mind," she said hurriedly, dropping into her Southern speech; "I didn't
go to hurt you, but I was just that mad with the thought of those
pickaninnies, and the easy way you took it, that I clean forgot I'd no
call to catechise you! And you don't know me from the Queen of Sheba.
Well," she went on, still more rapidly, and in odd distinction to her
previous formal slow Southern delivery, "I'm the daughter of Colonel
Boutelle, of Bayou Sara, Louisiana; and his paw, and his paw before him,
had a plantation there since the time of Adam, but he lost it and six
hundred niggers during the Wah! We were pooh as pohverty--paw and maw
and we four girls--and no more idea of work than a baby. But I had
an education at the convent at New Orleans, and could play, and speak
French, and I got a place as school-teacher here; I reckon the first
Southern woman that has taught school in the No'th! Ricketts, who used
to be our steward at Bayou Sara, told me about the pickaninnies, and how
helpless they were, with only a brother who occasionally sent them money
from California. I suppose I cottoned to the pooh little things at first
because I knew what it was to be alone amongst strangers, Mr. Lasham; I
used to teach them at odd times, and look after them, and go with them
to the train to look for you. Perhaps Ricketts made me think you didn't
care for them; perhaps I was wrong in thinking it was true, from the way
you met Jimmy just now. But I've spoken my mind and you know why." She
ceased and walked to the window.

Falloner rose. The storm that had swept through him was over. The quick
determination, resolute purpose, and infinite patience which had made
him what he was were all there, and with it a conscientiousness which
his selfish independence had hitherto kept dormant. He accepted the
situation, not passively--it was not in his nature--but threw himself
into it with all his energy.