"I was afraid you'd be gone somewhere. Sit down--here, between
the colonel and me," said Murrell.

"Well, what the devil do you want of me anyhow?" demanded the
planter.

"How's your sister, Tom?" inquired Murrell.

"I reckon she's the way you'd expect her to be." Ware dropped
his voice to a whisper. Those women were just the other side of
the logs, he could hear them at their work.

"Who's at Belle Plain now?" continued Murrell.

"Bowen's wife and daughter have stayed," answered Ware, still in
a whisper.

"For how long, Tom? Do you know?"

"They were to go home after breakfast this morning; the
daughter's to come out again to-morrow and stay with Betty until
she leaves."

"What's that you're saying?" cried Murrell.

"She's going back to North Carolina to those friends of hers;
it's no concern of mine, she does what she likes without
consulting me." There was a brief pause during which Murrell
scowled at the planter.