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Updated: June 9, 2025
Before her stood this tall black girl, quietly returning her look. Mrs. Vanderpool had a most uncomfortable sense of being judged, of being weighed, and there arose within her an impulse to self-justification. She smiled and said sweetly, "Won't you sit?"
Mr. Easterly sat in Mrs. Vanderpool's apartments in the New Willard, Washington, drinking tea. His hostess was saying rather carelessly: "Do you know, Mr. Vanderpool has developed a quite unaccountable liking for the idea of being Ambassador to France?" "Dear me!" mildly exclaimed Mr. Easterly, helping himself liberally to cakes. "I do hope the thing can be managed, but "
Three other selected couples danced at the same time, though taking care not to come between the star and the grinding camera. The older man leered at the star and nervously lighted a gold-tipped cigarette which he immediately discarded after one savage bite at it. It could be seen that Vera Vanderpool was the gayest of all that gay throng.
The Colonel affected to hesitate, but next morning the Silver Fleece went to town. Zora watched it go, and her heart swelled and died within her. She walked to town, to the station. She did not see Mrs. Vanderpool arriving from New Orleans; but Mrs. Vanderpool saw her, and looked curiously at the tall, tragic figure that leaned so dolorously beside the freight car.
The darkies say we've deserted them." Mrs. Vanderpool laughed. "What extraordinary penetration," she cried. "At any rate," said Mr. Easterly, drily, "Mr. Vanderpool's first step toward Paris lies in getting the Northern Negroes to vote the Republican ticket. After that the way is clear." Mrs. Vanderpool mused.
They joined the others, and all were turning toward the carriage when a figure coming down the road attracted them. "Quite picturesque," observed Mrs. Vanderpool, looking at the tall, slim girl swaying toward them with a piled basket of white cotton poised lightly on her head. "Why," in abrupt recognition, "it is our Venus of the Roadside, is it not?" Mary saw it was Zora.
Long and low they talked, far into the soft Southern night; sitting shaded beneath the stars, while nearby blinked the drowsy lights of the girls' dormitory. At last Miss Smith said, rising stiffly: "I forgot to ask about Mrs. Vanderpool. How is she, and where?" Zora murmured some answer; but as she went to bed in her little white room she sat wondering sadly. Where was the poor spoiled woman?
She walked on worlds, and worlds of worlds, and heard there in her little room the tread of armies, the paeans of victory, the breaking of hearts, and the music of the spheres. Mrs. Vanderpool watched her a while. "Zora," she presently broke into the girl's absorption, "how would you like to be Ambassador to France?" Twenty-four
Vanderpool to use her influence in making Alwyn bow to the yoke. She fenced for time. "But I do not know Mr. Alwyn." "I thought you did; you recommended him highly." "I knew of him slightly in the South and I have watched his career here." "It would be too bad to have that career spoiled now." "But is it necessary? Suppose he should defend the Education Bill."
I cannot stay here." Mrs. Vanderpool arose and walked over to her. She stood above her, in her silken morning-gown, her brown and gray sprinkled hair rising above the pale, strong-lined face. "Zora," she faltered, "will you leave me?" Zora answered, "Yes." It was a soft "yes," a "yes" full of pity and regret, but a "yes" that Mrs. Vanderpool knew in her soul to be final.
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