I'm not to be put off that way, you know.

If I call you Miss Caroline,--and I've sworn to call you nothing else,--you must be Miss Caroline." She searched my face eagerly,--then-- "You _shall_ call me Miss Caroline--but remember, sir, it makes you my servant." She smiled again, without the icy reserve this time, whereat I was glad--but back of the smile I could see that she felt a bitter homesickness of the new place.
"Your most obedient servant," I said.

"You have another slave, Miss Caroline, another that refuses manumission--another bit of personal property, clumsy but willing." "Thank you, Major, I need your kindness more than I might seem to need it.

Good night!" and even then she gave me a rose, with the same coquetry, I doubt not, that had once made Colonel Jere Lansdale quick to think of his pistols when another evoked it.

Only now it masked her weariness, her sense of desperate desolation.