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As
the
laggard
,
or
late
riser
,
may
have
to
put
up
with
cold
biscuit
,
and
no
waffles
or
buckwheat
cakes
,
there
are
few
such
on
a
Southern
plantation
.
Considering
this
custom
,
it
was
somewhat
strange
,
that
Henry
Poindexter
had
not
yet
put
in
an
appearance
.
"
Where
can
the
boy
be
?
"
asked
his
father
,
for
the
fourth
time
,
in
that
tone
of
mild
conjecture
that
scarce
calls
for
reply
.
None
was
made
by
either
of
the
other
two
guests
at
the
table
.
Louise
only
gave
expression
to
a
similar
conjecture
.
For
all
that
,
there
was
a
strangeness
in
her
glance
--
as
in
the
tone
of
her
voice
--
that
might
have
been
observed
by
one
closely
scrutinising
her
features
.
It
could
scarce
be
caused
by
the
absence
of
her
brother
from
the
breakfast-table
?
The
circumstance
was
too
trifling
to
call
up
an
emotion
;
and
clearly
at
that
moment
was
she
subject
to
one
.
What
was
it
?
No
one
put
the
inquiry
.
Her
father
did
not
notice
anything
odd
in
her
look
.
Much
less
Calhoun
,
who
was
himself
markedly
labouring
to
conceal
some
disagreeable
thought
under
the
guise
of
an
assumed
naïvété
.
Ever
since
entering
the
room
he
had
maintained
a
studied
silence
;
keeping
his
eyes
averted
,
instead
of
,
according
to
his
usual
custom
,
constantly
straying
towards
his
cousin
.
He
sate
nervously
in
his
chair
;
and
once
or
twice
might
have
been
seen
to
start
,
as
a
servant
entered
the
room
.
Beyond
doubt
he
was
under
the
influence
of
some
extraordinary
agitation
.
"
Very
strange
Henry
not
being
here
to
his
breakfast
!
"
remarked
the
planter
,
for
about
the
tenth
time
.
