Virginia remained immovable.  She did not answer at once.  Then she said: 

“Do you think, in bidding against me, that he behaved, like a gentleman?”

The Colonel blundered.

“Lord, Virginia,” he said, “I thought you told the judge this afternoon teat it was done out of principle.”

Virginia ignored this.  But she bit her lip

“He is like all Yankees, without one bit of consideration for a woman.  He knew I wanted Hester.”

“What makes you imagine that he thought of you at all, my dear?” asked her father, mildly, “He does not know you.”

This time the Colonel scored certainly.  The firelight saved Virginia.

“He overheard our conversation,” she answered.

“I reckon that he wasn’t worrying much about us.  And besides, he was trying to save Hester from Jennings.”

“I thought that you said that it was to be my party, Pa,” said Virginia, irrelevantly.

The Colonel looked thoughtful, then he began to laugh.

“Haven’t we enough Black Republican friends?” she asked.

“So you won’t have him?” said the Colonel.

“I didn’t say that I wouldn’t have him,” she answered.

The Colonel rose, and brushed the ashes from his goat.

“By Gum!” he said.  “Women beat me.”

CHAPTER X

THE LITTLE HOUSE

When Stephen attempted to thank Judge Whipple for going on Hester’s bond, he merely said, “Tut, tut.”

The Judge rose at six, so his man Shadrach told Stephen.  He had his breakfast at the Planters’ House at seven, read the Missouri Democrat, and returned by eight.  Sometimes he would say good morning to Stephen and Richter, and sometimes he would not.  Mr. Whipple was out a great part of the day, and he had many visitors.  He was a very busy man.  Like a great specialist (which he was), he would see only one person at a time.  And Stephen soon discovered that his employer did not discriminate between age or sex, or importance, or condition of servitude.  In short, Stephen’s opinion of Judge Whipple altered very materially before the end of that first week.  He saw poor women and disconsolate men go into the private room ahead of rich citizens, who seemed content to wait their turn on the hard wooden chairs against the wall of the main office.  There was one incident in particular, when a well-dressed gentleman of middle age paced impatiently for two mortal hours after Shadrach had taken his card into the sanctum.  When at last he had been admitted, Mr. Richter whispered to Stephen his name.  It was that of a big railroad man from the East.  The transom let out the true state of affairs.

“See here, Callender,” the Judge was heard to say, “you fellows don’t like me, and you wouldn’t come here unless you had to.  But when your road gets in a tight place, you turn up and expect to walk in ahead of my friends.  No, sir, if you want to see me, you’ve got to wait.”