Virginia’s annoyance came from the fact that she perceived in Stephen a natural and merciless logic,—­a faculty for getting at the bottom of things.  His brain did not seem to be thrown out of gear by local magnetic influences,—­by beauty, for instance.  He did not lose his head, as did some others she knew, at the approach of feminine charms.  Here was a grand subject, then, to try the mettle of any woman.  One with less mettle would have given it up.  But Virginia thought it would be delightful to bring this particular Yankee to his knees; and—­and leave him there.

“Mr. Brice,” she said, “I have not spoken to you since the night of my party.  I believe we danced together.”

“Yes, we did,” said he, “and I called, but was unfortunate.”

“You called?”

Ah, Virginia!

“They did not tell you!” cried Stephen.

Now Miss Carvel was complacency itself.

“Jackson is so careless with cards,” said she, “and very often I do not take the trouble to read them.”

“I am sorry,” said he, “as I wished for the opportunity to tell you how much I enjoyed myself.  I have found everybody in St. Louis very kind to strangers.”

Virginia was nearly disarmed.  She remembered how, she had opposed his coning.  But honesty as well as something else prompted her to say:  “It was my father who invited you.”

Stephen did not reveal the shock his vanity had received.

“At least you were good enough to dance with me.”

“I could scarcely refuse a guest,” she replied.

He held up his head.

“Had I thought it would have given you annoyance,” he said quietly, “I should not have asked you.”

“Which would have been a lack of good manners,” said Virginia, biting her lips.

Stephen answered nothing, but wished himself in St. Louis.  He could not comprehend her cruelty.  But, just then, the bell rang for supper, and the Colonel appeared around the end of the house.

It was one of those suppers for which the South is renowned.  And when at length he could induce Stephen to eat no more, Colonel Carvel reached for his broad-brimmed felt bat, and sat smoking, with his feet against the mantle.  Virginia, who had talked but little, disappeared with a tray on which she had placed with her own hands some dainties to tempt the Judge.

The Colonel regaled Stephen, when she was gone, with the pedigree and performance of every horse he had had in his stable.  And this was a relief, as it gave him an opportunity to think without interruption upon Virginia’s pronounced attitude of dislike.  To him it was inconceivable that a young woman of such qualities as she appeared to have, should assail him so persistently for freeing a negress, and so depriving her of a maid she had set her heart upon.  There were other New England young men in society.  Mr. Weston and Mr. Carpenter, and more.  They were not her particular friends, to be sure.  But they called on her and danced with her, and she had shown them not the least antipathy.  But it was to Stephen’s credit that he did not analyze her further.