MARTHA FINLEY Ultimate Collection – 35+ Novels in One Volume (Including The Complete Elsie Dinsmore Series & Mildred Keith Collection). Finley Martha

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      "Papa, you are so much wiser and better than I," she said, with loving admiration, "I'm afraid if you had not been here to advise me, I should have sent him away at once, with never a thought of crops or anything except securing my people from his cruelties."

      "You should never allow yourself to act from mere impulse, except it be unquestionably a right one, and the case admitting of no time for deliberation. As to my superior wisdom," he added with a smile, "I have lived some years longer than you, and had more experience in the management of business matters."

      "I am very sorry, my darling, that the pleasure of your return to the home of your infancy should be so marred. But you have scarcely taken a look yet at even this room. What do you think of it?"

      She glanced about her with freshly aroused curiosity and interest. "Papa, it is just to my taste!"

      The firelight gleamed upon rare old cabinets, gems of art in painting and statuary, and rich, massive, well-preserved, though old-fashioned sofas, chairs, tables, etc. But it was already growing dark, deep shadows were gathering in the more distant parts of the spacious apartment, and only near the fire could objects be distinctly seen. Elsie was about to ring for lights, when Sarah, the mulatto girl, appeared, bringing them, Chloe following close in the rear.

      "Have you fires and lights in the library, the dining-room, and your master's rooms and mine?" inquired Elsie.

      "De fires is lit, Miss Elsie."

      "Then add the lights at once, and put them in all the principal rooms of the house. We will have an illumination in honor of our arrival, papa," she said, in a sprightly tone, turning to him with one of her sweetest smiles, "and besides, I want to see the whole house now."

      "Are you not too much fatigued, daughter? and would it not be better to defer it till to-morrow?"

      "I don't think I'm too tired, papa; but if you forbid me——"

      "No, I don't forbid or even advise, if you are sure you feel equal to the exertion."

      "Thank you, sir, I think I'll be better able to sleep if I've seen at least the most of it; old memories are troubling me, and I want to see how far they are correct You will go with me?"

      "Certainly," he said, giving her his arm. "But while the servants are obeying your order in regard to the lights, let us examine these paintings more attentively. They will repay close scrutiny, for some of them are by the first masters. Your Grandfather Grayson seems to have been a man of cultivated taste, as well as great business talent."

      "Yes, papa. What is it, mammy?"

      "Does you want me, darlin'?"

      "No, not now. Go and enjoy yourself with your husband and old friends."

      Chloe expressed her grateful thanks, and withdrew.

      Elsie found the paintings and statuary a study, and had scarcely finished her survey of the drawing-room and its treasures of art, when Aunt Phillis came to ask if they would have tea served up immediately.

      Elsie looked at her father.

      "Yes," he said; "you will feel stronger after eating, and it is about our usual time."

      "Then let us have it, Aunt Phillis. How is that poor creature now?" asked her young mistress.

      "Suse, honey? oh, she'll do well 'nuff; don't do her no harm to take some ob de lazy blood out. Massa Spriggs not so terrible cross, Miss Elsie; but he bound de work git done, an' Suse she mighty powerful lazy, jes' set in de sun an' do nuffin' from mornin' to night, ef nobody roun' to make her work."

      "Ah, that is very bad; we must try to reform her in some way. But perhaps she's not well."

      "Dunno, missus; she's always 'plaining ob de misery in her back, an' misery in her head; but don't ebery one hab a misery, some kind, most days? an' go on workin' all de same. No, missus, Suse she powerful lazy ole nigga."

      With that Phillis retired, and shortly after, tea was announced as ready.

      Elsie played the part of hostess to perfection, presiding over the tea-urn with ease and grace, and pressing upon her father the numerous dainties with which the table was loaded. She seemed to have recovered her spirits, and as she sat there gayly chatting—of the room, which pleased her as entirely as the other, and of her plans for usefulness and pleasure during her stay, he thought he had never seen her look happier or more beautiful.

      "What rooms have you prepared for your mistress, Aunt Phillis?" asked Mr. Dinsmore, as they rose from the table.

      "De same whar she was born, massa, an' whar her dear bressed ma stay when she livin' heyah."

      A slight shadow stole over Elsie's bright face. "That was right," she said, low and softly. "I should prefer them to any others. But where are papa's rooms?"

      "Jes' across de hall, Miss Elsie."

      "That is a good arrangement," said Mr. Dinsmore. "Now, daughter, I think we should repair to the library. It is near the hour you appointed for Mr. Spriggs."

      "Just as handsome, as tastefully, appropriately, and luxuriously furnished as the others," was Elsie's comment on the library. "I seem to see the same hand everywhere."

      "Yes, and it is the same all over the house," replied her father. "The books here will delight you; for a private library it is a very fine one, containing many hundred volumes, as you may see at a glance; standard works on history, and the arts and sciences, biographies, travels, works of reference, the works of the best poets, novelists, etc."

      "Ah, how we will enjoy them while here! But it seems a sad pity they should have lain on those shelves unused for so many years."

      "Not entirely, my child; I have enjoyed them in my brief visits to the plantation, and have always allowed the overseer free access to them, on the single condition that they should be handled with care, and each returned promptly to its proper place when done with. But come, take this easy chair by this table; here are some fine engravings I want you to look at."

      Elsie obeyed, but had scarcely seated herself when the door was thrown open and a servant's voice announced, "Massa Spriggs, Massa Dinsmore and Miss Elsie."

      Spriggs, a tall, broad-shouldered, powerfully-built man, with dark hair and beard and a small, keen black eye, came forward with a bold free air and a "Good-even', miss, good-even', sir;" adding, as he helped himself to a seat without waiting for an invitation, "Well, here I am, and I s'pose you've somethin' to say or you wouldn't have appointed the meetin'."

      "Yes, Mr. Spriggs," said Elsie, folding her pretty hands in her lap and looking steadily and coldly into his brazen face, "I have this to say; that I entirely disapprove of flogging, and will have none of it on the estate. I hope you understand me."

      "That's plain English and easy understood, Miss Dinsmore, and Dinsmore, and of course you have a right to dictate in the matter; but I tell you what, these darkies o' yours are a dreadful lazy set, specially that Suse; and it's mighty hard for folks that's been used to seein' things done up spick and span and smart to put up with it."

      "But some amount of patience with the natural slowness of the negro is a necessary trait in the character of an overseer who wishes to remain in my employ."

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