Over there, near that little grove, were three great barns and lesser out-buildings, besides the negro quarters, smoke-houses, and hay-ricks.

Really a wonderful place in its day, Kate." Then he went on to tell of how the verandas were shaded with honeysuckles, and the halls, drawing-rooms, and dining-room crowded with furniture; how there were yellow damask curtains, and screens, and hair-cloth sofas and a harmonicon of musical glasses which was played by wetting one's fingers in a bowl of water and passing them over the rims--he had played on it himself when a boy; and slaves galore--nearly one hundred of them, not to mention a thousand acres of tillable land to plough and harrow, as well as sheep, oxen, pigs, chickens, ducks--everything that a man of wealth and position might have had in the old days, and about every one of which St.George had a memory.
Then when Tom's father, who was the sole heir, took charge (here his voice dropped to a whisper) dissolution proceedings set in--and Tom finished them! and St.George sighed heavily as he pointed out the changes:--the quarters in ruins, the stables falling to pieces, the gates tied up with strings or swinging loose; and the flocks, herds, and live-stock things of the past.

Nor had a negro been left--none Tom really owned: one by one they had been sold or hired out, or gone off nobody knew where, he being too lazy, or too indifferent, or too good-natured, to hunt them up.

The house, as Kate had seen, was equally neglected.

Even what remained of the old furniture was on its last legs--the curtains patched, or in shreds--the carpets worn into holes.
Kate listened eagerly, but she did not sigh.