For in 1860
the people of South Carolina believed they were quite right in buying
negroes for slaves, and in selling them when they desired; so these
little girls, some of whom already "owned" a colored girl who waited
upon them, had no idea but what slavery was a right and natural
condition, and were amused at Elinor's words.
"Why do you want to be so hateful, Elinor?" demanded Grace, before
Sylvia could reply. "Sylvia has not said or done anything to make you
talk to her this way," and Grace linked her arm in Sylvia's, and stood
facing the other girls.
"Well, Grace Waite, you can associate with Yankees if you wish to. But
my mother says that Miss Patten ought not to have Sylvia Fulton in her
school. Come on, girls; Grace Waite can do as she pleases," and Elinor,
followed by two or three of the older girls, went scornfully down the
street.
"Sylvia! Wait!" and a little girl about Sylvia's age came running down
the path. It was Flora Hayes; and, next to Grace Waite, Sylvia liked her
the best of any of her new companions.
"Don't mind what Elinor Mayhew says. She's always horrid when she dares
to be," said Flora.
Flora's father was a wealthy cotton planter, and their Charleston home
was in one of the historic mansions of that city. Beside that there was
the big old house on the Ashley River ten miles from the city, where the
family stayed a part of the time.
Flora's eyes were as blue as Sylvia's, and her hair was very much the
same color.
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