Doctor Bates came two days later and I saw him at breakfast as I stood behind my Young Master's chair. I was surprised to see that the years had touched him so lightly. Indeed, he appeared but little older than at the time I had thrown the glass tumbler at his head. And this set me to a study of all the faces about me. How slowly they had aged while Young Master and I had grown so fast! The doctor was dressed beyond any former mood of neatness, blue broad-cloth coat and ruffled shirt; and Miss May was beautiful in a long, beflowered gown. There had been a heavy frost, and a low, cheer-giving roar came from the logs in the great fire-place. Outside the negroes were singing and dancing in the crisp air. The looms and the spinning wheels were hushed; it was a time for music, for feasting, for jollification—a whole week of "colored freedom." The talk at the table was full of jest, for in the midst of the company was a great bowl of egg-nog. And even the steely eyes of my old mistress snapped with pleasant mischief.  
[Pg 67]
 
"Doctor," she said, "Dan has become quite a student, and he writes Latin love-letters for black Steve."
 
"In Latin to show that Steve is dead in love!" the doctor roared, shaking his ruffled shirt with his mirth. "But I should think," he added, "that a woman who could love him must be color-blind."
 
"Or still worse, blind to all sentiment," suggested Young Master.
 
"Or left alone by all lovers," Miss May declared.
 
"But," said Old Master, "being so ill-favored he may be faithful."
 
"The ugly are not truer than the beautiful," Miss May spoke up.
 
The doctor bowed to her. "I am glad that you assert your own fidelity," he said, and Young Master looked up at me. Miss May blushed, and Old Mistress said: "Daughter, that was a charming compliment, quite worthy of a Southern gentleman."
 
"And accepted by a Southern lady—with blushes," spoke my young master, and I felt a strong impulse to grasp his hand.
 
"Ah, Bob," said the doctor, "you are improving. You give real evidences of a thoughtful mind, and I have no doubt that you will make a great lawyer." Here he looked at Old Mistress.
 
[Pg 68]
 
"Yes, lawyer," she replied, "for I have given up the hope of his becoming a minister. He does not take to the church."
 
"Except to get out of a shower of rain," Bob spoke up, and his mother's gray eyes stared at him in reproof: "Why, Robert, I am astonished at you." Old Master put by his egg-nog cup, tittering down in his stock collar, and Old Miss turned upon him.
 
"Such encouragement on such a day!" she said.
 
"Upon days of merriment it is meet that we should laugh," Old Master replied.
 
"And not bread that we should be sad," said Bob.
 
At this Miss May laughed a stream of music, clear and rippling; but Old Miss rebuked both Bob and his sister by declaring that it was easy enough to make a wise remark appear foolish. Old Master had begun to laugh at everything, for up to the great yellow bowl in the center of the table his cup had been passed many times. His face glowed with good humor and he joked with the doctor. "Really glad to see you back again, George," the old man said, blinking a newly-felt welcome. "We never know how much we think of a fellow until he's gone. By the Lord—"
 
"Why, General," Old Mistress cried in surprise.
 
He looked at her. "Why, what did I say? Said I[Pg 69] was glad to see him, didn't I, and I am. You know it, Hanna, as well as I do. Said I was glad to see him, and you don't seem to believe it. Dan, see that a hogshead of egg-nog is served to the negroes."
 
"Oh, not that much!" Old Miss protested.
 
"Hanna, I said a hogshead," he persisted, blinking at her, "and I can't forfeit my word. Go out there, Dan, and tell them that they are to have a hogshead."
 
That night, after a day of feast and an evening of good-natured riot, Bob and I sat in our room, he listening, and I reading aloud "The Count of Monte Cristo." During the day and the evening, amid the gaiety of the negro quarter, my young master had laughed with as loud a haw-haw as the lustiest buck on the plantation, but I had seen that at times his face was sad; had heard a melancholy note sounding under the jig tune of his revelry.
 
The hour was late, the fire was growing gray. I put the book aside and raked the chunks together. "We have drunk the warm light and now we'll drink the cooling dregs," he said. And looking at him I replied:
 
"You are a boy but sometimes you talk like an old man."
 
"And act like a fool," was his ............