Cinder Path Tales

132 CINDER-PATH TALES on a very wild flight. I remember that I read the letter with the black border again and again, trying to picture to myself the one who wrote it. There were nine sen­ tences, andsix of them beginning with the " I," — evidently a woman of strong person­ ality. " I am desirous," " It is my wish," certainly indicatedone accustomed to have her inclinations respected. " He comes of a family renowned for strength and vigor, and should be able to surpass all competi­ tors," plainlyshowed a woman proud of her birth, and ambitious for success. A Vir­ ginian, a Fairfax. I made a mind picture of her as she wrote the letter, sittingin a cool and shaded room in one of those white- pillared, wide-halled mansions, built a cen­ tury ago among the oaks. She wasdressed in black, her figure tall and slender, her back straightand her head well poised. Her hair had a few threads of white in it, but a hint of color still showed in her cheeks, and the light had not yet gone out of her dark eyes. Her mouth I pictured a trifle thin-lipped and positive. At an old mahog­ any desk with big brass escutcheons she sat, the magnolias' heavy fragrance in the air, the song ofthe darkies soundingfaintly from the distant fields. This is the picture I made onthat November morning, andhow