Silence drew them all back to earth. But behind the players, an old man's face was bent upon the smooth soft hand of the woman, and eyes that must some day see for both of them, left their tender tribute.
Edward Morgan linked himself to others in that hour with strands stronger than steel. Even the little Duchess felt the charm and power of that violin in the hands of the artist. Wondering, she came to him and stretched up her little hands. He took her upon his knee then, and, holding the instrument under her chin and her hands in his, awoke a little lullaby that had impressed him. As he sang the words, the girl smiled into the faces of the company.
"Look, gamma," she said gleefully; "look!" And she, lifting her face, said gently:
"Yes, dear; gamma is looking." Mary's face was quickly averted; the hands of the colonel tightened upon the hand he held.
The Duchess had learned to sing "Rockaby Baby" and now she lifted her thin, piping voice, the player readily following, and sang sweetly all the verses she could remember. Mary took her in her arms when tired, and Edward let the strains run on slower and softer. The eyes of the little one drooped wearily, and then as the player, his gaze fixed upon the little scene, drifted away into "Home, Sweet Home," they closed in sleep. The blind woman still sat with her hand in her husband's, his head bent forward until his forehead rested upon it.
Mary had lighted his room and handed him the lamp; "sweet sleep and pleasant dreams," she had said, gravely bowing to him as she withdrew--a family custom, as he had afterward learned. But the sleep was not sweet nor the dreams pleasant. Excited and disturbed he dozed away the hours and was glad when the plantation bell rang its early summons. He dressed and made his way to the veranda, whence he wandered over the flower garden, intercepting the colonel, who was about to take his morning look about. Courteously leaving his horse at the gate that gentleman went on foot with him. It was Edward's first experience on a plantation and he viewed with lively interest the beginning of the day's labor. Cotton was opening and numbers of negroes, old and young, were assembling with baskets and sacks or moving out with a show of industry, for, as it was explained to him, it is easy to get them early started in cotton-picking time, as the work is done by the hundred pounds and the morning dew counts for a great deal. "Many people deduct for that," said Montjoy, "but I prefer not to. Lazy and trifling as he is, the negro is but poorly paid."