"You remember my speaking to you of Dumont?" he said hesitatingly, "Miss
Dows' French cousin, you know? Well--he's coming here: he's got property
here--those three houses opposite the Court House. From what I hear,
he's come over with a lot of new-fangled French ideas on the nigger
question--rot about equality and fraternity, don't you know--and the
highest education and highest offices for them. You know what the
feeling is here already? You know what happened at the last election at
Coolidgeville--how the whites wouldn't let the niggers go to the polls
and the jolly row that was kicked up over it? Well, it looks as if that
sort of thing might happen HERE, don't you know, if Miss Dows takes up
these ideas."

"But I've reason to suppose--I mean," said Courtland correcting himself
with some deliberation, "that any one who knows Miss Dows' opinions
knows that these are not her views. Why should she take them up?"

"Because she takes HIM up," returned Champney hurriedly; "and even
if she didn't believe in them herself, she'd have to share the
responsibility with him in the eyes of every unreconstructed rowdy like
Tom Higbee and the rest of them. They'd make short work of her niggers
all the same."

"But I don't see why she should be made responsible for the opinions of
her cousin, nor do I exactly knew what 'taking him up' means," returned
Courtland quietly.

Champney moistened his dry lips with the julep and uttered a nervous
laugh. "Suppose we say her husband--for that's what his coming back here
means. Everybody knows that; you would, too, if you ever talked with her
about anything but business."