Old Mr. Delamere's servant, Sandy Campbell, was in deep trouble.  
A party of Northern visitors had been staying for several days at the St. James Hotel. The gentlemen of the party were concerned in a projected cotton mill, while the ladies were much interested in the study of social conditions, and especially in the negro problem. As soon as their desire for information became known, they were taken courteously¹ under the wing of prominent citizens and their wives, who gave them, at elaborate luncheons³, the Southern white man's views of the negro, sighing sentimentally⁴ over the disappearance⁵ of the good old negro of before the war, and gravely deploring⁶ the degeneracy of his descendants. They enlarged upon the amount of money the Southern whites had spent for the education of the negro, and shook their heads over the inadequate⁷ results accruing⁸ from this unexampled generosity⁹. It was sad, they said, to witness this spectacle of a dying race, unable to withstand the competition of a superior type. The severe reprisals¹⁰ taken by white people for certain crimes committed by negroes were of course not the acts of the best people, who deplored¹¹ them; but still a certain charity should be extended towards those who in the intense and righteous anger of the moment should take the law into their own hands and deal out rough but still substantial justice; for no negro was ever lynched without incontestable proof of his guilt¹². In order to be perfectly¹³ fair, and give their visitors an opportunity to see both sides of the question, they accompanied the Northern visitors to a colored church where they might hear a colored preacher, who had won a jocular popularity throughout the whole country by an oft-repeated sermon intended to demonstrate that the earth was flat like a pancake. This celebrated¹⁴ divine could always draw a white audience, except on the days when his no less distinguished¹⁵ white rival in the field of sensationalism preached his equally famous sermon to prove that hell was exactly one half mile, linear measure, from the city limits of Wellington. Whether accidentally or not, the Northern visitors had no opportunity to meet or talk alone with any colored person in the city except the servants at the hotel. When one of the party suggested a visit to the colored mission school, a Southern friend kindly¹⁶ volunteered to accompany them.
 
The visitors were naturally much impressed by what they learned from their courteous² hosts, and felt inclined to sympathize with the Southern people, for the negro is not counted as a Southerner, except to fix the basis of congressional representation. There might of course be things to criticise¹⁷ here and there, certain customs for which they did not exactly see the necessity, and which seemed in conflict with the highest ideals of liberty but surely these courteous, soft-spoken ladies and gentlemen, entirely¹⁸ familiar with local conditions, who descanted so earnestly and at times pathetically upon the grave problems confronting them, must know more about it than people in the distant North, without their means of information. The negroes who waited on them at the hotel seemed happy enough, and the teachers whom they had met at the mission school had been well-dressed, well-mannered, and apparently¹⁹ content with their position in life. Surely a people who made no complaints could not be very much oppressed.
 
In order to give the visitors, ere they left Wellington, a pleasing impression of Southern customs, and particularly of the joyous²⁰, happy-go-lucky disposition²¹ of the Southern darky and his entire contentment with existing conditions, it was decided²² by the hotel management to treat them, on the last night of their visit, to a little diversion, in the shape of a genuine negro cakewalk.
 
On the afternoon of this same day Tom Delamere strolled into the hotel, and soon gravitated to the bar, where he was a frequent visitor. Young men of leisure spent much of their time around the hotel, and no small part of it in the bar. Delamere had been to the club, but had avoided the card-room. Time hanging heavy on his hands, he had sought the hotel in the hope that some form of distraction²³ might present itself.
 
"Have you heard the latest, Mr. Delamere?" asked the bartender, as he mixed a cocktail²⁴ for his customer.
 
"No, Billy; what is it?"
 
"There's to be a big cakewalk upstairs to-night. The No'the'n gentlemen an' ladies who are down here to see about the new cotton fact'ry want to study the nigger some more, and the boss has got up a cakewalk for 'em, 'mongst the waiters and chambermaids, with a little outside talent."
 
"Is it to be public?" asked Delamere.
 
"Oh, no, not generally, but friends of the house won't be barred out. The clerk 'll fix it for you. Ransom²⁵, the head waiter, will be floor manager."
 
Delamere was struck with a brilliant idea. The more he considered it, the brighter it seemed. Another cocktail imparted additional brilliancy to the conception. He had been trying, after a feeble fashion, to keep his promise to Clara, and was really suffering from lack of excitement.
 
He left the bar-room, found the head waiter, held with him a short conversation, and left in his intelligent and itching²⁶ palm a piece of money.
 
The cakewalk was a great success. The most brilliant performer was a late arrival, who made his appearance just as the performance was about to commence. The newcomer was dressed strikingly, the conspicuous²⁷ features of his attire²⁸ being a long blue coat with brass²⁹ buttons and a pair of plaid trousers. He was older, too, than the other participants, which made his agility³⁰ the more remarkable³¹. His partner was a new chambermaid, who had just come to town, and whom the head waiter introduced to the newcomer upon his arrival. The cake was awarded to this couple by a unanimous vote. The man presented it to his partner with a grandiloquent³² flourish, and returned thanks in a speech which sent the Northern visitors into spasms³³ of delight at the quaintness³⁴ of the darky dialect and the darky wit. To cap the climax³⁵, the winner danced a buck³⁶ dance with a skill and agility that brought a shower of complimentary³⁷ silver, which he gathered up and passed to the head waiter.
 
Ellis was off duty for the evening. Not having ventured to put in an appearance at Carteret's since his last rebuff, he found himself burdened with a superfluity of leisure, from which he essayed to find relief by dropping into the hotel office at about nine o'clock. He was invited up to see the cakewalk, which he rather enjoyed, for there was some

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