CHAPTER IX.

EUGENE LEROY AND ALFRED LORRAINE.

Nearly twenty years before the war, two young men, of French and Spanish descent, sat conversing on a large verandah which surrounded an ancient home on the Mississippi River.  It was French in its style of architecture, large and rambling, with no hint of modern improvements.

The owner of the house was the only heir of a Creole planter.  He had come into possession of an inheritance consisting of vast baronial estates, bank stock, and a large number of slaves.  Eugene Leroy, being deprived of his parents, was left, at an early age, to the care of a distant relative, who had sent him to school and college, and who occasionally invited him to spend his vacations at his home.  But Eugene generally declined his invitations, as he preferred spending his vacations at the watering places in the North, with their fashionable and not always innocent gayeties.  Young, vivacious, impulsive, and undisciplined, without the restraining influence of a mother’s love or the guidance of a father’s hand, Leroy found himself, when his college days were over, in the dangerous position of a young man with vast possessions, abundant leisure, unsettled principles, and uncontrolled desires.  He had no other object than to extract from life its most seductive draughts of ease and pleasure.  His companion, who sat opposite him on the verandah, quietly smoking a cigar, was a remote cousin, a few years older than himself, the warmth of whose Southern temperament had been modified by an infusion of Northern blood.

Eugene was careless, liberal, and impatient of details, while his companion and cousin, Alfred Lorraine, was selfish, eager, keen, and alert; also hard, cold, methodical, and ever ready to grasp the main chance.  Yet, notwithstanding the difference between them, they had formed a warm friendship for each other.

“Alfred,” said Eugene, “I am going to be married.”

Lorraine opened his eyes with sudden wonder, and exclaimed:  “Well, that’s the latest thing out!  Who is the fortunate lady who has bound you with her silken fetters?  Is it one of those beautiful Creole girls who were visiting Augustine’s plantation last winter?  I watched you during our visit there and thought that you could not be proof against their attractions.  Which is your choice?  It would puzzle me to judge between the two.  They had splendid eyes, dark, luminous, and languishing; lovely complexions and magnificent hair.  Both were delightful in their manners, refined and cultured, with an air of vivacity mingled with their repose of manner which was perfectly charming.  As the law only allows us one, which is your choice?  Miss Annette has more force than her sister, and if I could afford the luxury of a wife she would be my choice.”

“Ah, Alf,” said Eugene, “I see that you are a practical business man.  In marrying you want a wife to assist you as an efficient plantation mistress.  One who would tolerate no waste in the kitchen and no disorder in the parlor.”