“Three thousand,” says Mr. Ford.  He tosses off a pony of Bourbon, but his face is not a delight to look upon, “Hopper, you’ll be a d—­d rich man some day.”

“I cal’late to.”

“I do the dirty work.  And because I ain’t got no capital, I only get four per cent.”

“Don’t one-twenty a day suit you?”

“You get blasted near a thousand.  And you’ve got horse contracts, and blanket contracts besides.  I know you.  What’s to prevent my goin’ south when the vouchers is cashed?” he cried.  “Ain’t it possible?”

“I presume likely,” said Mr. Hopper, quietly.  “Then your mother’ll have to move out of her little place.”

CHAPTER II

NEWS FROM CLARENCE

The epithet aristocrat may become odious and fatal on the banks of the Mississippi as it was on the banks of the Seine.  Let no man deceive himself!  These are fearful times.  Thousands of our population, by the sudden stoppage of business, are thrown out of employment.  When gaunt famine intrudes upon their household, it is but natural that they should inquire the cause.  Hunger began the French Revolution.

Virginia did not read this editorial, because it appeared in that abhorred organ of the Mudsills, the ‘Missouri Democrat.’  The wheels of fortune were turning rapidly that first hot summer of the war time.  Let us be thankful that our flesh and blood are incapable of the fury of the guillotine.  But when we think calmly of those days, can we escape without a little pity for the aristocrats?  Do you think that many of them did not know hunger and want long before that cruel war was over?

How bravely they met the grim spectre which crept so insidiously into their homes!

“Virginia, child.” said Mrs. Colfax, peevishly, one morning as they sat at breakfast, “why do you persist it wearing that old gown?  It has gotten on my nerves, my dear.  You really must have something new made, even if there are no men here to dress for.”

“Aunt Lillian, you must not say such things.  I do not think that I ever dressed to please men.”

“Tut, tut; my dear, we all do.  I did, even after married your uncle.  It is natural.  We must not go shabby in such times as these, or be out of fashion, Did you know that Prince Napoleon was actually coming here for a visit this autumn?  We must be ready for him.  I am having a fitting at Miss Elder’s to-day.”

Virginia was learning patience.  She did not reply as she poured out her aunt’s coffee.

“Jinny,” said that lady, “come with me to Elder’s, and I will give you some gowns.  If Comyn had been as careful of his own money as of mine, you could dress decently.”

“I think I do dress decently, Aunt Lillian,” answered the girl.  “I do not need the gowns.  Give me the money you intend to pay for them, and I can use it for a better purpose.”

Mrs. Colfax arranged her lace pettishly.