They dragged her into the dining-room, where the table, decked with flowers, was handsomely arranged for dinner.  A blazing wood-fire roared on the hearth:  in front of it stood a tall, handsome man with a military air.  He was dark, with brilliant eyes, a certain regularity of features, and, as his passport declared, his hair was dark brown and curly.  Colonel Pinckney looked haughty and impenetrable, as his sister-in-law had described him.  Mrs. Pinckney, exquisitely dressed, reclined in a large chair by the corner of the fireplace:  she held up a pretty fan to screen her face from the heat, and was talking gayly to her brother-in-law.  At a table in a corner Mr. Brown, by the light of a large lamp, was endeavoring, with great difficulty, to read an English paper.

“Oh, mamma, see poor little Miss Featherstone loaded down with boxes and bundles!” shrieked the children, dragging her up to the fire.

“Dear children, do go and get Adele to take them,” said their mother.—­“Here, Mary,” to a servant who entered, “carry these packages up to my dressing-room.—­There are more in the carriage?” in reply to a remark of Miss Featherstone.—­“Adele,” to her maid, who stood at the door, “bring in everything you find in the carriage.”

Two or three weeks passed, and Colonel Pinckney made no sign of departure.  In spite of his unsocial tendencies, he drove and dined out with his sister-in-law, for many nice people chose this winter to remain at their country-houses.  He took long walks by himself, and made inroads into the school-room, for he was very fond of the children.  Mrs. Pinckney was less frequently indisposed, and exerted herself in a measure to entertain him.  She never, by any accident, occupied herself, and was one morning lying back in a large chair by a coal-fire in the library, her little idle hands resting on her lap, when Colonel Pinckney, who had been examining the books on the shelves which lined the room, assumed his usual position, with his back to the fire, and startled his sister-in-law by exclaiming, “Where did you get your white slave, Virginia?”—­Mrs. Pinckney looked bewildered—­“this young girl who fills so many places in the house?  She appears to be nurse, housekeeper, governess and maid-of-all-work in one.”

“My dear Dick, what do you mean?” exclaimed Mrs. Pinckney with some indignation.  “Do you think I impose upon Miss Featherstone?  I love her dearly.  Then my delicate health, and you know I’m obliged to be economical.”

Colonel Pinckney made a movement of impatience and almost disgust., “How much do you pay her?” he abruptly exclaimed, turning his flashing eyes upon his companion.

“How angry you look! how you frighten me!” said Mrs. Pinckney, who had a trick of coming out with everything she thought.  “I pay her”—­and she stammered—­“two hundred dollars a year.”

“The devil!” he exclaimed.  “I beg your pardon, Virginia, but I can hardly believe it.  What an absurd compensation for all that girl does!  Why, one of your dresses frequently costs more than that:  I see your bills, you know.”