"I am quite sure I couldn't."
"Then, Mr. Thorndyke, stop legislating for the negroes, because you know nothing about them."
"I admit," said Thorndyke, "that the patience and indulgence of Southerners toward negroes has always amazed and charmed me. But I believe the negro would be better off if he were made to assume greater responsibilities."
"Go to. Can the Ethiopian change his skin?"
Just then, Mr. James Brentwood Baldwin and Eleanor sauntered into the state-room of the car. They were to join a yachting party at Old Point Comfort. They spoke distantly and coolly to both Constance and Thorndyke—the memory of Senator Mince Pie Mulligan's candid praise of "ould Danny Hogan at th' corner grocery" was still a green and smarting wound in their breasts.
Mr. Baldwin's English valet and Eleanor's French maid were doing everything possible for the comfort of their master and mistress and with perfect intelligence. Thorndyke smilingly indicated it, but Constance shook her head.
"I am always hearing complaints about French and English servants in this country, but we who
