ladles whom I had known in other parts of the world; but hers was an
individual manner, I was soon to find, and by no means the Kings Port

convention. This convention permitted, indeed, condemnations of one's
neighbor no less sweeping, but it conveyed them in a phraseology far more

restrained.
"I cannot regret your coming to Kings Port," said my hostess, after we

had talked for a little while, and I had complimented the balmy March
weather and the wealth of blooming flowers; "but I fear that Fanning is

not a name that you will find here. It belongs to North Carolina."
I smiled and explained that North Carolina Fannings were useless to me.

"And, if I may be so bold, how well you are acquainted with my errand!"
I cannot say that my hostess smiled, that would be too definite; but I

can say that she did not permit herself to smile, and that she let me see
this repression. "Yes," she said, "we are acquainted with your errand,

though not with its motive."
I sat silent, thinking of the Exchange.

My hostess now gave me her own account of why all things were known to
all people in this town. "The distances in your Northern cities are

greater, and their population is much greater. There are but few of us in
Kings Port." In these last words she plainly told me that those "few"

desired no others. She next added: "My nephew, John Mayrant, has spoken
of you at some length."

I bowed. "I had the pleasure to see and hear him order a wedding cake."
"Yes. From Eliza La Heu (pronounced Layhew), my niece; he is my nephew,

she is my niece on the other side. My niece is a beginner at the
Exchange. We hope that she will fulfil her duties there in a worthy

manner. She comes from a family which is schooled to meet
responsibilities."

I bowed again; again it seemed fitting. "I had not, until now, known the
charming girl's name," I murmured.

My hostess now bowed slightly. "I am glad that you find her charming."
"Indeed, yes!" I exclaimed.

"We, also, are pleased with her. She is of good family--for the
up-country."

Once again our alphabet fails me. The peculiar shade of kindness, of
recognition, of patronage, which my agreeablehostess (and all Kings Port

ladies, I soon noticed) imparted to the word "up-country" cannot be
conveyed except by the human voice--and only a Kings Port voice at that.

It is a much lighter damnation than what they make of the phrase "from
Georgia," which I was soon to hear uttered by the lips of the lady. "And

so you know about his wedding cake?"
"My dear madam, I feel that I shall know about everything."

Her gray eyes looked at me quietly for a moment. "That is possible. But
although we may talk of ourselves to you, we scarcely expect you to talk

of ourselves to us."
Well, my pertness had brought me this quite properly! And I received it

properly. "I should never dream--" I hastened to say; "even without your
warning. I find I'm expected to have seen the young lady of his choice,"

I now threw out. My accidental words proved as miraculous as the staff
which once smote the rock. It was a stream, indeed, which now broke forth

from her stony discretion. She began easily. "It is evident that you have
not seen Miss Rieppe by the manner in which you allude to her--although

of course, in comparison with my age, she is a young girl." I think that
this caused me to open my mouth.

"The disparity between her years and my nephew's is variously stated,"
continued the old lady. "But since John's engagement we have all of us

realized that love is truly blind."
I did not open my mouth any more; but my mind's mouth was wide open.

My hostess kept it so. "Since John Mayrant was fifteen he has had many
loves; and for myself, knowing him and believing in him as I do, I feel

confident that he will make no connectiondistasteful to the family when
he really comes to marry."

This time I gasped outright. "But--the cake!--next Wednesday!"
She made, with her small white hand, a slight and slighting gesture. "The

cake is not baked yet, and we shall see what we shall see." From this
onward until the end a pinkness mounted in her pale, delicate cheeks, and

deep, strong resentment burned beneath her discreetly expressed
indiscretions. "The cake is not baked, and I, at least, am not

solicitous. I tell my cousin, Mrs. Gregory St. Michael, that she must not
forget it was merely his phosphates. That girl would never have looked at

John Mayrant had it not been for the rumor of his phosphates. I suppose
some one has explained to you her pretensions of birth. Away from Kings

Port she may pass for a native of this place, but they come from Georgia.
It cannot be said that she has met with encouragement from us; she,

however, easily recovers from such things. The present generation of
young people in Kings Port has little enough to remind us of what we

stood for in manners and customs, but we are not accountable for her, nor
for her father. I believe that he is called a general. His conduct at

Chattanooga was conspicuous for personal prudence. Both of them are
skillful in never knowing poor people--but the Northerners they consort

with must really be at a loss how to bestow their money. Of course, such
Northerners cannot realize the difference between Kings Port and Georgia,

and consequently they make much of her. Her features do undoubtedly
possess beauty. A Newport woman--the new kind--has even taken her to

Worth! And yet, after all, she has remained for John. We heard a great
deal of her men, too. She took care of that, of course. John Mayrant

actually followed her to Newport.
"But," I couldn't help crying out, "I thought he was so poor!"

"The phosphates," my hostess explained. "They had been discovered on his
land. And none of her New York men had come forward. So John rushed back

happy." At this point a very singular look came over the face of my
hostess, and she continued: "There have been many false reports (and

false hopes in consequence) based upon the phosphate discoveries. It was
I who had to break it to him--what further investigation had revealed.

Poor John!"
"He has, then, nothing?" I inquired.

"His position in the Custom House, and a penny or two from his mother's
fortune."

"But the cake?" I now once again reminded her.
My hostess lifted her delicate hand and let it fall. Her resentment at

the would-be intruder by marriage still mounted. "Not even from that pair
would I have believed such a thing possible!" she exclaimed; and she went

into a long, low, contemplative laugh, looking not at me, but at the
fire. Our silent companion continued to embroider. "That girl," my

hostess resumed, "and her discreditable father played on my nephew's
youth and chivalry to the tune of--well, you have heard the tune."

"You mean--you mean--?" I couldn't quite take it in.
"Yes. They rattled their poverty at him until he offered and they

accepted."
I must have stared grotesquely now. "That--that--the cake--and that sort

of thing--at his expense?
"My dear sir, I shall be glad if you can find me anything that they have

ever done at their own expense!"
I doubt if she would ever have permitted her speech such freedom had not

the Rieppes been "from Georgia"; I am sure that it was anger--family
anger, race anger--which had broken forth; and I think that her silent,

severe sister scarcely approved of such breaking forth to me, a stranger.
But indignation had worn her reticence thin, and I had happened to press

upon the weak place. After my burst of exclamation I came back to it. "So
you think Miss Rieppe will get out of it?"

"It is my nephew who will 'get out of it,' as you express it."
I totally misunderstood her. "Oh!" I protested stupidly. "He doesn't look

like that. And it takes all meaning from the cake."
"Do not say cake to me again!" said the lady, smiling at last. "And--will

you allow me to tell you that I do not need to have my nephew, John
Mayrant, explained to me by any one? I merely meant to say that he, and

not she, is the person who will make the lucky escape. Of course, he is
honorable--a great deal too much so for his own good. It is a misfortune,

nowadays, to be born a gentleman in America. But, as I told you, I am not
solicitous. What she is counting on--because she thinks she understands