when the afternoon session opened elinor mayhew was not in her usual place. grace and flora had been told by the other girls what had happened on the day of sylvia's disappearance from school. may bailey had declared that sylvia must have "run straight to the teacher," and that she was a telltale as well as a "yankee." grace had defended her friend warmly.

"i don't know how miss rosalie found out, but i'm sure sylvia did not tell," she declared.

flora was unusually quiet. there were many scornful looks sent in sylvia's direction that afternoon, which miss patten noticed and easily understood. before school was dismissed she said that she had a brief announcement to make.

"i want to say to you that the pupil whom elinor treated with such a lack of courtesy did not inform me of the fact. nor would she say one word against any of her schoolmates when i questioned her. someone who overheard elinor's unfriendly remarks came and told me."

flora hayes smiled and drew a long breath. she did not blame sylvia for being a "yankee," but it had troubled her to think of her new friend as a "telltale," whatever her provocation might have been. the other girls began to look at sylvia with more friendly eyes, and as they ran down the steps several found a chance to nod and smile at her, or to exchange some word. so sylvia began to feel that her troubles were over, if elinor mayhew did not return to school.

"father, are you sure 'yankee' doesn't mean anything beside

'american'?" she asked in a very serious tone, as she sat beside mr.

fulton on the piazza that evening. they were quite alone, as mrs.

fulton had stepped to the kitchen to speak to aunt connie.

"the girls at school all think it means something dreadful," she added.

"let me see, sylvia. you study history, don't you?" responded her father slowly. "of course you do; and you know that george washington and general putnam and general warren, and many more brave men, defended this country and its liberty?"

"why, yes," replied sylvia, greatly puzzled.

"the men of south carolina were among the bravest and most loyal of the defenders of our liberties. and when america's enemies called american men 'yankees' they meant general washington and every other american who was ready to defend the united states of america. so if any of your friends use the word 'yankee' scornfully they agree with the enemies of the union. no one need be ashamed of being called a 'yankee.' it means someone who is ready to fight for what is right."

but sylvia still wondered. "the girls don't think so," she said.

"well, that is because they don't understand. they will know when they are older," said mr. fulton. he did not imagine that any of the companions of his little daughter had treated her in an unfriendly fashion, and thought it a good opportunity to make her understand the real meaning of the word.

"you are a yankee girl. and that means you must always try to protect other people who need protection," said her father.

sylvia's face brightened. she could easily understand that. it meant that she must not let estralla get a whipping when she had not deserved it; and she was glad she had not told the real story of the broken pitcher. she resolved always to remember what her father had said.

the remainder of the week passed pleasantly. elinor mayhew did not return to school, and the other girls profited by her example and no longer teased or taunted the little northern girl.

saturday morning proved to be perfect weather for the drive to the hayes plantation. the sun shone, the clear october air was full of autumnal fragrance, and when the hayes carry-all, drawn by two pretty brown horses, and driven by black chris, the hayes coachman, and flora's black mammy on the seat beside him, stopped in front of sylvia's house and flora came running up the path, sylvia and grace were on the steps all ready to start.

there was plenty of room for all three girls on the back seat, and flora declared that sylvia should sit between grace and herself. mrs. fulton and estralla stood at the gate and watched the happy little party drive off. estralla looked very sober. ever since the adventure at fort sumter the little colored girl had felt that she must look after missy sylvia carefully. and she was not well pleased to see her young mistress disappear from her watchful eyes.

"what a funny name 'estralla' is," laughed flora, as sylvia called back a good-bye.

"oh, that isn't her name, really," explained grace. "you know my uncle

robert owns her, and auntie connie named her after aunt esther and

cousin alice. her name is really esther alice. but the colored people

never speak as we do."

"how can anybody 'own' anybody else, even if their skin is black?" asked sylvia.

both her companions looked at her in such evident surprise that sylvia was sure she ought not to have asked such a question. suddenly she remembered that flora's "mammy" and "uncle chris," as flora called him, were negroes, and of course must have heard. she resolved not to ask another question during her visit.

their way took them through pleasant streets shaded by spice trees and an occasional oak. from behind high walls came the fragrance of orange blossoms, ripening pomegranates and grapes. very soon they had crossed the ashley river, and now the road ran between broad fields of cotton where negroes were already at work gathering the white fluffy crop which would be packed in bags and bales and shipped to many far distant ports.

the three little friends talked gaily of the pleasant visit which had just begun. sylvia was hoping that flora would again speak of the promised ride on one of the white ponies, but not until uncle chris guided the swift horses into the driveway, shaded by fine live-oaks, which led to the big house, was her wish gratified.

"we'll have a ride this afternoon, girls, if you are not too tired," she said.

grace and sylvia promptly declared that they were not at all tired, and that a ride was just what they would like best.

the plantation's "big house," as the negroes called the owner's home, was the largest house sylvia had ever entered. its high piazza with the tall pillars was covered by a tangle of jessamine vines and climbing roses. the front hall led straight through the house to another piazza, which looked out over beautiful gardens and a tiny lake. behind a thick hedge of privet were the cabins of the house servants. the negroes who did the work on the plantation, caring for the horses and cows, and working in the cotton fields, lived at some distance from the "big" house.

mrs. hayes came out on the piazza to welcome the party. she had come down from charleston on the previous day. it seemed to sylvia she had never seen so many negroes before in all her life. neat colored maids were flitting about the house, colored men were at work in the garden, and colored children peered smilingly around the corner of the house.

a colored maid was told to look after grace and sylvia, and she led the way up the beautiful spiral staircase to a pleasant chamber overlooking the garden. there were two small white beds, with a little mahogany light-stand between them. on this stand stood a tall brass candlestick. there were two dressing-tables, and two small bureaus, and a number of comfortable chintz-covered chairs. the floor was of dark, shining wood, and beside each bed was a long, soft white rug.

sylvia and grace knew that this room had been arranged especially for any of flora's young friends whom she might entertain, and they both thought it was one of the nicest rooms that anyone could imagine. the smiling colored maid brushed their hair, helped them into the fresh muslin dresses they had each brought, and when they were ready opened the door and followed them down the stairs where they found flora awaiting them.

"luncheon is all ready," she said, and led the way into the dining-room, where mrs. hayes and flora's two older brothers, ralph and philip, were waiting for them. the boys were tall, good-looking lads, and as they were in the uniform of the military school of charleston, of which they were pupils, sylvia thought they must be quite grown up, although ralph was only sixteen and his brother two years younger. they had ridden out on horseback from charleston, and had just arrived.

flora introduced them to sylvia, and grace greeted them as old acquaintances.

"i suppose you girls are looking forward to the corn-shucking to-night?" ralph asked, with his pleasant smile, as he held sylvia's chair for her to take her seat at the table, while philip performed the same service for grace.

"oh, my dear boy! you have betrayed flora's surprise," said mrs. hayes.

"she had planned not to let the girls know about it until nightfall."

"what is a 'corn-shucking'?" questioned sylvia; for she had always lived in a city and did not know much about farm or plantation affairs.

"shall i tell her, flora?" questioned ralph, laughingly.

"no! no, indeed! wait, sylvia, then it will be a surprise after all," responded flora.

sylvia smiled happily. she was sure that this visit was going to be even more delightful than when she had been flora's guest in the early spring. there seemed to be so many things to do on a plantation, she thought.

the young people were all hungry, and enjoyed the roasted duck, with the sweet-potatoes and the grape jelly. beside these there were hot biscuit and delicious custards. sylvia had finished her custard when two maids brought a large tray into the room, and in a moment the little girls exclaimed in admiring delight; for the tray contained two doves, made of blanc-mange, resting in a nest of fine, gold-colored shreds of candied orange-peel, and an iced cake in the shape of a fort, with the palmetto flag on a tiny staff.

at the sight of their state flag both the boys arose from their seats and saluted.

"that's the flag to fly over charleston's forts!" declared ralph as he sat down.

after luncheon was over mrs. hayes advised the girls to lie down for a little rest before starting for their ride. but they all declared they were not tired, and there were so many things to see and enjoy at the plantation that sylvia and grace were delighted when flora suggested that first of all they should go out through the garden to the negro quarters, stopping at the stables on their way for a look at the ponies.

sylvia was ready before the other girls and stood on the piazza waiting. she was leaning against one of the vine-covered pillars that supported the piazza, and ralph and philip, who were sitting just around the corner, did not know she was there and could not see her. sylvia could hear their voices, but did not at first notice what they were saying until the word "yankee" caught her ear.

"the first thing you know those northern yankees will take our forts," she heard philip say, and heard ralph laugh scornfully as he responed: "they can't do it, or free our slaves, either. say, did you know father was going to sell dinkie; she's making such a fuss that i reckon she'll get a lashing; says she don't want to leave her children."

there was a little silence, and then the younger boy spoke.

"i wish they wouldn't sell dinkie. i hate to have her go. it isn't fair. of course she feels bad to leave those little darkies of hers. jove!" and the boy's voice had an angry tone, "dinkie shan't be whipped! i won't have it. she used to be my mammy."

suddenly sylvia realized that she was listening, and ran down the steps toward the little lake which lay glimmering in the sun beneath the shade of the overhanging pepper trees. she ran on past the lake down a little path which led toward the pine woods. she no longer felt happy, and full of anticipations of the surprise in store at the corn-shucking. all she could think of was "dinkie," a woman who was to be sold away from her children, and who was to be whipped because she rebelled against the cruelty of her master.

"it's because she's a slave," sylvia whispered to herself. "i hate slavery. my father said yankees always fought for what was right. why don't they fight against slavery?" she quite forgot that flora and grace would wonder where she had gone, and be alarmed at her absence.

"i do wish i could see dinkie," she thought. "i wish i could do something to help set every slave free." then she remembered that philip had declared that dinkie should neither be sold nor whipped.

"i like philip," she declared aloud, and was surprised to hear a little chuckling laugh from somewhere behind her, and turned quickly to find a smiling negro woman close behind her.

"i likes massa philip myse'f," declared the woman, "an' i wishes i could see him jus' a minute," and her smile disappeared. "i'se shuah massa philip won' let 'em sell dinkie, or lash her either," and putting her apron over her face the woman began to cry.

"he won't! i heard him say he wouldn't have it," sylvia assured her eagerly. "don't cry, dinkie," and she patted the woman's arm.

dinkie let her apron fall and looked eagerly at sylvia.

"you'se the little yankee missy, ain't you?" she questioned. "i hear say that yankees don't believe in selling black folks."

"they don't; i'm sure they don't. i'll run right back and tell philip you want to see him," replied sylvia. "you stay right here by this tree," she added, pointing to a big live-oak.

"yas, missy, i thanks you," replied the woman.

sylvia ran back toward the house as fast as she could go. she could see the ponies standing before the house, a small negro boy holding their bridle-reins. the girls were on the steps waiting for her.

"i mustn't let them know that dinkie wants to see philip," she thought, as the girls called out that they had been looking everywhere for her. at that moment the two boys came along the piazza.

"philip is going to teach you how to mount, and how to hold your reins,

sylvia," said flora.

grace and sylvia were to ride the white ponies, and flora was to ride a small brown horse which her mother usually rode.

philip came slowly down the steps. he looked very sober, and sylvia was sure that he was thinking about dinkie. "i don't believe he thinks slavery is right," she thought, as philip raised his cap, and asked if she was ready to mount "snap," the pony which she was to ride.

flora and grace were already mounted, and trotted slowly off. sylvia and philip were alone on the driveway.

"dinkie wants to see you. she's waiting down by the oak, beyond the lake," said sylvia. "and don't let her be whipped," she added.

the boy looked up at her quickly.

"don't tell the girls that she sent for me," he replied. "dinkie shan't be whipped, or sold either." he did not thank sylvia for her message, and she was glad that he did not. with a brief word of direction as to the proper manner of holding the reins, he turned toward the lake, and sylvia's pony trotted slowly down the drive to where flora and grace were waiting.

flora led the way past the stables, and down a broad path which led to the negro quarters. the ponies went at a slow pace, as flora wanted to be sure that sylvia was not afraid, and that she was enjoying her first ride.

"the corn-shucking will be here," she said, pointing with her pretty gold-mounted whip to a number of corn-cribs. "they will bring the corn in from the fields, and we will come down in good season."

"and the moon will be full to-night," said grace, beginning to sing:

"'de jay-bird hunt de sparrer-nes',

all by de light of de moon.

de bee-martin sail all 'roun',

all by de light of de moon.

de squirrel he holler from de top of de tree;

mr. mole he stay in de groun',

oh, yes! mr. mole he stay in de groun'—'"

sylvia listened and smiled as she looked at the happy faces of her friends. but she could not forget dinkie, and wondered if philip could really protect the unhappy woman from a whipping, and prevent her being sold away from her children.

as they passed the cabins of the negroes the children ran out bobbing and smiling to their young mistress, and flora called out a friendly greeting.

"father's going to sell a lot of those niggers," she said carelessly.

"they eat more than they're worth."

"but won't their mothers feel dreadfully to let them go?" ventured sylvia. "of course they will," declared grace, before flora could respond. "and i do think it's a shame. did you know uncle robert is going to sell estralla?" she asked turning to sylvia.

sylvia's grasp on the reins loosened, and she nearly lost her seat on the broad back of the fat pony.

"what for?" she questioned, thinking to herself that estralla should not be sold away from her home and mother if she, sylvia, could prevent it.

"oh, uncle's agent says she isn't of any use, and he can get a good price for her. he would have sold her last month if your mother had not taken her in. i expect aunt connie will be half crazy, for all her other children are gone," said grace.

"we mustn't ride too far this time," flora interrupted, "because it's sylvia's first ride. hasn't she done well? do you suppose you can turn the pony?"

"yes, indeed," answered sylvia, drawing the left rein so tightly that the little pony swung round before flora had time to give a word of direction. as they were now headed toward home "snap" went off at a good pace, well in advance of the others. it was all sylvia could do to keep her seat, but she was not frightened, and when the pony raced up the driveway and came to a standstill directly in front of the piazza steps she was laughing with delight. for the moment she had quite forgotten dinkie and estralla.