scarlet ally. The difference had been dis- 
 covered and spoiled, but was it of any use? 
 
 The girls could not tell, but the Roman caught an 
 inadvertent glance, an involuntary movement of Me- 
 phistopheles toward himself. Then, he not only fully 
 understood that Zoe had been identified by Guide, 
 but that his own disguise had been penetrated. The 
 roses had been removed to cheat him. But, could 
 this deft-handed, quick witted Afro-Spaniard (so he 
 called him in his thought), take from him the apple 
 of his eye and he be unconscious of it? 
 
 He looked at the two girls standing side by side. 
 He wondered that anyone could mistake one for the 
 other. He stepped quickly behind them, put a hand 
 on a shoulder of each, said close to the cheek of one; 
 " Daughter take off your mask now ; you've fooled 
 Mephisto and the doctor long enough."
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 219 
 
 At the same moment he uncovered his own face, 
 and the man in scarlet, as if under an influence he 
 could not resist slowly drew off his mask. 
 
 There was a quick exchange of glances between 
 him and Zoe. A wave of color swept over her face. 
 Then the eyes of Fairfax and Castlemere met. It 
 was a steady gaze while one might have counted five 
 ticks of a clock, but each read the other. Fairfax 
 knew that in the dark eyes that met his own above 
 his daughter's head, there was a glint of defiance, 
 lie knew too that he was in the minority; that in her 
 heart Zoe was plighted to this handsome, dashing 
 stranger. 
 
 Castlemere, on his part saw more plainly than ever 
 before, antagonism to himself as a suitor for Zoe. 
 Heretofore he had been governed by his mother's 
 counsel. He had masked his intentions under the 
 most delicate diplomacy. Now, this night, when all 
 were masked, the secret stalked abroad bare-faced. 
 Colonel Fairfax in his carefully arranged disguise 
 had run to earth the two young maskers, but, he 
 too had been discovered. Hereafter, instead of the 
 polite neighborliness, the masterly finesse on his 
 part, and the deferential acquiescence, the graceful 
 yielding of the young count, it would be open war- 
 fare. 
 
 Each felt a sort of relief. The thought of the 
 father was: "I'll plan a trip somewhere immediately. 
 I'll get the child away as soon as possible. We ought 
 to leave all this bustling and fussing for Marcia's 
 sake. How pallid and weary she looks!" 
 
 A half hour after, all masks were removed, and the 
 lover said to a magnificent Cornelia: "I think Senor
 
 220 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Fairfax took great labor upon himself to watch the 
 pretty daughter. He has been assured of something 
 without spoken words, and it doesn't please him." 
 
 Cornelia laughed softly, gazing into her son's eyes: 
 "Ah my Guido, shall you not have whatever you 
 desire, even if be Fairfax Farms? "
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 221 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 " I want a vote on going to New Orleans in time 
 for the Mardi gras.''' Colonel Fairfax said at the din- 
 ner table the next evening after the masquerade. 
 
 "Good idea!" Westlake answered. "I'm ready.' 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax looked surprised but remained silent 
 and Zoe gasped: "Oh papa!" 
 
 " Why such consternation? " 
 
 "I am surprised; and, we have so many engage- 
 ments." 
 
 "Well; Marcia," turning directly to Mrs. Fairfax, 
 "nothing to say? Are these engagements so ex- 
 ceedingly important? " 
 
 "They are certainly important from one point of 
 view. We must keep them excepting something of 
 greater importance presents itself. Seeing Mardi 
 gras in New Orleans is an old story. If it were going 
 to Rome for the Carnival;" and she paused with a 
 rising inflection. 
 
 " If we had time, we might go to Rome." 
 
 " I shouldn't like to cross the water at this season." 
 
 "No that wouldn't be advisable; but, really dear, 
 you ought to rest." 
 
 " Lent will soon be here, then I'll rest without go- 
 ing away." 
 
 "Why do you wish to go papa, because mama isn't 
 well? " 
 
 "We're not going to frighten mama, but Dr.
 
 222 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Henry doesn't seem to strike the right thing for her 
 cough." 
 
 " Mama says it's only a cold, and we're all having 
 such a good time." 
 
 " Yes, but this good time is a much older story 
 than Mardi gras in New Orleans. I'm dead tired. 
 I'd like a slow trip down the Mississippi, finding each 
 day the air growing milder, the scenery more 
 tropical. 
 
 "Oh papa, I'm sorry, you wouldn't like to go 
 alone?" 
 
 " No indeed ; but I'll go if you'll go with me. Mardi 
 gras isn't an old story to you. We can invite Fanny 
 Jerome, or any one or two or a half dozen girls to go 
 with us." 
 
 " No boys? " and Zoe shook her head slowly, smil- 
 ing and coloring. 
 
 " No boys, most emphatically. It's the flirting 
 element in this good time we're having that wearies 
 me." 
 
 " Papa, to go away now would be to miss the an- 
 nual tea at Dr. Ballantyne's You know how feeble 
 he's growing, and how sensitive he is. I wouldn't 
 like to seem to treat him unkindly." 
 
 " Very well, we'll wait until after the tea, and talk 
 about it again." 
 
 Talking about it again only brought to light real 
 reasons for going and not going. Mrs. Fairfax first 
 made a plea against the expense of a traveling outfit 
 in the transition season. Then the risk to health was 
 enlarged upon. She and Zoe were both weary with 
 their social duties; in no state to be starting upon a 
 journey.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " For that very reason I wish to go." her husband 
 answered. " For your sake particularly there ought 
 to be a season of absolute rest. I'll wager you are 
 fifteen pounds lighter than you've been within the 
 last twenty years. The loss of that much flesh from 
 a slender body like yours, means danger." 
 
 " Don't worry ; my dresses are made from the same 
 measure I've used for twenty years, probably." 
 
 " You don't fill them dear, and look at that." He 
 lifted her hand by the finger tips, and held it against 
 the light. " It reminds me of those skeleton leaves 
 the girls were messing with last summer." 
 
 His arguments, his kindly tenderness were of no 
 avail. At his wits end he thought for a moment of 
 exerting warrantable authority, and saying, " We 
 will go on such a day. Try to be ready," but, look- 
 ing at his wife's thin, flushed face, noticing how care- 
 fully she used her voice so as not to provoke that 
 rasping cough, he said: 
 
 " Dear, if not for your own sake, then for Zoe. I 
 have no more desire to leave home than you have, 
 and, if you were taking proper care of yourself, I 
 think you'd soon be better; but for Zoe's sake, let us 
 go. To wean her from this daily increasing infatu- 
 ation for Castlemere; to give her new subjects of 
 thought, new people, new scenery. For this reason 
 I wish to go, and go quickly." 
 
 She listened in silence till he was quite done. 
 Then, "J as P er > I really think you are unreasonable. 
 I cannot see that Guido gives Zoe any more atten- 
 tion than is fitting under the circumstances." 
 
 " But, my dear, you know how much I, at least 
 deplore the circumstances. If it were not for the way
 
 224 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 in which we have lived with Burgoyne's family for 
 the last ten years, that frisking Jackanapes should 
 never set foot in my house." 
 
 " You will probably think it very foolish of me, 
 to say that you are very much prejudiced." 
 
 " No, not foolish if you think so; but I've told you 
 from the first why I object to Castlemere." 
 
 " There is where your prejudice blinds you. You 
 fancy there's a taint in his blood." 
 
 " Fancy ! I wish I might be as sure of an immortal 
 soul as I am that somewhere in the not remote history 
 of this fellow and his mother there was a darkey." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax frowned, and dropped her clasped 
 hands on her lap with a gesture of impatience. 
 
 " I dare say, if any young man we know should ap- 
 proach Zoe as a lover you'd object to him, for some 
 reason." 
 
 " No, you're mistaken. I know a full half dozen 
 estimable boys, sons of old friends, boys I've known 
 since their birth, and whose fathers and mothers I've 
 known all my life. That sort of lover, or husband 
 for Zoe I should not object to." 
 
 "Well I must confess, "Mrs. Fairfax said airily, 
 and she smiled while a pink line grew at the edges of 
 her eyelids; "I must confess I have more ambition 
 for our daughter than that she shall marry a village 
 clown." 
 
 "If she's to marry a clown at all I prefer one of 
 whose antecedents we know. In the same measure 
 that these boy friends are clowns, so is Zoe's father, 
 your husband, a clown. We've had the same sur- 
 roundings, we've been educated in the same schools
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 225 
 
 and colleges. If there is any difference it is in favor 
 of the later generation." 
 
 " To say the very least, then, there's no young man 
 amongst our friends whom I would prefer before the 
 young Count Castlemere." 
 
 " He may be a count, and he may not be ; but for 
 that I care not one copper. It's the man I object to." 
 
 " I cannot see how you can object to him in the 
 abstract, leaving out your notion of mixed blood. 
 He's very finely educated, his manners are faultless. 
 He knows books and he knows the world. He's 
 travelled everywhere." 
 
 " So has Prax, my valet, travelled everywhere that 
 I have. The tent pitchers of a circus are great travel- 
 lers too. I know of all the advantages this Afro- 
 Spaniard has had, and, in spite of them all, I set my 
 face against the matter of him presuming to address 
 Zoe. 
 
 Fairfax had been walking up and down the room. 
 Now he stood before his wife and looked down at 
 her as he continued : "You are here at home with her. 
 It is your office to see to it that there is no privacy in 
 his calls." 
 
 " There has been no privacy. Count Castlemere, 
 in accordance with the usage of his country will, un- 
 doubtedly speak to you before he allows Zoe to sus- 
 pect that he loves her. He would perhaps think you 
 presumptious if he knew how you regard him. What 
 I fear is that will not condescend to Zoe." 
 
 " You fear he will not condescend? Good 
 God! You have reached that point? " 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax rose from her chair. 
 
 "Don't stand over me like that! I've tried to
 
 226 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 reason with you, but you are too stubborn, too much 
 tied down by your own opinions and your own pre- 
 judices to listen to reason. Zoe is mine as well as 
 yours. I expect to have a word to say in regard to 
 her settlement in life. The first thing to be consider- 
 ed is her happiness. If, as you suspect, her affections 
 are engaged, and if your other suspicion is based on 
 truth, that Count Castlemere cares for her, they have 
 my full consent to be happy together." 
 
 While Fairfax listened to his wife, every vestige 
 of color left his face. He scarcely breathed, so great 
 was his astonishment. He felt as he might if the floor 
 had suddenly given way beneath him. He was re- 
 called to his senses by Mrs. Fairfax sinking into a 
 chair, and writhing in a paroxysm of coughing. He 
 quickly brought her remedies from her sleeping 
 room, administered them, and wiped the beads of per- 
 spiration from her face. Two things he knew now 
 for a certainty: Talking was useless, worse, it was 
 harmful. He rang the bell for Ceely, then: 
 
 " I've kept you up too long, dear; be sure to have 
 Ceely do everything that Henry requires. Good 
 night." 
 
 It was in the midst of the Lenten season and there 
 were no balls now, nothing but teas, and lean lunch 
 parties. But, something must be done to fill the 
 time. Often when Colonel Fairfax came home from 
 business there was the sound of music in the house, 
 and there were to be seen, Zoe at the piano and near 
 her Castlemere with the broad embroidered ribbon 
 of his guitar crossing his shoulder. Sometimes Sally 
 Burgoyne assisted with her mandolin or in a piano 
 duet. In some nook of the place would be seated
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 227 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax and the countess, perhaps Mrs. Bur- 
 goyne. There were always some one or two of the 
 family with the young man, and he and Zoe were 
 never actually alone together. But, their music was 
 absorbing. They were not interrupted in practicing 
 it, nor in their talking it over. 
 
 The father, noting these things would not have 
 been surprised to have the young foreigner approach 
 him "in accordance with the usage of his country." 
 Until that happened, he must remain passive. He 
 shrunk from speaking seriously to Zoe, and, not one 
 more word to his wife. She seemed to grow thinner, 
 more languid, each day. He hoped that Zoe might 
 see the man in his real character. So, he made no 
 more open objection to him. He feigned indifference, 
 masking as he could his contempt. 
 
 The Countess was talking of going away soon; 
 where she did not know. She and her son knew of 
 many pleasant retreats in many lands. They talked 
 to Zoe and her mother of going with them, but this 
 Mrs. Fairfax knew she dare not think of. 
 
 Fairfax, hearing of this proposed flitting, watched 
 the coming of the Spring with impatience. He wished 
 "he might for one instant sieze the glass of time and 
 shake it till the burning sun of July should suddenly 
 glow in the heavens. He hoped that Castlemere was 
 only amusing himself. If he went away without for- 
 mally declaring himself, Zoe might be disappointed, 
 but, she would forget him; she must forget him. 
 Never had girl so devoted a father in place of an un- 
 worthy admirer as he would be to her.
 
 228 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 The farmers called it an early Spring. Easter Sun- 
 day was balmy, and odorous with the blossoms of 
 fruit trees, the budding of beech and maple, with 
 young grass and clover, and the pervading scent of 
 fresh earth from plowed fields. The young year was 
 full of promise. 
 
 It was the middle of the week after Easter that 
 Colonel Fairfax sat in his office idly gazing out of the 
 open window. His mind was continually on the rack. 
 The visitors at Burgoyne's place still tarried, still 
 frequented his own house. He had spoken to Mrs. 
 Fairfax about plans for the summer, but she replied 
 evasively. He asked Zoe in her presence if she would 
 like to cross the water, and she too gave an indirect 
 reply. Only this morning there had been one of these 
 unsatisfactory conversations at the breakfast table. 
 Nothing had been determined upon, and soon after 
 the colonel and Westlake left the house together. 
 
 Before they reached the gate, Fairfax said: "If 
 'twere not for Marcia's state of health, I'd decide this 
 matter in a hurry." 
 
 " Seems to me for that very reason you ought to 
 decide it." 
 
 " I don't believe you know how weak she's grown; 
 and any excitement brings on those terrible par- 
 oxysms of coughing. Henry fears hemorrhage." 
 
 " What does he say about change of air? " 
 
 " Very little. He advises quiet, ease of mind and
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 229 
 
 all that. It's what he doesn't say that troubles me. 
 I'm afraid he has no hope, and feels that she may be 
 more comfortable at home." 
 
 " That's very often the case." 
 
 " I believe mountain air would be beneficial, but 
 I can't force her to go." 
 
 There was a sharp clatter of hoofs, and around a 
 bend in the road came Sally Burgoyne, and her 
 cousin on horseback. Sally drew rein, and asked 
 gaily if Zoe would be ready. 
 
 " I think so," Fairfax answered, not deigning to 
 mention that he knew nothing of the day's program. 
 As the young riders passed on, he asked Westlake: 
 " Do you know where they are going? " 
 
 " Not I, but of course Marcia knows." 
 
 Fairfax muttered a curse. Westlake quoted: "I 
 do not like you Doctor Fell." 
 
 " I know why I don't like this fellow. I wish I 
 could persuade myself that Marcia is right, that I 
 am prejudiced. However, I hope they'll soon be 
 gone." 
 
 They rode on in silence. It was a bad beginning 
 of the day, but, there was no sign of perturbation on 
 the handsome face of the president of the bank as he 
 greeted his co-workers. He took up the business 
 of the morning, and worked at it resolutely for an 
 hour, then suddenly, as if some bolt or pulley in the 
 mental machinery had refused to work, he stopped. 
 He could not have told how long he had sat gazing 
 out of the window and seeing nothing when one of 
 the clerks came in and handed him a card. He took 
 it and read:
 
 230 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Goeffrey Carleton Q. C. 
 
 London, England. 
 
 Only for an instant he wondered what it could 
 mean; then came the rememberance of his kindred 
 across the sea. All these months he had been so 
 absorbed in his immediate surroundings he had for- 
 gotten, for the time, the grief in Treslyn Castle. 
 When the door opened again he rose to meet a large, 
 robust, typical Englishman. Fair and florid, side- 
 whiskered and bald. That much was to be seen at a 
 glance. The two men, whose eyes were on a level, 
 clasped hands, and mentally took each other's 
 measure. 
 
 As the lawyer seated himself he said abruptly: 
 " Colonel Fairfax I wish in my soul that you were 
 yourself the heir I am seeking for the Treslyn title 
 and estate." 
 
 " Thank you for your good wishes. I am not 
 covetous. Since I am not the heir, what can I do for 
 you?" 
 
 "A very great favor; and yet a mere technicality. 
 We've been delayed owing to the feebleness of Lord 
 Treslyn. Miss Fairfax and her sister knew of the 
 receipt of a letter by their grandfather from an Amer- 
 ican cousin who, they said visited them when they 
 were children. 
 
 " Yes," the colonel assented, "and Leigh Fairfax 
 and I carried on a correspondence for two years or 
 more." 
 
 " Not one scrap of a letter could be found amongst 
 his papers. He was careless of such matters."
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 231 
 
 "One must be sometimes. Letters accumulate and 
 become a nuisance. I doubt if I have one of his." 
 
 " Your letter last winter to Lord Treslyn also dis- 
 appeared, and the broken old man could not remem- 
 ber in what spot of this great continent you lived. 
 However, he remembered your baptismal name, as 
 did Miss Fairfax. We tried 'personals' in several 
 New York papers without results. As a last resort 
 I wrote to the secretary of the British Legation at 
 Washington who is a friend of mine. He has been 
 in Washington for fifteen years. His answer waSj 
 that for some time he had known a boy named Jasper 
 Fairfax; that, struck by his personnel, he had inquir- 
 ed into his history. He learned that he was the son 
 of a widow, that they were poor, but of excellent 
 family, and a few other unimportant matters. 
 
 " I had always had a great desire to visit America. 
 In this case I was quite sure that a personal investig- 
 ation would be more satisfactory, as well as more 
 economical of time than correspondence. Time is 
 of consequence. Lord Treslyn is failing rapidly. 
 He wishes most anxiously that his successor should 
 be there before his death. I believe the conditions 
 of the charter too make some such requirement. At 
 least the passing lord must be cognizant of his suc- 
 cessor. 
 
 "Upon my arrival in Washington I very easily 
 traced the young man described. I find him a most 
 estimable youth ; a son any father might be proud of. 
 I found too, that his mother is not a widow save by 
 the grace of the law. Further I discovered that this 
 young man is the son of the cousin who is remember- 
 ed by Lord Treslyn and his grand-daughters; and
 
 232 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 who, according to the charter of the title has for- 
 feited both it and the estate. The young man's 
 mother, a most charming woman, gave me the whole 
 history of the sad affair. Believe me, Colonel Fair- 
 fax you have my heartiest sympathy." 
 
 " Thank you/'was answered stiffly. 
 
 " Now what we want of you, Colonel, as I said be- 
 fore, is the merest technicality. Owing to the peculi- 
 arities of the case, we take your deposition as it were." 
 
 While Mr. Carleton was speaking he had opened 
 a long shiny leather pocket book, and, taking from it 
 a folded sheet of legal cap, he spread it on the desk in 
 front of Fairfax. 
 
 " Here are a few queries, a few blanks which you 
 will kindly fill out with your name, or with other 
 words and dates as you will readily see." 
 
 Fairfax, without in the least changing his position 
 or his countenance, and with but a glance at the 
 document, answered: 
 
 "That's all very well, Mr. Carleton. As to this 
 boy who bears my name, I have only to say. I've 
 never seen him; know nothing of him." 
 
 " Certainly sir, you knew of his existence? " 
 
 " I had a letter from my divorced wife's father 
 telling me of the birth of the child. Needless to say, 
 perhaps, the 1 etter was not acknowledged, and I 
 never had a second." 
 
 "Am I to understand sir, that you doubt the 
 paternity of the boy? " 
 
 " No, sir, you're to understand no such damned 
 thing. His mother was my wife." 
 
 " Then, do you object to the young man inheriting 
 this title and estate? "
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 233 
 
 "Not in the least; but he must come into posses- 
 sion without the stroke of pen of mine." 
 " But, my dear sir, why this attitude? " 
 Fairfax leaned back in his chair and laughed in 
 the lawyer's face. 
 
 "Are you feeble-minded, or do you think I am? " 
 " I am sure, Colonel Fairfax, I see no sign of 
 weakness in your mental faculties, and I think I 
 know myself pretty well." and the lawyer laughed in 
 his turn. 
 
 " Yet you ask me to put my name here, and there, 
 and there, saying this unknown youngster is my 
 son by my wife Adelaide Fairfax, nee Francis. Mar- 
 ried on such a date, son born on such another date. 
 You probably do not know that I married a second 
 time? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, I knew of your second marriage. I 
 know too that you have a charming daughter." 
 
 "All that, and also what effect the signing of my 
 name here, and there, and there, would have on my 
 daughter's inheritance." 
 
 " Well bless my soul sir, if you take that view of 
 it. 
 
 " What view did you expect me to take of it? " 
 " Why, my dear sir, don't American fathers pro- 
 vide for all their children? " 
 
 " Not always, neither do English fathers." 
 " But all children born, in wedlock? " 
 " It depends entirely upon circumstances. The 
 circumstances in this case, in its present stage, are 
 such that I, in a measure control them. When my 
 first wife insisted on an absolute divorce, she held 
 the whip. I was scourged by her, by her father, and
 
 234 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 the fortunes of war. I lost my wife and much of my 
 patrimony. I passed several miserable years in tent 
 and field. I was wounded, ill, a prisoner, and, de- 
 feated at last. Out of that grievous time, after all 
 these years, comes this boy. He first saw the light 
 where the door was shut in my face because I stood 
 by my principles. He has always lived with my 
 enemies. But, I wish him no harm; I have no wish 
 concerning him. I don't know him, nor care to 
 hear of him. I am entirely indifferent as to what ul- 
 timately becomes of him. You may give him this 
 estate, or you may give him to the devil ; but, of one 
 thing be sure: I put my name to no instrument like 
 that in his behalf." 
 
 " But, Colonel Fairfax, what are we to do? " 
 
 " Take the word of the boy's mother. I'll never 
 dispute it." 
 
 "That, under the circumstances will not satisfy 
 English law." 
 
 " Damn English law ;" and Fairfax leaned back in 
 his chair as if the interview was ended. 
 
 " I did not mention that young Fairfax and his 
 mother came with me from Washington and " 
 
 "Are they here? " 
 
 "No: no they went further, to Lexington, the 
 native city of the lady I believe. There was the death 
 of a relative and some business matters to attend. 
 I await them here, and we go back to Washington, 
 I had hoped, to England together." 
 
 " I see no good reason for a change in your pro- 
 gram. While you are waiting for the coming of your 
 client I shall be glad to see you at Fairfax Farms. 
 I shall be delighted to do anything for you but "
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 235 
 
 "But this one thing? Ha! Ha! Thank you, Col- 
 onel. I shall certainly hope to see you again. Think 
 this matter over. We only want justice." 
 
 "You shall have justice; probably not precisely as 
 you see it, but of the sort that Kentucky produces." 
 
 The two men shook hands in the most amicable 
 manner. The Englishman went out to gaze on the 
 beauties of the American spring and to ponder on the 
 far-sightedness of the American farmer, banker, and 
 ex-colonel in the Confederate army. 
 
 "What a pity!" he soliloquized; "what a thou- 
 sand pities! Such a fine figure of a man as he is! 
 How well he would grace Treslyn Castle! Even in 
 the House of Lords he would be a man to catch the 
 eye, and bless my soul! the ear too. What a pity 
 that handsome woman couldn't have kept him on the 
 right side of the war. He must have been very much 
 in earnest. He'll never sign these papers. No, he's 
 not the man for that. The estate must go, and the 
 title die with old Leigh. Pity for the boy. He's poor, 
 but he's worthy of his father, quite worthy,'*
 
 236 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 That evening as the two men rode homeward, Fair- 
 fax described to his brother-in-law his interview with 
 the English lawyer, finishing with "Of course you 
 knew of my first marriage? " 
 
 " Yes, I knew of it. Marcia told me of it, and in- 
 cidentally Jerome has mentioned it." 
 
 "Jerome was in the inner circle: Best man at the 
 wedding, and less than four months later met Ade- 
 laide's lawyer to arrange terms of divorce." 
 
 " If an annulled marriage could be made a finality, 
 but, there are always troublesome, or at least em- 
 barrassing consequences. I've felt afraid, always 
 that you might hear from the Francis family in an 
 unpleasant way." 
 
 "Of course, but, I don't mind this. I know the 
 nature of this bother, and I know how to meet it. 
 One never can tell what consequence may grow out 
 of even a trivial action, nor where the consequence 
 may crop out. When it comes to such a tragedy as 
 Adelaide and I enacted, my only surprise is that the 
 after effects have been so slow in coming, and are not 
 more serious now that they are here." 
 
 "You're not through yet. It may be serious 
 enough." 
 
 " Unless there arise some complications, and I 
 can't see where there's chance for any but the very 
 plainest of sailing. I wish this matter at home could 
 be disposed of as easily. But that's an alien affair.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 237 
 
 I can't see that it in any manner belongs to me. I 
 don't understand why these quadroons should be 
 foisted upon me. If I, or any of my name had ever 
 been concerned in mixing the two races, I could 
 accept Burgoyne and all his brood. I don't deny 
 that once, I came devilish near it; but my reform- 
 ation was complete while the girl was alive and stain- 
 less. If she had lived another twelve hours, she 
 would have been free to go where she pleased. If 
 the gods are treasuring that offense against me, 
 seems to me they've grown picayunish, or turned Re- 
 publican in politics." 
 
 "Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed Westlake. 
 
 " You see Colonel, the moral is in the intent not 
 in the action." 
 
 " Seems to me, for my intent, the loss of a big 
 substantial house with its thousands of dollars worth 
 of furnishings, as well as the two chattels ought to 
 be accepted as fair payment. No, that's far fetched. 
 I see no connection between that time and this;" and 
 he fell to musing of things that were not pleasant. 
 Though he put a brave face on the matter, the visit 
 of Carleton had been like the rough touch of a care- 
 less hand on a half healed wound. 
 
 His life had been so full of action since the separ- 
 ation from Adelaide it seemed sometimes as if it had 
 been but a dream that he had ever been supremely 
 happy for a little while, then numbly wretched, stol- 
 idly miserable, too crushed and hopeless even to 
 know how he was suffering. He suffered with all 
 the strength of his soul and his body, and when men 
 friends watched to see him break, to show some sign 
 of weakness, he guessed their thought, and wished
 
 238 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 he could feel like plunging into excesses and carous- 
 ing time into eternity. But, his smoothe fine face 
 never showed a line. When, at their last meeting 
 and after all arguments, all pleadings with Adelaide 
 had not moved her to forego an absolute divorce, and 
 she had said she would resume her maiden name, as 
 he might wish to marry again, he answered her as he 
 had answered Salome: "Certainly I shall marry. A 
 man in my position must marry." 
 
 Now it all came back to him, and his thoughts 
 settled down and wound themselves about the one 
 couplet he remembered of a poem he had read some 
 time, somewhere. The hoofs of the horses beat it out 
 as they trotted over the smoothe shady road, and he 
 came near answering Westlake's desultory talk with: 
 
 " There is mockery in our wooing, there is death 
 
 in all our houses; 
 He liveth best who lovest least, the fool alone 
 
 espouses." 
 
 Of the women he had loved, of the children that 
 were born to him, could he say there had not been 
 more of bane than blessing? Salome, Adelaide, Mar- 
 cia. Of his wife his thoughts were kindly, pitying. 
 In her weakness was her strength. He must stand 
 like the great rock by the sea, and let the waves dash 
 against him, knowing the waves were growing 
 weaker, less frequent, and bye and bye would be gone 
 with the tide and reach him no more. 
 
 And Zoe. How sweet she was as a baby! As a 
 wee maiden how she had always come flying down 
 the drive to meet him, to shower him with kisses, 
 wilted flowers, candies. Forcing upon him a doll, a
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 239 
 
 kitten a puppy, anything she had achieved in his ab- 
 sence, and assuring him in baby patois that she had 
 been "awfu' lonesing all day widout oo." As a slim 
 school-girl how sensitive she had been to his praise. 
 As she grew older, as he watched her development 
 into womanhood, beautiful, gracious, how precious 
 she grew day by day. Now to see her being bewitch- 
 ed by this dark-faced foreigner; to be forced to re- 
 main passive while she was wooed away from all 
 that was best for her, to feel himself powerless where 
 her whole future was concerned, made him wish she 
 had never been born. But, would he not be justified 
 in exerting his authority against the tacit if not open 
 encouragement of his wife? Dr. Dome had 
 urged upon him the necessity of avoidance of excite- 
 ment. " She is so weak," he said, "a hemorrhage 
 would make short work of her." There was nothing 
 to do but to drift. He had reached this conclusion 
 as the horses stopped at the gate. It swung open,, 
 and as they neared the house he saw Sally Burgoyne 
 and Clay Jerome on the veranda. Their horses were 
 held by a boy just beyond the steps. He saw his 
 wife rise from a settee and disappear within the hall 
 as his own team stopped. 
 
 He greeted the young people, glanced at their 
 horses, then, "When did you arrive? " 
 
 "Just this minute," Clay begun, then seeing Fairfax 
 look again at the horses, he hesitated, and turning to 
 Sally: "I think about ten or fifteen minutes ago." 
 
 Sally, less diplomatic said, earnestly, "Oh longer 
 than that, the clock was striking five as we came up 
 the steps you remember I counted, and the half 
 hour sounded some time ago. I can't imagine what 
 is keeping Zoe and cousin Guido."
 
 240 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " Where did you leave them? " Fairfax asked. 
 
 "We started, all together from the falls," Clay 
 said, "but Guide's horse fell lame, and I don't re- 
 member just where we lost sight of them." 
 
 " Prax," Fairfax called to the man just within the 
 hall, "tell Tim to saddle Flash for me. Be in a hurry." 
 
 Westlake attempted to remonstrate as Fairfax 
 walked up and down the pavement at the foot of the 
 steps, but he cut short in a way his brother-in-law 
 had never spoken to him before. 
 
 " Will that boy be all night? " 
 
 Just then Tim came, man and horse both running. 
 Fairfax had swung himself into the saddle when Sally 
 exclaimed: 
 
 "Oh Colonel there they are, don't go. Oh I'm so 
 glad!" 
 
 "A very lame horse, too," Fairfax snarled. " I 
 thought better of you, Clay." 
 
 The young man ran down the steps and stood be- 
 side Fairfax: "Upon my word Colonel, the horse 
 limped." 
 
 "Another trick," and as the riders approached Fair- 
 fax dismounted, his horse was led away but he kept 
 his riding whip in his hand. As the two came up 
 he seized the rein of Castlemere's horse with one 
 hand and raised the whip. 
 
 "Oh papa! papa!" was the scream he heard and 
 in the same instant he felt his uplifted arm grasped 
 by two slender, quivering hands, and, spoken close 
 to his face, "Jasper, what do you mean? Are you 
 crazy? " 
 
 Slowly his arm descended till the whip trailed on 
 the ground. He dropped his hand from the bridle, 
 and drew that of his wife within his arm.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 241 
 
 Castlemere leaped from his horse and, his hand- 
 some face glowing and defiant said: "Colonel Fair- 
 fax, I ask your pardon for one thing : for speaking to 
 your daughter before asking your permission to do 
 so; but, I have been assured that it is the custom of 
 the country. I do not ask pardon for making for 
 myself an opportunity to speak to her. She went 
 with this little party to-day with her mother's con- 
 sent. I have done no wrong. I love her. I want 
 her for my wife." 
 
 Zoe stood beside him with downcast eyes and 
 flushed cheeks. Fairfax looked at her, not at Castle- 
 mere. There was but one conclusion. She had 
 listened, she had given her word. But, her father 
 would not give up the fight. He would take time. 
 This dark-eyed, brigandish, dashing stripling should 
 not rob him thus suddenly. Almost in a whisper he 
 said: "I know nothing of you. I don't believe in 
 you. I would rather give all the remaining years of 
 my life than that this had happened." 
 
 Taking Zoe's hand he said, "Go in the house, dar- 
 ling. I'll talk to you bye and bye. After that, sir," 
 turning to Castlemere, "I'll answer you. Now go, 
 and don't let me see you here again until I send for 
 you." 
 
 Castlemere bowed low, took a step forward as if he 
 would detain Zoe, but the uplifted hand of her father, 
 still holding the whip, intercepted him. He bowed 
 to Mrs. Fairfax, and the Colonel could have sworn 
 he saw a smile gleam in the dark eyes, to be answered 
 by a most kindly, "Good night, Guido," from the lady. 
 He mounted his horse, and the other two joining 
 him they cantered away together.
 
 242 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 In the heat of anger, in the storm of indignation 
 it had been easy for Fairfax to say he would talk to 
 Zoe. Afterwards he found it was one promise he 
 had made that he was inclined to shirk. It seemed 
 a profanation of her maidenly innocence. The longer 
 he thought of it, the more repugnant the matter be- 
 came. 
 
 There was an air about the house that had never 
 been there before, an air of reserve, strange and chil- 
 ling. No matter how any or all of the family tried 
 to ignore it, it was there. 
 
 Zoe avoided her father's presence. She did not 
 speak to him excepting he addressed her directly. 
 He was more than usually kind and tender towards 
 her without the return of a single smile. When he 
 kissed her good-bye at going away of mornings, and 
 in continuance of a habit formed in her childhood 
 said: "Be papa's good girl," she answered, "Yes, 
 papa," in a tone that gave him a heart-ache for the 
 rest of the day. 
 
 Very soon it was discovered there was much gos- 
 sip afloat. Sally Burgoyne, frightened at the behav- 
 iour of Colonel Fairfax, indignant at his treatment 
 of her cousin, had reached home in a state bordering 
 on hysteria. She had excitedly told the whole story 
 in the presence of her parents, Countess Castlemere, 
 and a few callers, as well as her brothers and sisters 
 and a half dozen gapeing servants. 
 
 Within a day or two, stories were abroad to the 
 effect that there was a most grievous offence to an- 
 swer for; that Colonel Fairfax had severely beaten 
 the young 'count, and if it had not been for the in- 
 terference of Mrs. Fairfax there would have been
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 243 
 
 murder. When curious persons sought out Clay 
 Jerome and asked for the truth of the matter he gave 
 it. He and Castlemere were friends, but, Colonel 
 Fairfax was his ideal. After many inquiries had 
 been made of him as to the exact occurrence at Fair- 
 fax Farms, he counselled with his mother. What 
 could be done? What ought to be done to stop the 
 tongues of the gossips? 
 
 Mrs. Jerome was shocked to hear of the many un- 
 reasonable versions of what had really happened. 
 She decided to speak to Mrs. Fairfax about it at once. 
 It was a shame that a half hour's recklessness in a 
 young man, and a thoughtless girl's acquiescence 
 should create a scandal. She would do as she would 
 thank a friend to do for her in like case. 
 
 Much to her surprise she was not allowed to in- 
 troduce the subject. Mrs. Fairfax took the initiative. 
 She deplored the behaviour of her husband. He had 
 disgraced himself and his family. Her indignation 
 was boundless. It was his hot-headedness, his pre- 
 judice. He was breaking her heart through his 
 cruelty to Zoe. There was not the least palliation for 
 his conduct. She was sure he would have killed 
 Guido if she had not held his arm. 
 
 Mrs. Jerome smiled in her handkerchief. She had 
 seen her husband try to hold the arm of Jasper Fair- 
 fax. 
 
 Her hostess continued to pour out her grievances 
 in regard to her husband's opposition to young Castle- 
 mere. " No girl in Kentucky, nor in America" she 
 declared, "would allow a suitor like Guido to sue in 
 vain." 
 
 Mrs. Jerome smiled again. Her son and the
 
 244 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 young count, or whatever he might be, she always 
 added mentally, were the best of friends, as such 
 things go between young men. They were together 
 much of the time. Castlemere came to the house 
 with the greatest freedom. But, when her daughter 
 was rallied by other girls for allowing the fine match, 
 in spite of the great advantage her brother's friend- 
 ship gave her, to slip through her fingers, her reply, 
 with a dainty shrug, and a throwing out of her hands, 
 was: 
 
 " I agree fully with Zoe's father. He has always 
 suspected Colonel Burgoyne of being a thieving, run- 
 away slave. So has Grandpa Cogswell. When I 
 have a husband I don't want a job-lot of assorted 
 colors. I'll take him as the newspapers say Ken- 
 tuckians take their whiskey ; 'straight.' " 
 
 Mrs. Jerome tried to comfort Mrs. Fairfax with 
 the assurance that all the talk would blow away; and 
 as the young man had avowed his love openly, and 
 expressed a desire to marry Zoe, probably the wisest 
 thing would be to let them consider themselves 
 engaged, for a year or two, and announce the engage- 
 ment at once. 
 
 Yes, Mrs. Fairfax thought so too, but, no doubt 
 the Colonel would oppose her in this as he had in 
 everything connected with the young people, and Zoe 
 would die of heart-break, and she would never dare 
 to lift her head again amongst her neighbors. 
 
 That evening the little private parlor on the second 
 floor witnessed what might have been a domestic 
 storm, had not Fairfax, with all the finesse he was 
 capable of, controlled his wife's fretful mood. He 
 reiterated his promise to talk to Zoe. She was so
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 245 
 
 young, she did not know her own mind. This feeling 
 she was influenced by was, fancy glamour. 
 
 " When will you talk to her? " Mrs. Fairfax asked 
 scornfully. 
 
 " Now, I reckon, where is she? " 
 
 " In her room, I suppose. She's been suffering 
 with a headache all day. If you had any feeling for 
 her you would have seen that she ate no dinner." 
 
 "Of course if she's ill, I'll not disturb her." 
 
 Descending the stairs he came out upon the 
 veranda. The night was warm and summer-like. 
 Westlake lounged in a hammock and smoked. The 
 trees were full of summer sounds, the twitter of nest- 
 ing birds, the flutter of young leaves. But, in this 
 human habitation, divided against itself there was no 
 comfort for the master of all the broad acres. He 
 felt as if laboring under the tortures of a long con- 
 tinued nightmare. Was there no escape from it? 
 Could he not influence Zoe through her affection for 
 him? Ah it was doubtful. This other love, this 
 mating of the sexes, this natural law, this was the 
 strongest tie of all. If it had been any other man of 
 Zoe's acquaintance, any one above the suspicion of 
 this one thing, he thought that, at a suitable age he 
 could have borne, he even would have been pleased 
 to see his dear girl married. 
 
 In the morning he would talk to her. He would 
 take her for a long drive; then she could leave him 
 at the bank after they had talked it all over. He 
 would tell her of mistakes he had made. He would 
 tell her, perhaps of her half-brother. He could not 
 bear that she should first hear of this from any one 
 else.
 
 246 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIIL 
 
 Absorbed in his troubled thoughts Fairfax saun- 
 tered down the steps, round the corner of the house, 
 along the walk and into the avenue of beeches. It 
 was a legend in the family that his great-great grand-- 
 father and his brother had planted the trees, and then 
 the beech twigs marked a path from one log cabin to 
 the other. They had paid a good round price to 
 have the county road curve so as to leave the trees. 
 They had been cared for by all of the name that came 
 after the first two for more than a hundred years. 
 The Colonel wondered now if these gracefully sweep- 
 ing branches had ever shadowed any other man with 
 so heavy a heart as his own. Had any other Fairfax 
 ever had so small a hold on happiness as he? What 
 would life and home be without Zoe? If he must 
 give her to this foreigner, she would go away, and he 
 would prefer it. So strong was his dislike of the man, 
 so settled his conviction that he came of ignoble 
 parentage he felt that he could not bear to have Zoe 
 near him not knowing what time might bring to 
 prove that he was right. He grew dizzy and faint, 
 this strong wrestler, this champion swimmer, this 
 soldier who had faced the worst that four years of 
 war could do. He leaned against the trunk of a tree. 
 The perspiration stood in icy beads on his forehead. 
 
 But hark ! There is a quick, light step on the walk 
 towards the house. It is not Marcia, too quick, too
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 247 
 
 light for her. Nearer and nearer it came. He peered 
 through the interlacing branches. It is Zoe. 
 
 Had his intense thought summoned her? Ah, 
 why had he doubted his influence? .He stepped 
 quickly from beneath the sheltering branches and in- 
 to the open walk as she came near. 
 
 "Zoe, darling," he said, putting out his hands to 
 detain her. 
 
 She started back as if frightened. 
 
 "Oh papa! I I didn't expect to see you! " 
 
 Her manner, her emphasis, sent a chill over him. 
 He took her hands, they were trembling. She sub- 
 mitted limply to be detained. The words he spoke 
 came stiffly, hoarsely from his lips: "Whom did you 
 expect to see? Where were you going? " 
 
 She hung her head and made the very faintest 
 movement of resistance. 
 
 "Tell me daughter, why were you out alone and 
 hurrying away from the house? Your mother said 
 you were ill." 
 
 "I'm better. I think the cool air will do me 
 good." 
 
 " I think so too. Come, if you care to walk I'll 
 walk with you." 
 
 She drew back. " No, I'll go to the house, please 
 papa." 
 
 He held her firmly. " Zoe, look at me. Tell me 
 the truth. Where were you going? and what were 
 you going for? " 
 
 "Oh papa, please let me go." 
 
 "Where you going to the ruin? Tell me truly." 
 
 " Yes, papa," in the faintest whisper. 
 
 " Were you expecting to meet Castlemere? "
 
 248 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " Yes, papa," and head and shoulders dropped till 
 her face rested on her father's hands as they held her 
 own. 
 
 "Oh my daughter! My baby!" He clasped her 
 closely in his arms. " Do you doubt my love for you 
 that you try to deceive me? Tell me all about it. Have 
 you ever met him there before? " 
 
 " No papa, never." 
 
 " How was this meeting arranged? Has he been 
 to the house? " 
 
 " No papa, he sent a note by Jack Burgoyne." 
 
 " Does your mother know of it? " 
 
 " Yes, papa, she said I might see Guido at the 
 ruin." 
 
 "Ah my poor little girl!" 
 
 There came to him a swift vision of Zoe lying still 
 and white in a darkened room, pure, sweet, untainted 
 by deceit, beyond the power of evil. In his heart he 
 wished it was so instead of this. 
 
 " Darling, come with me. I'll go with you to the 
 ruin." 
 
 "Oh papa! " and a white, convulsed face was lifted, 
 "please don't go, you'll kill Guido." 
 
 " Daughter listen. For your sake, because of my 
 love for you, I would spare the life of the most 
 venomous reptile that ever the good God created, if 
 you loved it. If you desired it, if it were for your 
 happiness, it should sting me to death before your 
 eyes. Come." 
 
 Not another word was said. Together they went 
 down the long avenue, amongst the swaying shad- 
 ows of the trees. The night was still, a half moon 
 made a mellow light over the massive walls, draped
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 249 
 
 with budding vines. The shrubberies had grown in- 
 to a wilderness, the grass, protected by the untrim- 
 med trees grew lush and long and swept half way 
 over the walks. Somewhere amongst the walls, a 
 whip-poor-will whistled, an owl hooted from the top 
 of a broad chimney. Looking upward, Fairfax 
 plainly saw the night-bird through a rift in the trees, 
 outlined against the sky. 
 
 He pressed Zoe's hand. " Where were you to 
 meet Castlemere?" 
 
 " In the drawing room by the big stone." 
 
 Fairfax thought of it now, he had thought of it a 
 thousand times. Knowing the house as he had 
 known it, bearing in mind so perfectly the geography 
 of this room, he would have sworn that where that 
 stone lay was the exact spot where he and Salome 
 had stood when they were last together, where he 
 left her standing after kissing her hands and assuring 
 her, that, though she was his slave, he would wait her 
 own time to accept him as her lover. Here too Tim 
 insisted was where the woman ghost sat looking into 
 the broken fire-place on the night of Zoe's birthday 
 dance. 
 
 It was but a flitting thought, but a ripple in the sea 
 of trouble that engulfed him. It was gone as they 
 entered the door, and saw in the soft light a figure, 
 motionless and dark, standing by the stone. 
 
 Their steps over the matted grass of the walks had 
 not been heard, but as they entered Castlemere start- 
 ed forward. He paused, seeing who had come, and 
 his hand sought his bosom. 
 
 " Colonel Fairfax, are you armed? " and he flashed 
 a stiletto in the moonlight.
 
 250 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 "No; nor are you." 
 
 How it was done Castlemere never could tell. He 
 felt a vise-like grip on his wrist, it was shaken swiftly, 
 dextrously, and the slender weapon flew from his 
 paralyzed fingers, looked a flash of lightning as it 
 sped through a wide window, whizzed through the 
 branches of the trees, then jingled on the debris of a 
 fallen wall. 
 
 " Now, barbarian, don't be a fool if you can help 
 it. Tell me in the fewest possible words why you 
 inveigled this girl in to meeting you here. No lies, 
 or I'll wring your neck. Talk of arming myself to 
 meet you! " 
 
 " Colonel Fairfax I asked your daughter to meet 
 me here because you forbade me your house." 
 
 " This is my house, as well as the other. I think 
 a very small amount of horse sense would have en- 
 abled you to understand that my house covers a 
 number of acres of land. I meant all that." 
 
 " Truly I did not for a moment misunderstand you. 
 I know the spirit of your command was that I should 
 not see your daughter. But, we are going away, my 
 mother and I. We are going home. From there, 
 somewhere else for the summer months. We go 
 soon. Our passage is about to be engaged. You 
 said you would talk to Zoe and would then answer 
 me. It has been three days, and I had no message. 
 I had to know before final arrangements were made 
 for our going on the City of Paris." 
 
 "Why this urgency? I could have sent my answer 
 to Madrid, to Jericho; to Hades." 
 
 "Ha! Ha!" laughed Guide. "You are pleased 
 to be facetious. How can I leave my love," and he
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 251 
 
 extended his beautiful hands toward Zoe, "how can I 
 leave her if I may perhaps persuade her to go? Tell 
 the father, sweet, that you only await his consent. 
 The dear beautiful mother has already said yes." 
 
 Fairfax was dumfounded. How rapidly had these 
 matters progressed under his very eyes, and he hop- 
 ing by persuasion to stay them; he thinking it per- 
 haps a boy's amusement, a girl's infatuation. Was 
 this an affair that meant only extravagant flatteries? 
 Would the memory of this soft-tongued black-amoor 
 be blown away by the summer winds after he should 
 cross the sea? Evidently there would be no chance 
 left to decide. And so, Mrs. Fairfax had consented 
 to let the marriage take place at once. 
 
 Because of the going to Europe of one of his de- 
 positors, Fairfax knew that the City of Paris sailed 
 from New York for Havre on the twenty second. 
 This was the twelfth. Ten days. In that one moment 
 of silence he knew that that was the length of time, or 
 really a day or two less, that he would have his 
 daughter daily in his sight. He turned to her, his 
 voice was low and steady. The strength of endur- 
 ance had come. He had been shaken with grief 3 
 overwhelmed by the thoughts of this great loss when 
 it had seemed possible to avert it. Now it was upon 
 him. He was numb and chilled, but, he was not 
 dead. 
 
 " Zoe dear, do you wish to be married before the 
 twenty second and go away then? " 
 
 " I've promised, papa, and we hoped you would be 
 kind, and say good-bye to me." 
 
 "Ah! " the sigh came near being a groan. "What 
 does your mother say? "
 
 252 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " Mama said you would forgive me after I'd gone 
 away, and that you and she would join us in Norway, 
 or wherever we go for the summer." 
 
 " Tell me Zoe, was this marriage to take place 
 without my consent? without my knowledge?" 
 
 " Mama thought that would be the best way." 
 
 " Pray believe me, Colonel Fairfax, I meant to 
 speak to you. Clay Jerome knows what my inten- 
 tion was. You remember, you said you would send 
 for me." 
 
 " Yes, I remember ;" and he looked from one to 
 the other of the two, not much more than children. 
 How could he blame them? How could he tell how 
 much Zoe had been influenced by her mother. She 
 had fancied Castlemere from the first, and she had 
 been dazzled by his title, his evidences of wealth and 
 all that it implies. He knew how ambitious she was 
 in things of this kind, how much weight position in 
 society had with her. 
 
 As to Castlemere, Fairfax was sure that the boy's 
 mother, for reasons easily guessed, had singled out 
 Zoe for her son's wife. She may have been urged 
 to it by Burgoyne. With these two impulsive children 
 he felt no anger, though as he gazed on Castlemere's 
 dark, handsome face, what he suspected him to be, 
 together with old memories of the spot on which 
 they stood bred in him a feeling of repulsion that 
 was hard to control. But, he put it aside. He said : 
 
 " Castlemere, think better of it. You are too young 
 to marry. Go away for a year. You may send Zoe 
 a letter every day. Think of it. She too is young. 
 This fancy you have for each other may wear away. 
 If it does, and you are free from each other what a
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 253 
 
 fine thing it will be. If you are married and find 
 you've made a mistake what a grief it will be! " 
 
 "Oh papa!" and Zoe clung to his arm, "don't 
 send Guido away ! " 
 
 " There is one thing that Colonel Fairfax forgets ;" 
 and Castlemere removed his hat, standing bare- 
 headed, the soft light making an aureole of his 
 lustrous hair. "Our riding party of a few days ago 
 how much I regret it, but the tongues are wag- 
 ging, saying cruel things. If I go away alone, and 
 you see little Zoe is nearly ill now, the cruel 
 tongues will lash her to death. I know it is not fancy 
 we feel for eaih other. Oh believe me Senor, I love 
 your daughter, I cannot go and leave her." 
 
 While Castlemere was speaking he had moved 
 nearer. Unconsciously, it seemed, Zoe had put out 
 her hand to be clasped in both of his. Unconscious- 
 ly she was drawing away from her father. 
 
 " It is fate," Fairfax said under his breath, then 
 aloud: "Ah yes, I see. It will be as you had ar- 
 ranged, without my consent if you do not get it. I'm 
 too late. But, listen to me Castlemere. I would 
 rather than this pale trembling girl, have given you 
 all else I possess. I would stand before you a beggar 
 in all save my strength and my possession of her. 
 I would go into my neighbors' fields and work, day 
 by day beside the black men for her support. But 
 now that you take her instead of my less valuable 
 lands and money, if ever you grow weary of her, if 
 for one moment you regret filching from me what 
 makes my life worth living, then in God's name, send 
 her to me, at once. Don't break her heart by neglect.
 
 254 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Don't be cruel to her, not even by a thought. Will 
 you do this?" 
 
 "As the great God hears me I will." 
 
 He stood with right hand uplifted, palm outward. 
 Then, still clinging with one hand to her father, Zoe 
 lifted her lips to meet her lover's. Her arm, the lace 
 of her sleeve falling away and leaving it bare, clasped 
 his neck and lay against his dark hair. 
 
 " Now go, Guido," she said softly as she turned 
 from him to her father. 
 
 " Good night Senor, and God keep you." 
 
 " Good-night," in a hoarse whisper from Fairfax 
 as he clasped Zoe's hand and led her away. 
 
 In silence, as they had come, they passed up the 
 beech avenue. As they neared the house, they saw 
 Mrs. Fairfax pacing up and down between the first of 
 the trees. She heard their steps, peered into the 
 shadows, and recognizing them said: 
 
 " Dear me, Jasper, I wondered what had become 
 of you." 
 
 " You were not wondering about Zoe, of course? " 
 
 " I left her in her room, as I told you and I sup- 
 posed, " 
 
 He faced her in the light on the first steps of the 
 veranda: "There, don't tell me what you supposed. 
 I know all about it. Take Zoe and finish the work 
 you've been at for the last several months. There is 
 no more need of deception. Prepare her as you will 
 for the sacrifice. Invite any of our friends you wish, 
 to witness our humiliation. Our daughter will be 
 married on the twentieth, here in this house. She 
 shall not steal away from her father like a slave."
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 255 
 
 " Well, I'm sure I'm glad you've concluded to be 
 reasonable. There's talk enough now." 
 
 " Thank yourself for the talk ; but let us have no 
 more talk about it here. Make what preparations you 
 please. Don't consult me. I want to hear nothing 
 of it till the last day; and mark this: As far as I am 
 able to judge, you are wholly responsible for Zoe's 
 part in this business. Whatever comes to her in the 
 future, you can thank yourself for it." 
 
 " I am more than willing to take the whole re- 
 sponsibility of it," and smiling placidly she led the 
 way into the house.
 
 256 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax told herself that though she had met 
 her own share of disappointments, she had never 
 really known regret until she faced the necessity of 
 making ready, in a week, for her daughter's wedding. 
 This event to which she had looked forward ever 
 since Zoe was born, on which she had meant to 
 exercise all her taste, expend all her pride must now 
 be hurried through like any nobody's wedding. She 
 would have much preferred to have it go on as a semi- 
 elopement. That she had carte blanche as to ex- 
 penses was no comfort, as long as the sun had never 
 been known to stand still but once, and Joshua was 
 the last of his kind. 
 
 When she made her plaint to the Countess Castle- 
 mere, she was comforted with the assurance that 
 both she and her son were entirely charmed with the 
 sweet bride; they cared nothing for her adornings. 
 A trousseau would be burdensome. Since they were 
 going directly to Paris, the bare idea of making pur- 
 chases on this side was next to absurd. There was 
 nothing outside of Paris that properly matched Zoe's 
 delicate beauty. In the future every garment she 
 wore should be purchased in this city of artistic 
 modes. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax was comforted. Very soon, next 
 year, perhaps, she would go to Europe, wherever 
 Zoe might be. She felt sure, that then she should see 
 her, matured into a splendid woman of the world;
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 257 
 
 her bearing, her toilettes those of a queen. She 
 would find her gracing her high position, and sham- 
 ing her father's stubborn, groundless suspicions. 
 She found no difficulty in obeying her husband's in- 
 junction in regard to silence concerning the wedding. 
 She was too busy even with the scant preparations 
 she could make to care to talk of mornings, and of 
 evenings, she lay on her couch, utterly exhausted. 
 To her husband's repeated counsel to be careful, to 
 spare herself, she answered, sometimes impatiently, 
 sometimes not at all. He came and went as usual, 
 keeping himself occupied all day long, keeping out 
 all thought of what was coming save as it remained 
 with him as a sub-consciousness and gave him a 
 heart-ache and an inexpressible weariness. By tacit 
 consent the wedding was not mentioned in his 
 presence at home, and Castlemere timed his daily 
 visits so as to avoid the master of the house. 
 
 With Zoe, her father was love and kindness per- 
 sonified. When he went away in the morning she 
 was the last to take leave of him at the carriage step 
 or at the stirrup if he rode Flash. In the evening 
 she was at the gate to meet him, to ride to the house 
 nestled against him or perched behind him, both 
 laughing and gay as if there was not a care in the 
 world. 
 
 One evening when her father swung her down 
 from behind him, Tim said: " Miss Zoe, I dun'no 
 how 'tis. Todder day at de stable my gal done got 
 up byhint me on Flash, an' he des got up on he fo' 
 legs an' walked about." 
 
 " Flash knows me, don't you Flash? " and she ran
 
 258 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 up the steps to get from Sheba the hand full of sugar 
 with which she always rewarded him. 
 
 For these few days she was again the petted little 
 child. If she and her father were in the same room, 
 she sat on his knee, or on the arm of his chair. Each 
 seemed trying to obliterate from the memory of the 
 other the shadow of estrangement that had been 
 thrown between them for that grievous little while. 
 
 At his office, in the streets of the town, in all the 
 places his neighbors were accustomed to see him. 
 Colonel Fairfax was the same affable, courteous 
 friend, the same pleasant, alert man of business they 
 had always known him. 
 
 The presence in Bellaire of so distinguished a per- 
 sonage as the English lawyer, Carleton, was not over- 
 looked. Not many strangers of this type visited the 
 community. 
 
 There was no attempt made on his part, nor on that 
 of Colonel Fairfax to keep his mission a secret. They 
 were often seen together. Mr. Carleton was enter- 
 tained at Fairfax Farms at dinner and over night. 
 He was introduced to the old friends of the family, 
 and his stay in Bellaire was made pleasant in all 
 ways excepting in regard to the matter that brought 
 him there. 
 
 Whenever, in the course of a conversation during 
 one of their after-lunch smokes, or on the long drives 
 they had together through the country, or when they 
 were leisurely strolling about town and that one sub- 
 ject was broached, Fairfax would smilingly shake his 
 head: "None of that, Mr. Carleton. I've said all 
 that I have to say. Spare yourself further effort in 
 that direction. I'll not put my name to this paper.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 259 
 
 I'll not sign away one half of my birthright for less 
 than Esau got for his. When your client comes, 
 bundle him off to England and make a lord of him. 
 I've not the least doubt but it will be much more 
 than his mother's son deserves." 
 
 When Mr. Carleton talked of his business in Bel- 
 laire with the friends of Colonel Fairfax, he found no 
 one who sympathized with the divorced wife. All 
 who knew of that marriage and the cause of its an- 
 nulment agreed fully with the Colonel. The rem- 
 nants of the fires of factional hatred blazed out on 
 several occasions, and Adelaide Francis and her 
 father were denounced most bitterly. 
 
 Mr. Carleton found that there were many Ameri- 
 can matters that he but faintly understood. One was, 
 the real cause of the war. He had also to wonder 
 over a most tantalizing problem: Would the North 
 and the South ever be entirely united? 
 
 Amongst the acquaintances the Englishman made 
 in Bellaire, none were kindlier, or more hospitable 
 than Senator Cogswell. As lawyers the two found 
 themselves companionable. As an old man, Cogs- 
 well gave the Englishman much interesting local 
 history. As a lifelong friend of the Fairfax family 
 he entertained his new acquaintance for hours with 
 history, tradition and readings of character. 
 
 On an evening when the Cogswells gave a little 
 family dinner with Mr. Carleton as the guest of honor 
 and the one stranger, he found it necessary to ex- 
 plain that he was not remaining in Bellaire with any 
 hope of obtaining the signature of Colonel Fairfax 
 necessary to make his unacknowledged son a man of 
 wealth and title. He was simply awaiting the move-
 
 260 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 ments of the young man and his mother. They were 
 in the state, and for himself, he found it pleasanter 
 waiting here than in Washington. He had apprised 
 Mrs. Fairfax and her son of the hopelessness of his 
 errand with the colonel. He had asked them if it 
 might not be worth their while to stop here, and talk 
 the matter over with him, and perhaps with Colonel 
 Fairfax himself. 
 
 Then Mrs. Cogswell declared it would be shameful, 
 if Adelaide came to Bellaire, to have her stay at a 
 hotel and be stared at. She must come to us, 
 must'nt she dear? " appealing to her husband. 
 
 " Certainly dear, certainly," he answered. 
 
 They had known Adelaide since childhood. She 
 had gone to school with their own girls. She had 
 visited in Bellaire, and they had frequently met her 
 at summer and winter resorts. After several years 
 of separation, Mrs. Cogswell had unexpectedly met 
 Adelaide one day on the street in Washington and 
 the broken friendship was patched together. Now, 
 in return for a few fragrant cups of tea served by the 
 young to the old woman, it was ordained that there 
 should be a few days of rest, and petting, and review- 
 ing of old happy times. 
 
 To all of this Senator Cogswell readily agreed. It 
 had been a hard struggle with him to go to see his 
 old friend Francis, but, once there, he was softened 
 by the signs of poverty that surrounded the family 
 He thought that a man who would relinquish all that 
 Archie Francis had for the sake of principle must 
 have been very much in earnest. He tried to see 
 political matters from the view point of these im- 
 poverished Unionists. Then Adelaide; so beauti-
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 261 
 
 ful, so sweet, so womanly; ministering so unselfishly 
 to her father and her son. Sometimes Senator Cogs- 
 well would say to his wife, " I don't see how Jasper 
 could choose as he did! " 
 
 To which Mrs. Cogswell would reply, " Well, dear, 
 it's just as hard for me to comprehend Adelaide's 
 action. I'm sure I never could have deserted you." 
 
 " No indeed ! and I'm not handsome like Jasper ; 
 ha! ha!" 
 
 So, through all these years, as Cogswell still re- 
 tained his seat in Congress, he was a frequent visitor 
 at the plain little home of Archibald Francis. The 
 most interesting member of the little family was the 
 boy, Jasper. The old Senator watching him through 
 all this time continually deplored the fact of his se- 
 paration from his father. Now when the thing most 
 talked of was the trouble brewing at Fairfax Farms, 
 he shook his head, saying to his wife, "Ah it's a 
 thousand pities! That boy at Washington will never 
 make such a blunder. Zoe's a dear, sweet girl, but, 
 she's like her mother; she's no Fairfax." 
 
 Next in importance to the coming wedding of Zoe 
 Fairfax was the revival of the fact of her father's first 
 marriage and its consequences. Everybody knew 
 that the father and son had never met but that the 
 English lawyer was going to arrange a meeting to 
 try to effect a compromise in the matter of the in- 
 heritance across the water. Everybody knew more 
 of these things, and felt greater anxiety about them 
 than did the family directly concerned. For once 
 Mrs. Fairfax was too busy to wonder and fret about 
 "the other Mrs. Fairfax." Her husband had told her 
 of the first call of the lawyer and what he had deter-
 
 262 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 mined upon. She said to her brother, "there was 
 no need of worrying, Jasper was too stubborn to 
 change his mind." 
 
 To Colonel Fairfax all the buzzing of tongues was 
 nothing, less than nothing. His first wife and her 
 son might come and go when and where they pleased. 
 It mattered not to him. It was this other, this wife 
 who was dying before his eyes, this child who was 
 making such an irreparable mistake, these troubled 
 him. For these he felt himself numb and half dead, 
 and yet so painfully alive and conscious. If not 
 speaking to some one, it seemed to him there were 
 only two facts in the world: The day of the month, 
 the number of days to elapse before Zoe's wedding. 
 At times he felt that he must cry out against the 
 swift rising and setting of the sun. Then he wished 
 he might fall asleep and so remain till it was all over. 
 He often smiled to think he had ever before grieved. 
 This only was sorrow. 
 
 Two days before that appointed for the marriage 
 ceremony, Colonel Burgoyne called upon Westlake 
 at his office, and after much wandering talk, finally 
 made it understood that Count Castlemere and his 
 mother expected something in the way of marriage 
 settlements; at least an understanding as to the sum 
 per annum that the future countess would have from 
 her father, or in spot cash to take away with her. 
 
 Westlake threw up his hands and backed away 
 laughing: 
 
 " You know how the colonel feels about the mar- 
 riage. Do as you think best about speaking to him. ' 
 
 " But you manage much of his business for him.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 263 
 
 His business man is the proper person to arrange 
 the whole affair." 
 
 " Yes, he advises with me on business matters, but, 
 I'm entirely at his disposal. I wouldn't take the 
 liberty of crossing- a T without his full consent. I'll 
 speak to him in your presence, but I'm as sure of the 
 answer as I am that I'm alive." 
 
 Together they went to the bank, to the private 
 office of the president. Again Colonel Burgoyne 
 began meandering through a long preface. 
 
 Westlake watched his brother-in-law arranging 
 and re-arranging, with quick nervous movements, 
 the desk furnishings. He knew in a minute there 
 would be a storm. With his usual off-hand manner, 
 he cut in, with " Come at it at once, Colonel, or allow 
 me to say to brother Fairfax that you are envoy for 
 Count Castlemere to negotiate marriage settle- 
 ments." 
 
 "Ah! That is easily disposed of. I'm not pur- 
 chasing Count Castlemere. I don't want him. I 
 know what my daughter's necessities are, and will 
 probably supply them. As to any formal marriage 
 settlements," he compressed his lips and set his jaws 
 squarely, " I make nothing of the kind." 
 
 "Of course you'll do as you please; but, it being 
 the custom of the country where the Count and your 
 daughter expect to live, you know " 
 
 " I know I don't care a damn for the customs of 
 any country but my own in an affair like this. If I 
 had adhered to Kentucky customs I'd have thrashed 
 that gypsy beggar within an inch of his life." 
 
 "Colonel, Colonel!" Westlake remonstrated.
 
 264 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " I know what I'm saying, and to whom I'm saying 
 it." 
 
 Burgoyne rose to go. " You cannot imagine. 
 Colonel Fairfax how much it grieves me that our 
 friendship should receive this blow; that this tie that 
 should draw our families nearer to each other seems 
 likely to cause coldness, if not enmity." 
 
 " Let us talk no more about it. I've forbidden 
 my wife and daughter to mention it to me. I only 
 wish to God that Castlemere would not take the girl 
 without a stated dower." 
 
 "Ah you are not treating the boy justly. He 
 would gladly marry your daughter were she disin- 
 herited and a beggar in the streets." 
 
 " Possibly, but I don't believe it. But granting 
 you are right; I like him none the better. It would 
 not cancel, in the least my objection to him as a hus- 
 band for my daughter."
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 265 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 The day before the wedding, and a gentle rain was 
 falling, a soft, lazy, irresolute rain; the sort of rain 
 that tempts children to stay out of doors, and that 
 hurries nobody. 
 
 Colonel Fairfax sat in his office, his desk open, 
 books, pens, pencils, all the paraphernalia of business 
 scattered about, partly from force of habit, partly to 
 hide from any who might come, the suffering that 
 was rending him. 
 
 As in a dream he was groping for a reason for his 
 pain. His life had been no intricate labyrinth. It 
 had been plain and common. There were no tangled 
 threads. Each event that met him he had seen rise 
 naturally, and as naturally he could trace it to its 
 close. If a grievance had come to him from his first 
 wife, or from her family or her friends he would have 
 recognized it as the legitimate sequence of his own 
 actions; a something that he, having planted, must 
 also reap and garner. But, up to now, all that had 
 come from that wr ck to him had been the corroding 
 memory of the quarrel and the parting, and the un- 
 reasonable jealousy of his second wife during the 
 first years of their life together. This last had been 
 exceedingly unpl asant. It had grown and flourish- 
 ed until in its very exuberance it had strangled it- 
 self. 
 
 The desert spot left by the killing of this poison- 
 ous growth he did not pretend to deny; he passed it
 
 266 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 in silence, only saying, ' Better that than the Upas 
 tree." 
 
 Any other consequences from that time had yet to 
 develop. True, here was this Englishman dogging 
 him, but, that was nothing. He was master of the 
 situation. He was glad this question had arisen in 
 his own life time. He was glad too that it was a 
 foreign property in jeopardy; for in spite of his be 
 lief in his indifference he was rather pleased than 
 otherwise that Adelaide's son could not attain to 
 wealth and station excepting by and through his 
 sanction. If it had been an American property, his 
 neutrality in the business would have made no differ 
 ence for or against it. The high respectability of the 
 mother of the heir would have been guaranty. 
 
 So, this morning he sat wondering, still trying to 
 find, if not the thread that should lead him out of this 
 maze, at least the way by which he had come into 
 it. The past lay like an open plain in his memory. 
 Here and there was a hillock marked by a white 
 stone, lettered with the names of kindred, friend, 
 comrade, nothing more. Even the one great sin 
 that for a time lay upon his conscience like an un- 
 quenchable fire, he felt had been expiated; that it 
 was in revenge Salome had perished, without a 
 thought of sacrificing herself. She had unwittingly 
 set her own death-trap. 
 
 This present chapter of his book of life seemed to 
 be thrown in at random. It was parenthetic, ac- 
 cidental. It had no connection with any other part 
 of the story. Perhaps, even yet, something would 
 happen to prevent it being bound up for him for- 
 ever.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 267 
 
 What could happen? He was not yet at the point 
 where he could pray for death or disaster for his child, 
 but, some accident might meet He recalled the 
 vision of his young kinsman across the sea lying stone 
 dead in his own fields. Hearts of father and mother 
 had broken for him. Castlemere was a fine horse- 
 man; but, there was a strip of treacherous clay where 
 the road overhung the river between the Burgoyne 
 place and Bellaire. If the half-broken colt that the 
 young man habitually rode should take it into his 
 head to be restive, unmanagable at that spot, only 
 one thing could happen. For the moment, the tor- 
 tured father wished it most intensely. He spoke his 
 thought : 
 
 "Ah Cain, your blood stirs within me; but, if it is 
 done, my thought, not my hand, will do it. The 
 moral is in the wish, the intent; and my deeds upon 
 my head ! " 
 
 The door opened softly. A clerk came in, and 
 with an inquisitive stare laid a card on the desk. Fair- 
 fax picked it up, and, in his abstraction wondered, for 
 an instant if it was a mistake, and whose card should 
 have come instead. He read his own name: 
 
 Jasper Fairfax, 
 
 Washington, D. C. 
 
 He looked at it stolidly, saying mentally that he 
 had never had a card printed with that address. The 
 clerk waited, and when Fairfax laid the card down 
 and looked at him without seeing him, he took it 
 for a sign to go. As he left the room, Fairfax only
 
 268 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 half conscious that his thoughts had been interrupted, 
 turned again to the card. Where had it come from? 
 
 Then a clear low voice was saying: " Good 
 morning Colonel Fairfax." 
 
 He looked up, then rose from his chair. Was it 
 the ghost of his youth come to show him the point 
 where started the little rill that led to this sea of 
 trouble? 
 
 The eyes that were on a level with his were his 
 own. The face, boyish and beautiful had looked up 
 at him from the river on many a summer day; had 
 laughed back at him from his mirror and from 
 maidens' eyes. 
 
 He passed his hand across his forehead. He meant 
 to speak, but his misty thought was: "Why delude 
 myself further? I'm dreaming, or this nightmare is 
 becoming too much for me." 
 
 Then the clear voice was heard again : 
 
 " If you are busy I'll go away and call later, or, 
 the day after to-morrow ; any time you may appoint ;" 
 
 So the ghost would insist on an answer. 
 
 " No," Fairfax said, gazing steadily into the gray 
 eyes, " I've nothing particular in hand. State your 
 business." 
 
 " Perhaps you're not well? " as the Colonel 
 languidly indicated a chair and as languidly dropped 
 into his own. 
 
 " Hem! it's a compassionate ghost, but, not more 
 so, I reckon than I used to be;" this mentally. Aloud 
 he said : " Yes, I'm quite well, thank you. What can 
 I do for you?" 
 
 A frank, pleasant smile kindled in the eyes of the 
 young man, lighting up his whole face. Fairfax
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 269 
 
 noticed the dampness on his dark hair, and how it 
 lay in waves over his head and in rings about his fore- 
 head and neck. 
 
 " You can do me a great service, but, will you? 
 You have refused to do it at Mr. Carleton's solicit- 
 ation. I learn that he's out of town for the day. There 
 was a misunderstanding or delayed letters. He was 
 not here to introduce me. Mr. Cogswell advised me 
 to introduce myself. I fancy I'm not an entire stran- 
 ger to you." 
 
 " Your fancy misleads you. This is the first time 
 I ever saw you." 
 
 " Yes, that's true, but, you knew of me, and in the 
 nature of the case, you must naturally have expected 
 to see me sometime. In fact I'll wager you've 
 wondered many times why I didn't call upon you." 
 
 Fairfax held his breath. The smile still lingered 
 about the finely cut mouth, there was a daring gleam 
 in the long gray eyes of this bold boy. The Colonel 
 felt his pulses quickening as he gazed in fascination 
 at his visitor. The consciousness that here was a 
 part of himself; that this boy, speaking to him in 
 "the sublime audacity of youth" might nonchalently 
 raise his hand, and, instead of asking a favor say: 
 
 "You sir, are responsible for my being. You have 
 shirked the duties of your relationship a long time. 
 You have kept me out of my own. Now, sir, I de- 
 mand restitution;" this kept him silent. 
 
 He had often wondered if he would ever meet this 
 unknown son. He had told himself that if he did, it 
 would be the same as meeting any other human crea- 
 ture. Perhaps it might have been so if the resemb- 
 lance had not been so marked. Whenever he opened
 
 270 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 his lips to speak he had an absurd sensation as of 
 turning himself out of doors. 
 
 Leisurely he said : "And do you suppose your own 
 rhetoric will be more potent than Mr. Carleton's 
 trained faculties? Has he told you my reasons for 
 refusing to put my name to the instrument that will 
 pave the way for you to this English title and estate?" 
 
 " Yes, he told me. I had no reason to suppose 
 that I could induce you to do, only what is right in 
 the premises, excepting by binding myself by any 
 form of bond you may desire to claim no share in your 
 own possessions." 
 
 I do not ask anything of the kind. I want no 
 commerce with you in any way. When your mother 
 insisted on absolute divorce, I, through my lawyers, 
 Cogswell and Jerome, offered her anything she 
 might ask. There was no mention of an expected 
 child; so no provision made for one. After all these 
 years, neither you nor your mother have any least 
 claim upon me." 
 
 " You have not been misrepresented to me by any 
 persons concerned in the separation of yourself from 
 my mother. They are all truthful people. My 
 mother and I do not wish to have any claim upon you. 
 Probably by the terms of the divorce she has none; 
 but, I have. In that transaction I had no vote; now 
 I'm old enough for the ballot, and I'm going to say 
 my word on everything that comes my way. I also 
 have a claim upon this estate across the water. For 
 my mother's sake, to make her life pleasant, I want 
 it. For myself, I can make my way as well as any 
 boy that ever was born. For my mother, I do not
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 271 
 
 hesitate to say that I want money and plenty of it; 
 and I'm ready to make a big fight for it." 
 
 " Yes, that's right. I've no doubt you're a good 
 son ; but you may as well consider your fight with me 
 as quite over. You can move your forces whenever 
 you like." 
 
 " Colonel Fairfax, looking at you, I can't under- 
 stand why you do this. You have the advantage, 
 but, a man with your head and face oughtn't to do 
 a mean thing." 
 
 The fearless, positive tone was re-inforced by the 
 steady gaze of the clear eyes. 
 
 " So, you're a physiognomist? " 
 
 "Oh no, but," there was a short laugh; "I can see 
 that I resemble you, very much, and I couldn't 
 imagine myself doing a thing of this sort." 
 
 " No? At your age, and with your lack of experi- 
 ence it is useless to ask you to look at the matter 
 from my point of view." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose that makes some difference." 
 A pause, then, "Colonel Fairfax, if I could be assured 
 that it was the loss of my mother that warped you, I 
 could forgive you." 
 
 Fairfax started visibly, lifted his head and stared 
 at the young man as if he had struck him. 
 
 " Don't tax your benevolence. I have given good 
 and sufficient reasons for my attitude; reasons that 
 were enough for Carleton, and must suffice for you." 
 
 Still he did not go, but sat studying his father as if 
 he would read him through and through. After a 
 few moments of silence, he spoke, laughing as he did 
 so: 
 
 "I wonder if I ever could do a thing like this.
 
 272 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Would you mind telling me what it was that sent you 
 to the devil?" 
 
 If Colonel Fairfax had been put upon his oath he 
 would have stated that he was never more surprised 
 in his life. He laughed in spite of himself. Such a 
 new sensation as he was experiencing! He hardly 
 knew how to class it. This boy was daring to the 
 verge of insult, and yet, each time he spoke his father 
 felt a species of pride in his manner of defying him. 
 Not one other person in the world had ever dared to 
 speak to him in this manner, to even look at him as 
 did this slender copy of himself. 
 
 " Well sir, you certainly do not mean to be mis- 
 understood. I begin to see myself in a new light; 
 and I confess I'm not flattered." 
 
 " It frequently happens that truth is not flattering. 
 I don't need to wait for gray hair and spectacles to 
 know that. You say that I do not mean to be mis- 
 understood. I assure you that I do not. I have one 
 thing more to say before going. You can consider 
 it at your leisure until I see you again, not to-morrow 
 of course," and he continued in a softer tone as he 
 saw how his host shrank as if in pain, "but sometime 
 soon. You can see for yourself the line of events 
 that have led up to this day. and to this first meet- 
 ing between us. The same cause that separated you 
 from my mother, rendered you ineligible as heir to 
 this English fortune. By these causes, I, though en- 
 tirely passive and blameless, am left a pauper, in a 
 degree when, by natural right I should be at least 
 comfortably provided for. I don't ask now, though 
 I might and get it, a share of Fairfax Farms, or any- 
 thing else that you possess. I tell you honestly that
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 273 
 
 I don't want it. I will put my name in a thousand 
 places saying the same thing if you will simply put 
 your name where it will be of service to me in the 
 other matter." 
 
 Colonel Fairfax smiled indulgently. 
 
 "And, if I do not do this, my young dictator? " 
 
 The young man arose and swung his hands behind 
 him. His father watched every motion. "How well 
 he carries himself," was his mental comment. His 
 manner was calm, his voice was steady, there was a 
 half smile in his eyes. He stood looking at his father 
 as he had looked when he first came in. 
 
 "Ask yourself, sir what you would do; what any 
 man who respects himself would do. Right is on 
 my side of the question. I would like to be friendly 
 with you. There is no reason why we should not be 
 friends. If you will it otherwise, so be it; I'll try to be 
 as good an enemy as you ever had in all your days. 
 I am as good a Fairfax as you are, and there was 
 never a beggar amongst us. I will have my own to 
 the ultimate copper." 
 
 Colonel Fairfax was standing too. He wondered 
 at the complacent glow that swept over him as the 
 boy declared himself a Fairfax. As his visitor 
 moved towards the door, he said: 
 
 " You don't know, I'm sure, how these heroics be- 
 come you. Really, if you go to extremes I would ad- 
 vise you to plead the cause for yourself." 
 
 " The cause will require no special, at least no 
 expert pleading. If it should, I know where to find 
 it. The best legal talent in Washington is at my 
 service, for my mother's sake." 
 
 A wave of color swept over the face of Colonel
 
 274 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Fairfax. He was as surprised at the anger he felt at 
 the thought of some other man loving his former wife 
 as his son was to see the evidence of that jealousy. 
 The young man smiled; he came near laughing out- 
 right, and Colonel Fairfax knew that he had betrayed 
 himself. 
 
 When he was alone he walked the floor with quick 
 steps. He was lost in thought, but, his musings 
 were pleasant. " He's a fine fellow ! " so he summed 
 up mentally. "As handsome a boy as I ever saw, 
 and, I wonder if he'd be afraid to meet the devil." 
 He laughed silently. " How I should like to see him 
 and his mother together! I can't imagine Adelaide 
 as mother of the strapping fellow. They must have 
 been beautiful together when he was a little fellow. 
 And oh to have seen him as a baby! To have seen 
 her ministering to him in the sweetest, holiest office 
 of motherhood! " 
 
 He sat down by the open window. It still rained, 
 but the sun was shining, and his face lightened with 
 the sky. "I was mistaken," he said softly, "Adelaide 
 was in earnest. She did care for me. She sacrificed 
 as much, probably more for her principles than I did 
 for mine. Galatea never returned to her pedestal, 
 was never again frozen to marble. She remained a 
 woman. Her thoughts, through lonely, patient 
 hours, stamped her son with the likeness of his 
 father. But, why did she not tell me? That is un- 
 forgivable. Such a difference it would have made if 
 I had known." 
 
 That evening Colonel Fairfax drew Zoe out on the 
 veranda, and walking back and forth around the three 
 sides of the house, he told her of her half-brother.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. .775 
 
 She had heard of it, she said a few days before, and 
 had then asked her mother about it. She had evaded 
 answering, and upon being pressed, impatiently told 
 Zoe, that the subject was very unpleasant; that she 
 must ask Sheba, or Uncle Westlake, or her father. 
 She had gone to Sheba. She knew of the marriagCj 
 but nothing of the boy. So now she had the whole 
 story and she saw her father in a new sad light. When 
 it was all finished she asked: "Papa how does he 
 look?" 
 
 " Very much like myself; as tall, with the same 
 eyes and hair, and I fancy much of my manner." 
 
 "Oh papa, how I'd like to see him! and how I wish 
 we could have had him living with us here." 
 
 " Yes," and he thought what a difference it might 
 have made with this flower-like girl if she had had 
 such a sturdy clear sighted brother as a constant com- 
 panion. Then he took up his burden again to lay it 
 down, when?
 
 276 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 It was a great and pleasant sensation in Bellaire. 
 This tall, lithe young Fairfax walked the streets an 
 exact copy of his father twenty-five years ago. He 
 was at once recognized by men and women of his 
 father's age and older, and the hospitable home of 
 Senator Cogswell was over-flowing with callers. 
 
 The feeling against Adelaide Francis had been bit- 
 ter and unrelenting, but, what had this handsome, 
 gracious boy to do with his mother's conduct? The 
 charm of youth and his father's face and manner were 
 all potent. The mother of a son like that could be 
 forgiven much. Gray heads nodded wisely. Had 
 not this unknown young Fairfax made his debut in 
 the nick of time? While the father was vexed and 
 grieved over the wilfulness of the daughter would not 
 the son stand the better chance of recognition? 
 
 So thought ex-consul Burgoyne, and so he said to 
 Countess Castlemere on the evening of the day when 
 all Bellaire knew that young Jasper Fairfax had called 
 upon his father, and h- 1 left his private office looking 
 satisfied, after a long conference. 
 
 John Burgoyne and his cousin, like Colonel Fair- 
 fax and his daughter, walked the veranda. They 
 talked long and earnestly, Burgoyne at last half 
 angrily. 
 
 " I tell you, it will ruin everything. Why can't you
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 277 
 
 be satisfied? After the wedding is over, let the young 
 folks go as arranged, and you keep silence and follow, 
 them." 
 
 " I wouldn't forego the satisfaction I'll have in 
 letting Jasper Fairfax know who I am, not for twice 
 the price of the farms." 
 
 " Well you'll probably forfeit half that. The girl 
 will either be disinherited or persuaded to cut away 
 from Guido at once." 
 
 " Neither one will happen. The girl is bewitched. 
 She'll follow Guido to the end of the world. As for 
 being disinherited, her father only lives for her " 
 
 " But now this boy has come to the front ; " 
 
 " I know Jasper Fairfax. He worshiped Adelaide 
 Francis, long before he was free to marry her. He 
 is as unrelenting as a cobra robbed of its mate. Ade- 
 laide's son will never get a sou from his father. My 
 doll-baby daughter-in-law will have it all, now re- 
 member that." 
 
 " Well, have your way, but mind what I tell you ; 
 to-morrow by this time your Castles in Spain built 
 from the proceeds of Fairfax Farms, will be tumbled 
 about your ears." 
 
 When old friends came seeking Adelaide Fairfax 
 she received them graciously, but, as she would be in 
 Bellaire for so short a time, and, under such peculiar 
 circumstances, she begged them to allow her to re- 
 main in seclusion. 
 
 When Jasper returned from his interview with his 
 father, he at once sought his mother, and told her of 
 his failure to win his point. Then, remembering the 
 flush that dyed the colonel's face, he said:
 
 278 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " But, I'll win yet. You'll see me Lord Treslyn 
 very soon, my lady mother." 
 
 " I hope so, dear, but Colonel Fairfax is very firm. 
 You may know how firm by this situation, and by the 
 whole story of your life." 
 
 ' I know it, but, I'm firm too. I told him I found 
 myself quite as good a Fairfax as himself. If I'm not 
 why was his pattern wasted on me? " 
 
 His mother laughed; " Yes, you are as like him as 
 one person can be like another." 
 
 She was singularly beautiful. Tall, slender, even 
 girlishly slim, yet with a rounded figure every move- 
 ment of which was graceful and charming. Her 
 heavy golden chestnut hair showed here and there a 
 thread of silver, but her deep pansy eye were full and 
 dewy, and her complexion was like transparent ivory 
 with a rose glow beneath. Her's was the regal beauty 
 that swayed men's hearts yet held them in check. 
 Men worshiped her standing afar, and, while wor- 
 shipping her, keeping the memory of her face shrined 
 in their hearts as something sacredly precious, they 
 married plainer, commoner women. She was a 
 woman before whom the average man wished he 
 could forget or blot out all his sins. He felt in- 
 stinctively that her's was a great soul dwelling apart 
 in its own pure atmosphere. 
 
 Vaguely her son had the same feeling as, sitting 
 by her now, talking to her of his father, occasionally 
 breaking out mirthfull as he told how he had been 
 cut short on all points, but not abashed. When he 
 had told all he added : 
 
 " But mama, he's a magnificent man. It's no 
 wonder that Clay Jerome raves about him."
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 279 
 
 The mother smiled, shaking her head, repeating: 
 
 " You are as like he was at your age, as it is pos- 
 sible for one person to be like another. Don't be 
 vain." 
 
 " Yes, I'm not a chip from the old block, I'm an- 
 other block of the same tree. No wonder Grand- 
 dad says so sorrowfully: 'You're all Fairfax; every 
 inch of you.' Ha! Ha! " 
 
 "Poor father! he's too old to outgrow the grief 
 and disappointment he felt that Colonel Fairfax 
 should wear the gray; " 
 
 " While Grand-dad wore his black broad-cloth till 
 it was shabby and shiney, and vapored about loyalty 
 and the Union, and did nothing else. I must con- 
 fess, mama, now, since seeing the colonel, knowing 
 only so much of him as I've been told, and that most- 
 ly from Grand-dad's point of vision and opinion, and 
 what I found out to-day by bearding him in his den, 
 I don't see how you could have decided against him." 
 
 "Oh my son! Is principle nothing?" 
 
 " Principle is the heart of everything good, but, 
 politics is a humbug. It was simply a difference of 
 opinion. Colonel Fairfax and plenty of other clear- 
 headed men believed themselves right, just as much 
 as ever Washington did." 
 
 " But dear, they were wrong. Can't you see how 
 wrong they were? " 
 
 " The wrong was not of their making ; and I tell 
 you it must have been deucedly tough to be thrashed 
 for all the sins of all their fore-fathers and have their 
 pockets picked besides." 
 
 "Yes, but wrong must be atoned for some time,
 
 280 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 It may seem to be forgotten, but it isn't. Each sin 
 bears its own punishment within itself." 
 
 " Yes, you've shown me that in so many instances 
 I haven't the least speck of comfort in the most 
 juvenile kind of a lark. I always think, now mama 
 will look right through me and read it all, as soon as 
 I get home. Then look out for Nemesis." 
 
 How happily her laugh rang out as she leaned over 
 and kissed the tanned cheek. 
 
 " But," he continued, " I tell you mama, you were 
 a deal more of a patriot and a philosopher than you 
 were a woman, or you'd have followed Colonel Fair- 
 fax through Hades and all." 
 
 " Jasper! " and the slender hands were lifted in ex- 
 postulation; but the boy laughed in her face, caught 
 the hands and held them firmly, saying, while a reck- 
 less light danced in his eyes: 
 
 "One of these days when you have a daughter-in- 
 law, she'll stand by Fairfax, right or wrong. I'll have 
 no star-spangled goddess of Liberty for my Lady 
 Treslyn." 
 
 " Take care," and she held one of his brown hands 
 in both her own, " Remember whom you are dealing 
 with for permission to grasp this title, even for your- 
 self. Your father is very stubborn." 
 
 " So is my father's son very stubborn ; and, if your 
 son's father doesn't listen to reason he'll find himself 
 thrashed out, slick and clean. I'll do the job much 
 more thoroughly than the Federal troops did it." 
 
 " Dear, I wouldn't for the world go into litigation." 
 
 " No, you'd go into the poor-house for principle. 
 We Fairfaxs don't do that way. I'll fight for my
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 281 
 
 English millions as hard as Dad fought for his 
 darkies." 
 
 " But it would be unbearable to go into court and 
 have the whole story talked about, and even publish- 
 ed." 
 
 " It'll never reach that point. I don't believe Col- 
 onel Fairfax would like litigation any better than you 
 would. He'll compromise rather than allow me to 
 drag the whole business into court, especially when 
 he knows of the legal talent that I can muster;" and 
 Jasper looked at his mother quizzically. " I gave him 
 a small hint that way." 
 
 "And then what?" and Mrs. Fairfax laughed 
 softly. 
 
 Jasper smiled, remembering: "I think it moved 
 him slightly. He said nothing, did nothing that 
 could be told, but, I had a flitting glimpse of the true 
 inwardness of my gentleman father's soul. It's all 
 right, and I like him immensely! I must go and 
 brush up for dinner. Oh, I say, mama, isn't Fanny 
 Jerome a darling? Don't you think she begins to 
 look like Lady Treslyn? " 
 
 "Oh you silly boy! Go brush your hair and put 
 on a clean collar! " and she playfully put him out of 
 the room. 
 
 Down the hall she heard him singing at his toilet 
 snatches of a popular song as if he only remembered 
 a line here and there. It was a song of blighted af- 
 fections with the refrain : 
 
 " I knew that he had not forgotten 
 By the flush that swept over his face."
 
 282 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 There was a bar or two in a strong soprano, then 
 the voice soared away in a tenor as clear as a bugle 
 call; then a musical whistle carried the air with many 
 trills and quavers over a verse, when the voice softly 
 repeated : 
 
 " I knew that he had not forgotten 
 By the flush that swept over his face."
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 283 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 " Happy is de bride dat de sun shines on, Mas' 
 Jaspa. See de rain's all done gone f'om de bride's 
 day." 
 
 Sheba was hobbling through the halls very early 
 that morning. She was well nigh helpless with 
 rheumatism and, though long ago she had been forc- 
 ed to delegate her powers, she was still the reigning 
 housekeeper. Now that the great event of the wed- 
 ding of the sole daughter of the house was on hand 
 she was up and stirring to see that everything was in 
 order. She met her master near the door of her own 
 room, and, knowing that he was troubled almost be- 
 yond endurance, she would offer one little crumb of 
 comfort. She could not let him pass without the 
 kindly hopeful word. 
 
 He sighed and his sigh was painful. His bosom 
 was sore with the heaviness within. 
 
 "Oh, I hope, Mammy, that our little girl will be hap- 
 py, but, I'm afraid, I'm sorely afraid." 
 
 " Well Mas' Jaspa, yo done said all yo' kin say 
 Yo des got to leab it wid de good Lawd. He 
 neba makes no mistakes like weuns does. Now 
 honey, hyah comes dat gal wid my coffee. Come in 
 an' set wid me; an' yo' Jen, g'long back tote a cup 
 hyah fo' Mas' aspa 
 
 His old nurse could have wept to see the pallid 
 pinched look in her master's face, the white that had 
 come into his hair within the last few weeks. She
 
 284 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 did not know that all night long he had wandered up 
 and down the place. She did not know that he had 
 stolen into his daughter's sleeping room, and there 
 gazing down upon her fair face had felt himself pos- 
 sessed of the soul of Virginius. She could not have 
 realized how, in his agony he was not horrified at the 
 thought, nor that he was only deterred by the fear that 
 his hand might not be sure, that the dear eyes might 
 open, and, misunderstanding the kindness of his act- 
 ion should haunt him forever with their reproach. 
 
 All night long he had striven for the clue to this 
 thing that had come upon him. Why had he been 
 rendered powerless before this foreign stripling? 
 When he blamed Guido's mother for wielding her in- 
 sinuating influence and fascinating Zoe, then he 
 blamed himself also for not knowing her better, for not 
 seeing more of her; for not more openly measuring 
 her strength with his own. And yet, had not the last 
 five months, ever since the Castlemere's came, been 
 filled with a continuous series of efforts against them? 
 The failing health of his wife had been the great de- 
 terrent. Her weakness held all his strength, all his 
 will, all his conjugal and paternal authority at bay. 
 
 One thing he might have done to some purpose, 
 but, when this one thing had seemed to evade him, he 
 was well satisfied to let it alone: That was, to have 
 forced the Countess Castlemere to accept his society. 
 She had been within his own doors, many times, but 
 with the exception of two or three of these times, al- 
 ways in his absence. When he knew that on social 
 occasions she had avoided him, he experienced a sen- 
 sation of relief. Now he thought that possibly, after 
 the first meeting he had not been cordial, and a
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 285 
 
 woman accustomed as she was to unbounded adul- 
 ation could not brook that one man she met should 
 fail in homage. Perhaps her reserve, took color from 
 his own, and through pique ran into extremest avoid- 
 ance. 
 
 Zoe's mind had for years been filled with stories of 
 Guido and his mother. Their coming, their 
 striking appearance, their apparent wealth, their man- 
 ners, and more than all their adroit flatteries had 
 been like a fulfillment of all her girlish dreams. There 
 was nothing in any of the romances she had ever read 
 more charming than this beautiful boy and his wor- 
 ship of herself. He was the fairy prince who would 
 crown her queen of his heart, so, what was all the 
 world beside? 
 
 Now, very soon, Colonel Fairfax thought, it would 
 all be over. He could see nothing beyond this day, 
 beyond the question, "Who gives this woman to this 
 man? " 
 
 Still, when thought and life grew most grievous, 
 with a strange insistence, breaking into his heavy 
 wretchedness and scattering the clouds for an instant, 
 ever since the close of that interview of the day be- 
 fore, there came the fine, frank face of the boy who 
 bore his own name. In spite of himself when this 
 young face broke upon his thoughts his burden was 
 lifted. When his heart was heaviest, when he felt 
 that he must raise his voice and shout his sorrow to 
 the world, then close to his own came the face with 
 full clear gray eyes drowned in laughing light; a non- 
 chalent smile curved the handsome mouth, and a 
 fearless, daring speech mocked at grief and pain. 
 
 Until this morning Colonel Fairfax had hoped for
 
 286 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 a respite. Something would intervene to save his 
 child. But, the hurried preparations were all com- 
 plete, the house was full of guests. Doctor Ballan- 
 tyne, bent and old had come to unite the child whose 
 grandfather had been his friend to, he knew not 
 whom. 
 
 Fairfax had said to him, " Make the ceremony as 
 short as may be. I cannot bear much more." 
 
 The old man, knowing well the strong nature of 
 his friend, knowing the reason of his opposition to this 
 marriage, knowing all that had been brought to bear 
 to accomplish it, felt that Jasper Fairfax was suffer- 
 ing with all the strength of mind, soul and body, so 
 must be nigh unto death. 
 
 And now, as in a dream, with a heavy, whirring 
 sound in his brain, with feet of lead and hands of ice, 
 he was leading a white-robed clinging figure down 
 the stairs, across the hall, into the long drawing room 
 where the dark bridegroom awaited her. Blindly he 
 responded to the one question, placing the hand of 
 his child in that of the priest. In that act he felt that 
 he relinquished his daughter, but, he cast down his 
 eyes. He would not look upon the transfer of that 
 helpless little hand from the protection of the church 
 to that of the bridegroom. 
 
 The gruesome thought came that this was more 
 than he might have felt had he stood beside the pit 
 and listened to the earth being shoveled in to hide the 
 dear one lying there. That, beside this would have 
 been a tender grief, a sacred memory. 
 
 He heard the remainder of the ceremony as if it 
 came from far away. It was nearly over. All was 
 black before him. Would he faint? Close to his
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 287 
 
 own came that boyish face again. Again that fear- 
 less scrutiny, that measuring of his soul as it showed 
 itself, with what it should have been. Again that 
 laughing impertinence; "I wonder what ever hap- 
 pened to you that sent you to the devil." 
 
 Ah that was the question that puzzled him as well 
 as the boy. If he could only ravel this web that en- 
 tangled him, if he could only discover the beginning 
 of this most hateful day, he thought he could bear it 
 in better spirit. 
 
 There was but little time to spare after the cere- 
 mony was over. The master of the house had so 
 willed it. He would bear what was forced upon him, 
 what was essential to fill the demands of the law and 
 the church, but nothing more. He would tolerate 
 no avoidable festivity. 
 
 When the bride, attired for her going away clung 
 to her father at the head of the stairs and besought 
 him to go down with her, to put her in the carriage, 
 to hold her hand in his till the very last, he whispered 
 "No, darling: it is the last here and now. Good- 
 bye daughter. Whatever happens, don't forget that 
 I love you more than anything else in the world. If 
 you are happy, assure me of it. If you are disap- 
 pointed, if, for any reason under the sun you want to 
 come back to me, tell me so. You'll always keep a 
 place in your heart for me, darling? " 
 
 "Oh yes, papa! " 
 
 He kissed her hair, her eyes, her hands, he held 
 her close and stared at her dumbly, and when Fanny 
 Jerome, sobbing pitiously, and vowing in her heart 
 she'd never leave her own father, never, said, "Oh
 
 288 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Colonel, she must go or they'll miss the train," he 
 released her. 
 
 He remained shut within his own sleeping room 
 until the roll of wheels on the drive had ceased and 
 the house was quiet save for the usual familiar sounds. 
 Then, rousing himself, he thought he would call 
 Prax, order Flash to be brought round, and he would 
 gallop away to some nook by the river and pass the 
 remainder of the day in solitude. But, for some un- 
 accountable reason, there came no answer to the re- 
 peated ringing of the bell. Possibly the wire was 
 disabled. There was nothing to be done but to go 
 down. Not a servant was to be seen in the halls, 
 but when he reached the drawing-room floor, there, 
 in a cozy group sat the Burgoynes, husband and wife, 
 Countess Castlemere and Mrs. Fairfax. 
 
 The Burgoyne carriage stood where it had been 
 placed on their arrival. The coming in of the master 
 of the house was a disturbing influence to the group. 
 Each member of it moved uneasily as people do when 
 they suspect they are intruding. 
 
 Fairfax allowed no awkward silence. He introduced 
 his own affairs by asking his wife if she had the 
 least idea where Prax had bestowed himself, and what 
 ailed that one particular bell. 
 
 She knew nothing of Prax but she knew that the 
 bell had been crippled a day or two ago, and there had 
 been no time to have it repaired. 
 
 Then Mrs. Burgoyne said they must go, and the 
 party arose. Countess Castlemere said: 
 
 " Cousin John, as I go away to-morrow so as to 
 join the children on the steamer next day, this will be 
 my last opportunity of seeing, once more, that de-
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 289 
 
 lightful ruin at the other end of the beeches. I'll 
 walk down, and you can pick me up as you come that 
 way." 
 
 " But why not ride down, and go in at the front 
 gate, and indulge your fancy? " 
 
 " The view is not so good that way. You come 
 upon it too suddenly. I must have my way. You 
 take your own time for driving down." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax made a feint of saying she too would 
 walk to the ruin, but, she sighed and leaned on the 
 back of a chair looking unutterably fragile and 
 weary. She turned toward her husband. This was 
 such a little thing, and yet she would not ask him to 
 doit. 
 
 His heart smote him. He had not been kind to 
 her lately. Her eyes were heavy, perhaps with weari- 
 ness, perhaps with pain, perhaps with secret tears. 
 
 He could do no less than offer to walk with the 
 Countess to t his interesting spot on his own premises. 
 He thought she was already assuming airs of owner- 
 ship and trying to make them unobtrusive. She said 
 how delighted she would be, and yet, she did not wish 
 to be troublesome in the gratification of a whim. 
 
 Colonel Fairfax coldly, and ceremoniously assured 
 her that it would be a pleasure to walk with her. Bur- 
 goyne, as was frequently his fancy had driven his 
 team himself. Fairfax had many times remarked: 
 "That's the nigger of it." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax sank into a chair as her husband and 
 the countess started down the walk, and Burgoyne 
 and his wife still lingered. 
 
 "Shall we not go?" Mrs. Burgoyne asked, and
 
 290 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax thought she was curiously nervous and 
 flurried in her manner. 
 
 " No hurry," Burgoyne answered. " It's quite a 
 walk to the ruin, and Sally's a great talker. She'll 
 have to hear the whole story over again." 
 
 While they waited and the horses stamped and im- 
 patiently threw up their heads and champed their 
 bits, Colonel Fairfax was dragging out the last hour 
 of his endurance of the society of the Countess Castle- 
 mere. 
 
 As the Burgoynes were about to go, Westlake re- 
 turqed from seeing the bridal party off. His sister 
 exclaimed on seeing him: 
 
 "Oh George! I'm so glad you've come back. I 
 was afraid you meant to stay in your office for the 
 remainder of the day." 
 
 " In these regimentals? " glancing at his broad- 
 cloth. " I ought to have disappeared as did the 
 bride and groom, put on my business suit, and then 
 I could have utilized the afternoon." 
 
 " I'm glad you didn't. I don't want to be alone." 
 
 " Better invite the colonel to stay at home for a 
 quiet visit. Where is he?" 
 
 " Gone to the ruin with the countess." 
 
 Westlake could see that his sister was immeasur- 
 ably sad in spite of her gratified ambition in the fact 
 that Zoe had married a title. Now that the daughter 
 was gone, the husband and wife would realize how 
 far apart they had drifted. In as much as he was 
 capable of pity, Westlake was sorry for both. With 
 all his soul he congratulated himself that if he only 
 possessed single blessedness, he was totally exempt 
 from the entanglement of multiplied misery.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 291 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 These two who walked amongst the shadows cast 
 by the interlacing boughs of the beeches had nothing 
 to say about the event of the morning. The new 
 leaves were odorous in the sunshine and they rustled 
 like little waves in the warm air. 
 
 The conversation of Colonel Fairfax with his hand- 
 some guest, though without embarrassing pause, yet 
 had no element of geniality in it. 
 
 The countess said she hoped sometime to make her 
 home in her father's land; that she would like a fine 
 old place like this for her own. Fairfax registered 
 a mental vow that she should never live on the farms 
 until his head was cold. But, she continued, she 
 feared her son would never become Americanized. 
 Fairfax did not say, as, in the role of a pleased 
 father-in-law he would have said, that he hoped his 
 son-in-law might be induced to live in America, even 
 in Kentucky, even in his own house. He wondered 
 if the countess was expecting him to say something 
 of this kind. 
 
 Instead, he said he thought it very strange that she 
 felt any desire to return to the newness of America 
 after so many years, certainly half the years of her 
 life spent in the historic cities of the Old World. 
 
 "Ah! " and the Countess sighed as she leaned her 
 folded arms on the window seat of what had been the 
 drawing room. "There has never been anything in
 
 292 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 any of the cities where we lived that could take the 
 place of the old house, the house where I was where 
 I lived in my girlhood. I was born on the other 
 side." 
 
 "Ah indeed! I supposed you were American born." 
 
 " No, my parents were American, but were in 
 Europe for a long visit. I was brought home before 
 I was old enough to remember it. Seems to me I 
 would like to rebuild a place like this, with all its 
 memories and its romance and ghosts stories, and 
 make a home of it." 
 
 " This will never be rebuilt with my sanction. The 
 tragedy connected with the place was of such a ter- 
 rible nature, the ruin must stand, a monument to the 
 sins of the two races." 
 
 " Did you ever institute systematic inquiries? or 
 employ detectives in the case? " 
 
 " No, I never could see the necessity of that; and 
 the war coming on almost immediately there were 
 other things to think of." 
 
 " Seems to me it's strange you never had the least 
 trace of 'the girl known as Salome.' " 
 
 Fairfax started and turned upon the countess. The 
 very words of his aunt's will. The countess was ab- 
 sently gazing before her. 
 
 " But haven't you been told? my men took the 
 charred remains of the girl and Victor, Dr. Red- 
 field's valet out of the ruins." 
 
 "Oh yes, I've been told, and I've been to the 
 cemetery and seen the graves of the two." 
 
 She paused, and Fairfax watching her face saw 
 that she was smiling. What a strange, half barbaric 
 creature was this with her voluptuous beauty, her
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 293 
 
 profusion of ornament and her foreign accent. After 
 a little she spoke. 
 
 " But I've been told that the girl possessed a 
 quantity of valuable jewels. What could have be- 
 come of them?" 
 
 " We never knew. My own theory was that they 
 had been hidden in some easily accessible place, and 
 the accident to the powder in the strong room pre- 
 vented their removal. According to that theory, the 
 valuables may be discovered, some time, by chance." 
 
 " Colonel Fairfax ; it seems to me that you were 
 easily satisfied. Were you sure that the skeletons 
 found there in that corner were really the remains of 
 Victor and the girl known as Salome?" 
 
 Again that sentence. 
 
 " Why, whose else could they have been? None of 
 the slaves were missing, and Dr. Redfield was 
 not in the habit of secreting cadavers like a student." 
 
 " No, but, doctors very frequently keep many 
 ghastly souvenirs of their student days, and " 
 
 Fairfax started as if electrified. The countess had 
 entirely dropped her foreign accent. She stood 
 laughing in his face. She raised her right hand, the 
 lace fell away from her arm and there gleamed a 
 bracelet that he had had made for Salome. 
 
 She touched it, a spring clicked softly, a golden lid 
 lifted, his own face, painted on ivory lay within. 
 
 He seized her arm savagely. 
 
 "What trick is this? How did you come by that 
 bracelet? " 
 
 " You gave it me, master, when you were my 
 lover, almost my husband;" and a mocking laugh
 
 294 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 rang out while she winced with the pain of his grasp 
 on her arm. 
 
 Like the shifting figures of a kaleidoscope he saw 
 it all. He remembered what he had not thought of 
 in the years counted as the half of a long life, the two 
 skeletons that Doctor Redfield had been forced to 
 hide out of sight "making believe" they had been 
 sent away and buried because of the superstitious 
 fears of the slaves. Often when he and Salome were 
 children they had followed the doctor to the under- 
 ground part of the house, and trembling in their de- 
 lightful horror they had insisted upon being shown 
 the two ghastly things in their secret place near the 
 strong room. They were told that one was a man, 
 the other a woman, and Salome's father actually used 
 them, to illustrate a few private lessons in physiology 
 that he gave the children. Strange, Fairfax thought) 
 now, that he had so entirely forgotten them, and as 
 he loosed his hold on Salome's arm, he laughed. 
 
 " Well," he said, even now, I feel relieved that you 
 did not perish in the fire, though this discovery con- 
 firms my first impression of the mixed origin of your 
 son, if he is your son? " 
 
 "Oh he's my son," and she laughed and clasped 
 her hands. "This day finishes more than my most 
 extravagant dreams dared to bid me hope on that 
 other day when you made me your generous offer 
 here in this room, instead of marriage. Then, I 
 vowed, in some way to avenge myself. How, I did 
 not know. Then I could think of nothing but burn- 
 ing your houses or killing you. I would have killed 
 you, but I wanted you to suffer. If we had thought 
 of it in time and divided the powder we'd have made
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 295 
 
 another bonfire of the other house while all the 
 slaves were gathered about this one. But, it is better 
 as it is. Yonder substantial mansion will be the home 
 of my Guido after you and I are gone and the frail 
 little Zoe too has followed the way that Marcia speeds 
 so rapidly." 
 
 Fairfax stared at her in silence. She spoke now in 
 the low, sweet voice he had known long ago. She 
 gazed all about her as if her eyes had hungered for 
 a glimpse of her home; and as if she could not fully 
 enjoy it while she disguised her voice and her speech. 
 While he listened he felt his brain refreshed, his 
 burden lifted. The puzzle that had vexed his soul 
 was explained, the mists were rolling away. He had 
 found the thread that led him into this maze, a shame- 
 ful, scarlet one, but there was another within his grasp, 
 a silken and white one that would most surely lead 
 him out of it. 
 
 " So," he said as Salome paused, "you married al- 
 most immediately after leaving this place?" 
 
 " Married! Who said I was married? " 
 
 He gazed at her in silence as she stood laughing. 
 
 " Why did you suppose I had been married? " 
 
 " I most naturally supposed that you were protect- 
 ed by the law in your motherhood." 
 
 " Why should I care for the law? Who of my 
 relations was ever married before '63? " 
 
 " How do you come by your title? " 
 
 " How innocent and honest! " and she laughed im- 
 moderately. " What right had I to any name? What 
 might I not call myself? " 
 
 "And, your son, of course has no name? " 
 
 " No more than has your Prax or Tim, or any of
 
 296 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 them. Oh dear, oh dear, how scared Tim was when 
 he saw Victor and me in the graveyard! John had 
 written me how we had been given Christian burial, 
 and I could'nt wait until I could go by day-light to 
 see the graves. I had more curiosity to see them than 
 I had for you and Marcia. How queer that you and 
 she should have married! " 
 
 " Does your son know your history, and his own?" 
 
 " Certainly he does. I've never deceived him for 
 a minute since he's been old enough to understand." 
 
 " What do you call yourselves on the other side? " 
 
 " The same as we call ourselves here. Of course 
 the Simon-Pure aristocracy know we are spurious, 
 but, we have to be somebody. Old Luke Bedell pro- 
 vided handsomely both for me and the boy, but, he 
 was like you; he didn't care to marry me." 
 
 "Old Luke Bedell, of Washington, the disreput- 
 able politician, the trickster at gambling, the rake? 
 Is he the father of your illegitimate son? " 
 
 She lifted her right hand as if being sworn but an- 
 swered nothing but a shout of laughter. 
 
 "And that boy is the husband of my daughter! " 
 
 " That winds up the statement of the case most 
 satisfactorily," and she pressed her handkerchief to 
 her eyes. 
 
 " Was this way of life that you chose deliberately 
 so much better than what I offered you, to be ac- 
 cepted at your pleasure? " 
 
 " In that time there was neither better nor worse 
 in anything. There was no good anywhere in all the 
 world. I did evil for the purely malicious joy it gave 
 me. I delighted in the degradation of myself be- 
 cause I hoped ypu would know of it, and break your
 
 Jasper Fairfax. , 297 
 
 heart over it. I never dreamed of you being misled 
 by the bones of those unknown paupers who had been 
 the jest of a herd of lawless students before I was 
 born." 
 
 There was a quaver in her voice for the first time, 
 and she shot a quick angry glance at her host. 
 
 Fairfax laughed softly. A few hours ago he did 
 not believe he would ever laugh again. Now, worse 
 than he ever dreamed had befallen Zoe. The reality 
 was so deeply base, so filthily fraudulent, the way out 
 of it for her was plain. 
 
 " So we were both mistaken," he said. "I would 
 rather have my mistake than yours. I am glad to 
 know the truth. Knowing, I can go ahead with con- 
 fidence. But, why do you deliberately run your head 
 into this noose? Why have you told me all this? " 
 
 " What would I care to have accomplished all that 
 I have if I left you to suppose Zoe had married a 
 legitimately begotten man, and a title, no matter how 
 much you might dislike my handsome Guido. I 
 wanted you to know who will be master of Fairfax 
 Farms. John opposed me; he wanted me to go in 
 silence but, I couldn't bear to." 
 
 She leaned against the stone-wall and opened her 
 lace parasol with its amber lining. It cast a glow 
 over her face and her white hair. Fairfax very plain- 
 ly saw the young Salome in this older, larger woman. 
 
 " So? " interrogatively smiling, "Who is John? 
 Where did he live? Is he really your cousin? " 
 
 " Yes, he's my cousin. He's Victor's son. They 
 belonged to the Burgoynes of New Orleans. 
 Jocasta, my mother was Victor's sister, you remem- 
 ber. John had a chance to fill his pockets from the
 
 298 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 Burgoyne safe before taking leave of them." She 
 was again laughing. 
 
 "Thievery, incendiarism, bastardy;" Fairfax said 
 quietly. "A fine alliance truly for my dainty daugh- 
 ter. Does Mrs. Burgoyne know of John's origin? " 
 
 " Yes. Her people were reformers. They lectured 
 on the equality of the races. When she practiced 
 what they preached they disowned and disinherited 
 her. Now, she lives in constant fear of being found 
 out the wife of a nameless ex-slave." 
 
 " I think you'd better go. They are waiting for 
 you at the gate." 
 
 " You're not raging as I expected to see you. You 
 don't care for Marcia's child? " 
 
 " Why should I rage? I've been groping in the 
 dark ever since you came. I thank you for en- 
 lightening me. You shall see how much I care for 
 Marcia's child. Of one thing be certain: Luke Be- 
 dell's son, and yours will never be master of Fairfax 
 Farms." 
 
 " How will you prevent it? " 
 
 " You will probably learn before you leave Bel- 
 laire. You have reckoned in this matter without 
 the son of your host." 
 
 "Adelaide's son! After the way she discarded 
 you!" 
 
 "A bitter dose I grant you; but, we're all white 
 folks, and Adelaide was my wife." 
 
 They had reached the gate. Burgoyne called 
 pleasantly, though there was a quaver in his voice: 
 
 " Did you have a pleasant walk and talk? " 
 
 Salome was gazing on the ground. Was it pos- 
 sible that this, for what she had schemed would fail
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 299 
 
 at last? Fairfax answered: "Sorry to have kept you 
 waiting John. Salome and I had so many things to 
 talk about. Pity she didn't disclose her identity 
 sooner." 
 
 He threw his hands behind him; he did not offer 
 to assist his guest into her carriage. 
 
 Burgoyne's face paled under the thick yellow skin. 
 When he first saw the two they were so quiet in their 
 manners, he told his wife he'd 'bet fifty dollars' Sa- 
 lome had not told at last; but, when Fairfax spoke, 
 the 'Jhn' and 'Salome' told the whole story. That 
 was the first move in retaliation. They had supposed 
 that he would rave and storm in helpless rage, then 
 keep in secrecy, probably from his delicate wife, the 
 shameful story. For Zoe's sake too they thought he 
 would be silent. These guesses only proved how 
 little they knew him. He was a true descendant of 
 Samson. 
 
 Mrs. Burgoyne leaned over the side of the carriage : 
 
 " Colonel Fairfax have pity on my innocent child- 
 ren. For their sake hide this disgraceful story." 
 
 " My child was made the victim of fraud and lies. 
 You married this man, knowing he was a runawayj 
 thieving slave. I shall not add to my daughter's 
 degradation by trying to hide it. And now SalomCj 
 one last word to you. Since you have fully identified 
 yourself to me, since you have confessed the crime of 
 burning my house, I give you twenty-four hours to 
 get yourself out of the state." 
 
 He turned abruptly, entered the gate, passed the 
 ruin and disappeared up the path under the beeches. 
 His head was cool and clear, every sense was alert 
 and ready for action.
 
 300 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax sat on the veranda with her brother. 
 She had taken a shawl from the hall tree, and yet she 
 shivered, and said, "I must go and take my medicine 
 and rest awhile." 
 
 Westlake answered, " Yes, now that the excite- 
 ment's over, you look very tired." 
 
 Still she lingered to talk over the wedding, and to 
 say how pretty Zoe looked. What a beautiful tableau 
 it was. Even her father, though so white and stern 
 was never handsomer in his life. Westlake was quite 
 in sympathy with his sister. Though he had said 
 little in the presence of the colonel, either for or 
 against the marriage, yet, what he did say had shown 
 his brother-in-law his true sentiment. Fairfax had 
 known that he stood alone in his disapproval of the 
 foreigner. Westlake was saying: "Now if the col- 
 onel can manage, without committing himself too far, 
 to put Adelaide's boy in old Treslyn's boots, both the 
 youngsters will be provided for, very nicely. There 
 need be no jealousy between you and Adelaide in 
 regard to either money or position;" when he saw 
 Fairfax coming up the sun-flecked walk. He had his 
 hat in his hand, and as he approached, the two on the 
 veranda saw how his face had changed. The sadness 
 had disappeared. He looked as if at peace with all 
 the world, and ready for a new lease of life and hap- 
 piness.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 301 
 
 " I guess the countess has reconciled him," West- 
 lake said. 
 
 " I sincerely hope so," Mrs. Fairfax answered. 
 
 Then he was at the steps. Looking at his watch 
 he called to a loitering boy on the lawn to go and have 
 his horse brought round at once. 
 
 " Tell Pomp he must go with me. Before I go to 
 change my clothes, I will tell you, Marcia, and you 
 George, who it is in reality that Zoe has married." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax felt her heart bound and then stand 
 still. Was her daughter's fortune better than she had 
 expected? 
 
 Her husband, seeing her rising and receding color, 
 wondered, " Will it be safe to tell her? Can she bear 
 it? " Westlake pulled himself up from his lounging 
 position. Things must be all right, why else the 
 Colonel's altered demeanor? 
 
 " I'm pressed for time," Fairfax said, " What I'm 
 about to do, Marcia, I wish you to know, before it is 
 done. Brace yourself for a surprise, and a bitter dis- 
 appointment. We must make the best we can of a 
 shocking bad bargain." 
 
 "Oh Jasper, what can it be ! " she whispered. 
 
 " This woman," he said deliberately, "is my dead 
 Uncle-in-law's illegitimate daughter Salome." 
 
 "O Jasper! No! She cannot be! " 
 
 " She proved herself to me beyond a doubt. Her 
 son is also illegitimate. His father was the notorious 
 old Luke Bedell." 
 
 "Jasper this cannot be true! Salome is dead, long 
 ago. She lies buried in the church-yard yonder." 
 
 Fairfax hurried up the stairs followed by his wife
 
 3O2 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 and her brother. While making a few changes in his 
 clothing, he told them the whole story. 
 
 When it was finished, Westlake said: 
 
 " But it looks silly, unreasonable that she should 
 tell you this. Why shouldn't she have kept it to her- 
 self? 
 
 " Because she's the usual fool I reckon that the 
 average villain is. She was surprised that I was not 
 in rage. Evidently she expected to see me paw the air 
 and tear up the earth, and probably go off at once by 
 the paralysis or apoplexy route, and she would walk 
 into Zoe's inheritance. But, I'm still in the saddle, 
 and ready to out-wit a regiment of niggers, with Bur- 
 goyne to lead them." 
 
 "Oh but what will you do? What can you do? " 
 Mrs. Fairfax wailed. 
 
 " I'm going to telegraph Zoe at Farmingham. The 
 train stops there thirty minutes for supper. I'll tell 
 her the whole story, and ask her to come home. A 
 separation can be arranged very easily." 
 
 "And if she doesn't come? Oh she was so earnest- 
 ly in love with Guido, and I thought it so beautiful! " 
 
 " I thought it a stupendous fraud, but not as big 
 as it is. We can't force her to come back. If she 
 doesn't come, then I shall call upon a boy who was 
 at the office to see me yesterday. I shall be in a 
 proper frame of mind to make very liberal terms 
 with him." 
 
 "Oh Jasper you won't disinherit our poor child? " 
 
 " No, I shall not disinherit her. I'll always pro- 
 vide for her," then with a smile that looked amazing- 
 ly like a sneer, he glanced at Westlake, continuing:
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 303 
 
 " No doubt she'll have her Uncle's fortune too, since 
 he has been in favor of this brilliant alliance." 
 
 Westlake rammed his hands deep into his trousers 
 pockets, and muttered a curse on his own stupidity. 
 
 The colonel's toilet was finished, and picking up 
 his hat and gloves he said: "No, I'll not disinherit 
 Zoe, and she shall come home whenever she wishes to, 
 and stay as long as she pleases; but if that damned 
 darkey bastard ever sets foot on the farms while I 
 live, I'll shoot him." 
 
 He hurried down the stairs. His horse was at the 
 door; he swung himself into the saddle and his wife 
 heard the clattering hoofs on the drive. When all 
 was quiet, she called Ceely, had herself undressed 
 and threw herself on her couch, the most thoroughly 
 miserable woman alive. 
 
 Fairfax went straight to the telegraph office and 
 great was the surprise of the operator at the message. 
 It was "just like the colonel," everybody said when 
 the whole story was made public. 
 
 After the message was sent, he walked up and 
 down, sat for a minute and read a city paper, made 
 computations in a note book, and finally walked to 
 the bank, only a block away, saying, "I'll be back in 
 a minute. Keep whatever comes for me." 
 
 So it was, that as he came in a few minutes later, 
 his answer was just ticking off. He sighed heavily 
 as he read: 
 
 " Forgive me, papa, I love Guido. He is my hus- 
 band. I care not what else he may be." 
 
 It was signed only, " Zoe Fairfax." Poor child! 
 there was no other name for her.
 
 304 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 The correspondent of a city paper put himself in 
 the door as Fairfax was about to pass. 
 
 "Pardon me, Colonel Fairfax; may I have these 
 matters for my letter? " 
 
 " If you'll tell the plain truth about them, yes. The 
 story is bad enough, there's no need of embellish- 
 ment. Get a copy of this telegram from the operator. 
 I want this for Mrs. Fairfax." 
 
 Again he mounted his horse, and, in a few minutes 
 he was ringing the bell at the door of Senator Cogs- 
 well's house. 
 
 " Is Mr. Fairfax in the house? " he asked of the 
 boy who opened the door. 
 
 " Yes sah. Step in de pa'lo'," and he disappeared 
 up the stairs with the colonel's card. 
 
 "What can it mean?" Mrs. Cogswell had wondered 
 when she saw Fairfax alight at the gate. She was 
 more than ever mystified by the boy's message. 
 
 Jasper had but just come in. He had brought Mr. 
 Carleton from the station, and was finishing his ac- 
 count of his call upon his father. 
 
 When the boy handed him the card, saying " De 
 Colonel's in de pa'lo' " Jasper said to his mother and 
 Mrs. Cogswell: 
 
 " Now this is beautifully polite of the colonel to 
 return my call on a day like this. Oh, by the way: 
 I saw my little sister as she was stepping into the 
 coach. Such a pretty, delicate pink and white girl! 
 A real carnation! isn't she Mrs. Cogswell?" 
 
 " Yes Zoe's very pretty and sweet. Such a pity ;" 
 and she shook her head sadly. 
 
 "Now dear," said Mrs. Fairfax, "whatever your
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 305 
 
 father's errand may be, don't vex him. Be patient 
 and considerate. No doubt he's very unhappy." 
 
 " Now listen to me, Mother Adelaide;" and he held 
 her hands and gave her a little shake. "Wouldn't 
 you better run down stairs and tell the colonel to be 
 considerate? If he isn't I'll black his eye;" and he 
 left her, throwing a laughing glance from the hall 
 below. 
 
 " Come away dear," Mrs. Cogswell said to Mrs. 
 Fairfax as she leaned over the baluster. "Come into 
 my room and wait. There'll be no trouble. I'm sure 
 the colonel will do what is right. He's been so 
 troubled over this love affair, and his wife has op- 
 posed him, all the way, and nobody knows who these 
 people are, only they're relations of John Burgoyne. 
 Now that it's all over the colonel will do as he's done 
 before; in time of trouble, just endure it and make 
 the best of it. You may be sure nobody '11 ever catch 
 him whimpering." 
 
 Fairfax was walking up and down the long room. 
 As he heard his son come in he turned and advanced 
 to meet him, extending his hand. 
 
 " You said yesterday you would like to be friends 
 with me:. Are you still of the same mind? " 
 
 "Indeed I am, Colonel. Without going into the 
 ethics of the situation, or drawing any lines, it seems 
 to me, that meeting, just as any two persons meet, we 
 might find each other pleasant. In spite of our dif- 
 ference of opinion in regard to some matters, I don't 
 mind saying that I like you immensely." 
 
 The face was so bright, the eyes so fearless, the 
 pressure of the hand so firm and cordial. 
 
 Fairfax smiled : " You are certainly generous.
 
 306 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 I cannot tell you how pleased I am to see evidence of 
 so many of the best traits of both your mother's 
 family and my own, in your character. You wonder- 
 ed yesterday what had happened me that had sent me 
 to the devil. It was a disagreeable truth plainly 
 spoken ; " 
 
 " Colonel, I beg your pardon; " 
 
 " Not in the least necessary. I'm not here to make 
 you take it back. The fact is I've been puzzled for 
 some time over the same query. To-day, after the 
 little girl had gone, I found it all out. I want to tell 
 you about it. It will fully explain my change, not of 
 heart, but of action." 
 
 So, in one short terse chapter, the son had the story 
 of his father's youth, and of the consequences of that 
 one intended sin that had only this day overtaken 
 him. He spared himself in nothing. If this boy had 
 trodden forbidden paths, then he knew that his father 
 had sinned sufficiently to make him forgiving. If he 
 had lived the life of an ascetic, then, appreciating the 
 lofty strength of his father's character he must know 
 that there had been for him, something sweetly al- 
 luring in sin. 
 
 The story was finished with the confession of Sa- 
 lome. The colonel said: 
 
 " I have been wondering, ever since I discovered 
 Zoe's infatuation for the fellow if anything I had 
 ever done was accountable for it. I like to gather in 
 my own harvest if possible. I find now that if I had 
 employed detectives instead of indulging in sentiment 
 at the time of the fire it would have been much more 
 sensible, and would have spared me remorse then in 
 regard to Salome, and to-day as concerns Zoe's posi-
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 307 
 
 tion in life. But we can only use the light we happen 
 to have, and take the consequences of any mistakes 
 we make. Everything has seemed to work like a 
 charm in favor of Salome's scheme for possession of 
 the farms ; but, I still hold a higher card than the one 
 she has taken, and, I have the last play." 
 
 When his father ceased speaking, young Fairfax 
 sat silent for a moment. A smile broke over his face, 
 then he laughed outright. 
 
 " Colonel, I beg your pardon ; but, it's such a pity 
 you're not in position to enjoy this stupendous joke." 
 
 "Oh I think I appreciate it," and he laughed quiet- 
 ly as he had done at the ruin. " I was so relieved to 
 find that Salome and Victor were two reckless darkey 
 fire-bugs instead of blundering martyrs that I could 
 have thrown up my hat and yelled; but, I still had 
 Zoe to think of." 
 
 " Poor little girl! Clay Jerome was very fond of 
 her." 
 
 " Yes, I know it, and I had my hopes, but, there's 
 no use of saying anything more about it; " then 
 he told of his message to Zoe and her answer. 
 
 "And now," he continued, "since that old sin has 
 run me to cover, and another is fast after me, I cry 
 peccavi and surrender. Lord Treslyn and I are on 
 the same scent for an heir. I am ahead, and, " 
 
 "Oh Colonel Fairfax! No! Believe me that was 
 not my errand here. My mother will never consent 
 to it!" 
 
 The colonel caught his breath. "I am very thor- 
 oughly satisfied that it was not your intention, in 
 coming here, to claim Fairfax Farms; but, when one 
 embarks in an enterprise, there's not always a cer-
 
 308 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 tainty as to the outcome. Unfortunately for me 
 your mother has been left out of the affairs of my life 
 for so long, I find it impossible to consider her now, 
 excepting vicariously." 
 
 " But I cannot agree to accept what should belong 
 to my to your daughter." 
 
 " You'll not be asked to do that. Your sister will 
 be amply provided for. By the terms of the will I 
 shall make, you become her trustee if both of you 
 outlive me." 
 
 " Colonel, I can't! Absolutely I cannot do it! " 
 
 "You can, and you will! You'll have Fairfax 
 Farms. Do you suppose I'm going to have that 
 low-down nigger tramping over the soil that's rich 
 with the lives and toil of five generations of us? Not 
 unless 1 die within the next five minutes. Here 
 comes Cogswell. He's my man of business in mat- 
 ters of this kind. Send that hall boy for your English- 
 man. I want this all settled at once. Flash may 
 throw me on my way home." 
 
 Still Jasper hesitated, smiling and remonstrating. 
 He was cut short with: 
 
 "Come, sir, I'm accustomed to obedience;" a 
 pause, then, "from boys; I confess women are too 
 much for me." 
 
 Cogswell came in as Carleton came down the stairs, 
 and the two lawyers joined the father and son. Col- 
 onel Fairfax hurried the matter through. The 
 English document was filled out, and amidst Carle- 
 ton's "Bless my souls! " and "God bless the boys!" 
 and other expressions of delight, Cogswell was given 
 a brief synopsis of the disclosures following the wed-
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 309 
 
 ding, and directions for the drawing up of a will dis- 
 posing of Fairfax Farms. 
 
 "And now," said the colonel rising briskly, "I 
 must hurry home. I left Mrs. Fairfax on the verge 
 of distraction; but these matters had to be attended 
 to. When do you sail? " turning to Carleton. 
 
 "Just as &oon as this young man can make himself 
 ready. We will leave for Washington to-morrow. 
 The precarious state of Lord Treslyn's health makes 
 the utmost haste necessary. I want him to see the 
 heir I have found for him, and to have all legal for- 
 malities complied with while he is still alive." 
 
 " Yes, yes," Fairfax responded. " I'll see you, 
 Jasper, before you go, probably at the station." 
 
 He was nearing the door, accompanied by the 
 three, and by the Jeromes, father and son, who had 
 come in. In the hall, he extended his hand to his 
 son. 
 
 "Allow me to be the first to congratulate the new 
 Lord Treslyn." 
 
 His hand was clasped cordially, earnestly, and the 
 other hand of the young man was on his shoulder. 
 
 " Thank you a thousand times ; but I want to say 
 that I'd rather stand here, Jasper Fairfax Junior, 
 than to be Queen Victoria." 
 
 Such a chorus of laughter was borne to the two 
 anxious women up-stairs. 
 
 Colonel Fairfax was escorted to the gate by his 
 son and the two Jeromes. They went down the 
 walk still laughing, and Pomp, seeing his master in 
 such fine spirits showed all his big teeth as Jasper 
 said to him:
 
 310 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " Darkey, you want to lead your master's horse 
 every step of the way home. He looks dangerous." 
 
 " W'y Mas' Jaspa," he answered "dat hoss's gentle 
 as HI lamb. Youens des come to de fa'm some day 
 an' see." 
 
 "All right," Jasper answered. 
 
 " This is your new Boss, Pomp, sure enough," 
 Fairfax said, and then with an exchange of goodbyes 
 and exaggerated military salutes, master and man rode 
 away. 
 
 Jasper ran upstairs. In the hall he saw his mother, 
 half hidden by the window drapery. Mrs. Cogswell 
 tiptoed away with a signal to him. He stole quietly 
 across the room, and silently clasped his mother in 
 his arms. She turned a white, white face to meet 
 him. Tenderly he kissed her, over and over again. 
 
 "Precious little mama! She made a big mistake 
 too, didn't she? "
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 311 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 " Dinneh's waitin' sah," Prax said as he received 
 his master in the hall. 
 
 " Is your mistress down? " 
 
 " No sah. She's not comin'. She's got a bad 
 headache." 
 
 " Then let dinner wait a minute longer, or tell Mr. 
 George not to wait, while I go and see Mrs. Fairfax." 
 
 Lying on her couch in the dimly lighted room, 
 her head swathed in napkins, her cheeks pale and 
 sunken, great purple hollows below her eyes, Mrs. 
 Fairfax bore no resemblance to the lovely, fragile, 
 pink cheeked matron of the morning. Her husband 
 knelt beside her and clasped her hands. 
 
 " Did Zoe answer? Is she coming? " 
 
 " She answered, but she's not coming." 
 
 "Oh ! " Mrs. Fairfax closed her eyes, pressing two 
 big tears into the purple hollows below them. 
 
 " Dear," he said, "we must make the best we can 
 of it. After all, little Zoe's happiness is the one 
 thing we wish to secure. This nameless boy may- 
 prove kind, and loving, and all that she desires. Since 
 she will not come back to us, let us hope that she will 
 be happy in her choice." 
 
 " You can comfort yourself. You have another 
 child." 
 
 " That other child doesn't make Zoe less dear. That 
 other child may prove a protector for our dear girl
 
 312 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 after you and I are gone. To-day, for the first time 
 since I heard of the birth of my son, I was glad of his 
 existence. To-day I would be utterly beaten if 
 'twere not for him." 
 
 " Does he resemble you? " 
 
 " Very much. I hope he may be a better man than 
 I've been, and make fewer mistakes. Now dear, you 
 must have a cup of tea, and something nice to eat. 
 You're quite worn out. You've had a great deal to 
 do and bear that never should have come near you. 
 But, we can't always take all the consequences of our 
 sins. How I regret that, since I am responsible for 
 all this trouble I could not have known, and been less 
 of a savage." 
 
 "Ah, I only wish," but the trembling voice broke 
 down in a fit of sobbing. 
 
 " There, dear, there, darling wife, don't bother to 
 wish anything. Each one of us did what we thought 
 was best. It is all past. In the future we must try 
 to keep Zoe within call. We'll go, as soon as you 
 care to, and find her. If she's unhappy and would 
 dislike to come here amongst old friends, we will live 
 in any place she prefers. We'll turn gypsies and 
 live in tents for the rest of our lives, if she wishes it." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax opened her swollen eyes. Her hus- 
 band smiled at her, but, there was an unmistakable 
 tone of pity running through his words. This was 
 so different from what she had been expecting. She 
 had dreaded his coming home, no matter what would 
 be the answer to his message to Zoe. She had been 
 so sure there was nothing in the future for her but 
 reproaches, or the lofty scorn of silence. Here now, 
 her husband took all the blame upon himself, and was
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 313 
 
 ready to do anything for her own comfort and repose 
 of mind. The future that she had pictured through 
 the long afternoon as full of storms and coldness she 
 now saw, in a tempered peaceful light. Her hus- 
 band's words and manners were as soothing to her 
 as a gentle narcotic. Even the few words in regard 
 to the son had comfort in them. She needed no as- 
 surance that this son had heard no disparaging word 
 of her. 
 
 Then she wondered if her husband had seen his 
 son's mother; but fearing she would be misunder- 
 stood she would not ask. Why should she care if he 
 had seen her, or if he had not? Could she question 
 his loyalty to her now? If he could come to her with 
 words of love and soothing after passing through this 
 day, what could he not do in the greatness of his heart, 
 the strength of his soul? 
 
 What had she done in all the best days of her life 
 to deserve the love of this man? Being his wife, re- 
 ceiving all these years his affection and care, she felt 
 that universal womanhood was honored in her. Had 
 not the sacrifice made by Adelaide Francis proved 
 that she would have better deserved the love and 
 protection of this strong nature through all her days? 
 
 It was only right; it was the justice of that eternal 
 principle that at last arbitrates all endeavor, that 
 Adelaide's son and her own daughter occupied their 
 positions in relation to the father. 
 
 Fairfax kissed the wan cheek and went down stairs. 
 At dinner he told Westlake of all that had been done, 
 towards putting young Jasper in the proper position 
 as heir to the farms as well as the English property, 
 adding:
 
 314 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " Now the next thing to do is to smoothe away 
 every care and annoyance for Marcia. I've told her 
 that we would go to Europe as soon as she's ready, 
 but, you know, as well as I do, what her state of 
 health is. After she rallies from the weariness of 
 the last few weeks, and from the shock of to-day's 
 discoveries, she may be much better than she's been 
 lately. But, I'm doubtful, and Henry doesn't give me 
 any encouragement. What I'm coming at is, that if 
 we find she's not strong enough to cross the water, 
 I want you to go. Zoe won't deceive you." 
 
 "All right, I'll do it." 
 
 " If men could look ahead occasionally, and see the 
 harvesting of their sins, I fancy the world would 
 rapidly grow better." 
 
 Westlake laughed. "Old man, first thing you 
 know, you'll be sailing round here on a pair of wings. 
 Your conscience is a sort of foundling hospital. It 
 takes in all the sins that are lying about unclaimed." 
 
 " No hardly that. I know my own, and I sin- 
 cerely wish that Nemesis would scourge me for them 
 instead of putting my helpless girl in the pillory." 
 
 They left the table and Fairfax went up to inquire 
 about his wife. She was sound asleep. He came 
 down, and finding Westake on the veranda, they sat 
 together and smoked for a half hour. When a feel- 
 ing of drowsiness stole over the colonel, he won- 
 dered at it, then remembered, as if it had happened 
 years ago, how he had passed the night before.
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 315 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVL 
 
 Colonel Fairfax was awakened next morning by 
 the capricious trilling of a mocking-bird near his 
 window. At first he heard it as a part of his dreams ; 
 and, in the delicious languor that lingers after a long, 
 healthful sleep he lost all records of time. He knew 
 that he was at home, but, was he not a child, and 
 would he not hear the cautious step of his mother or 
 Sheba stealing in to drive the bird away. No, it 
 kept on singing. He must be older. It was vacation 
 time. His mother was gone, his father an invalid 
 from that accident in the woods with his rifle. The 
 bird would trill on until it was hungry or weary. The 
 monotony of the notes at last fully wakened him. 
 Then his first sensation was that something strange 
 and pleasant had happened or was about to happen. 
 There was a delightful sense of newness, of a fresh 
 beginning. He found himself drowsily repeating, 
 "Old things have passed away." The sound of his 
 voice, and the words made it all clear. 
 
 Springing up, he exclaimed: "Oh it's the boy! the 
 boy! What a refreshingly honest, generous, fearless 
 rascal he is ! " 
 
 He dressed himself hurriedly, pushing Prax about 
 and jeering at his awkwardness as he had done when 
 they were boys together; and Prax answered, "Yes, 
 Mas' Fai'fax" until his master wheeled upon him and 
 rushed him into a corner.
 
 316 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 " What do you mean? How much older am I 
 now than I was a few days ago? " 
 
 " W'y Mas' Fai'fax 7 dunno how old youens is any 
 day." 
 
 " Well then, what's the reason I'm Fairfax, now, 
 after being Jasper always before? " 
 
 " W'y yo' see Mas' Fai'fax, odder day, I done see 
 Mas' Jaspa, swingin' long de street wid Misteh Clay 
 Jerome lak' de whole place was'nt mo'n half big nuff 
 fo' him, an' I done tole all de niggahs roun' hyah, 
 dat w'en a man has a fine son lak dat he kin affo'd 
 heaps o' style, an' I'se not gwine fo' to call youens 
 Mas' Jaspa, no mo'." 
 
 Fairfax stood with arms akimbo, laughing silently 
 during this explanation. 
 
 "All right Prax, I'll forgive you if you call me Dan 
 Tucker with an excuse like that. Here's something 
 to use for drinks to your young master's health. 
 Probably we can have him here for his next birthday 
 anniversary." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax came into the breakfast room, pale, 
 quiet, sad, but with no symptoms of tears: 
 
 Fairfax said as he was going: 
 
 " I'm in a hurry this morning, or I'd ask you to 
 go with me. Would you like to take a drive up the 
 river road later in the day? While the afternoon 
 sun is warm? " 
 
 " Yes, very much." 
 
 " Then I'll come home and lunch with you at one 
 o'clock, and we'll go and see the Spring coming along 
 the river." 
 
 He stooped and kissed her, and was gone. 
 
 At ten o'clock he entered the waiting room of the
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 317 
 
 railway station. The train was due in a few minutes. 
 He looked about hurriedly, but amongst the dozen 
 or two of persons there, he saw neither Jasper nor 
 Carleton. But, he saw some one else ; a tall, slender 
 elegant woman in a close fitting suit of softest gray. 
 At the same instant she saw him. Their eyes met, 
 and she would have turned away, but he advanced 
 quickly to where she stood. 
 
 Extending his hand, he said: "Adelaide, this is 
 too good to believe. I came to finish a little busi- 
 ness with Jasper." 
 
 " I'm sure he'll be Jiere soon. He and Mr. Carle- 
 ton are together, looking up some boxes we brought 
 with us from Lexington." 
 
 " How little you've changed." 
 
 " Yes? I'm afraid my mirror tells a different 
 story." 
 
 " Any change there may be has only added to your 
 beauty." 
 
 She lifted her hand, a smile like sunshine broke 
 over her fine face. 
 
 " I never knew you as a flatterer." 
 
 " No, you knew me as a dealer in plain truth. You 
 know too that this subject was one perfectly under- 
 stood between us." 
 
 " Yes, but we are old now." 
 
 He laughed: "I see pretty well yet, and I hope you 
 are not so old but that there are many happy years 
 for you in the position now open to this splendid boy," 
 as Jasper approached. 
 
 "Ah, I'm so glad! " he exclaimed, as he grasped 
 his father's hand and glanced from one to the other.
 
 318 Jasper Fairfax. 
 
 "I'm so glad," he repeated, "that you came to see us 
 off and wish us bon voyage." 
 
 "I still had a trifle of business with you. Here's a 
 letter of credit " 
 
 " Now, now Colonel," and he backed away with 
 uplifted hands. 
 
 " Young man," Fairfax said with great show of 
 seriousness, " I'm afraid your mother has neglected 
 one part of your training. I don't know what sort 
 of a bout you and I will have, some day to prove 
 which is the better man. Put this in your pocket, 
 or I must insist on your mother carrying it for you/' 
 
 It was over as a joke, and before another word was 
 said, Carleton hurried in. The train was about to 
 stop. 
 
 Fairfax shook hands with the lawyer with hearty 
 words of farewell and invitation to return. He stood 
 bareheaded while he clasped the slender gloved hand 
 of his son's mother and whispered. 
 
 " Goodbye, Adelaide. God bless you and our 
 son." 
 
 Then, with his soul in his eyes he turned to his son. 
 They clasped hands. 
 
 " Goodbye Jasper." His voice trembled, his mouth 
 twitched under his mustache. 
 
 " Goodbye,"* the pause of a breath, then, "father." 
 and a mist hid the laughing light of the young gray 
 eyes. 
 
 "Oh my boy! my boy! Goodbye!" 
 
 For an instant, Adelaide dropped her own on the 
 two clasped hands. There was an indescribable 
 look in her eyes as she turned them from father to
 
 Jasper Fairfax. 319 
 
 son, then she hurried away. Carleton handed her 
 into the coach, and Jasper followed her. 
 
 Colonel Fairfax stood, hat in hand and watched the 
 train until it disappeared. Then, as in a dream he 
 walked towards his office. He had but one thought: 
 "Adelaide : the truest, most womanly woman of 
 them all." 
 
 He could not say that the meeting was wholly un- 
 expected, undesired. It might have been avoided. 
 He had not realized the power that this wife of his 
 youth still held over him. When he saw her, there 
 was nothing 1 to be done but what was done. 
 
 He tried to recall the resentment he had felt 
 towards her. It was gone. In its place stood a 
 question: Had any other man in the North, or in the 
 South, sacrificed as much as he had to prove his faith 
 in his opinions? 
 
 Slowly he walked the streets, swiftly his thoughts 
 travelled. They were away hundreds of years, thou- 
 sands of miles. He thought of a profligate king, 
 lover of many women, husband of many wives, 
 father of two daughters and a puny son. When he 
 came to die, of all these women, wives and paramours, 
 only one was remembered. He directed that his body 
 should be laid beside his beloved wife, Jane Seymour, 
 mother of his son. 
 
 THE END.
 
 f2tno, doth, $1.2$ 
 
 THE MASSARENES 
 
 By OUIDA 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 UNDER TWO FI^GS," " WAJTOA," KtC. 
 
 "The finish of the story is as artistic as is that 
 of 'Vanity Fair' " N. Y, Journal. 
 
 " Ouida in her old age has written her best book. ' ' 
 Evening Sun. 
 
 " It is the strongest she has written with the pos- 
 sible exception of 'Under Two Flags.' " N. Y. Press 
 
 " Ouida beats them all; her latest story is mora 
 wicked than those of the modern sensationalist, 
 and better told. Chicago Journal. 
 
 " In some respects the ablest of all her books. " 
 AT. Y. Herald. 
 
 "There is not a dull page in the novel. " Boston 
 Gazette. 
 
 " Ouida' s stories are never dull, and this one is 
 quite as lively as any of the others." Army and 
 rfavy Register. 
 
 "She has not lost any of her cynioism nor any of 
 her skill to weave a seductive plot." Boston Globe. 
 
 "There is a distinct moral purpose running all 
 through the book, a purpose which it will be im- 
 possible for the most careless reader to overlook. " 
 7%e Beacon, Boston. 
 
 " A clever story of English high life as it is re- 
 presented to-day." The Bookseller. 
 
 " A decided story-interest and some clever char- 
 acter drawing." The Outlook. 
 
 " Katharine Massarene is drawn with a skill that 
 makes her one of the best female characters that 
 4 Ouida' h,s given us. " Public Opinion. 
 
 /ORX: R. F. FENNO & COMPANY
 
 flplii 
 
 ^ I 4ob 409 o