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 Introduction to
LINEAR PROGRAMMING
with MATLAB®
 Introduction to
LINEAR PROGRAMMING
with MATLAB®

Shashi Kant Mishra

Bhagwat Ram
MATLAB • is a trademark of The MathWorks, Inc. and is used with permission. The MathWorks does not warrant
the accuracy of the text or exercises in this book. This book’s use or discussion of MATLAB • software or related
products does not constitute endorsement or sponsorship by The MathWorks of a particular pedagogical approach
or particular use of the MATLAB • software.

CRC Press
Taylor & Francis Group
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Boca Raton, FL 33487-2742

© 2018 by Taylor & Francis Group, LLC

CRC Press is an imprint of Taylor & Francis Group, an Informa business

No claim to original U.S. Government works

Printed on acid-free paper

Version Date: 20170726

International Standard Book Number-13: 978-1-138-09226-6 (Hardback)

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Mishra, Shashi Kant, 1967- author. | Ram, Bhagwat, author.

Title: Introduction to linear programming with MATLAB / Shashi Kant Mishra
and Bhagwat Ram.
Description: Boca Raton : Taylor & Francis, CRC Press, 2018. | Includes
bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2017016988| ISBN 9781138092266 (hardback : acid-free paper)
| ISBN 9781315104003 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Linear programming--Data processing. | MATLAB.
Classification: LCC T57.74 .M57 2018 | DDC 519.7/2028553--dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017016988

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Contents

Foreword vii

Preface ix

List of Figures xi

List of Tables xiii

1 Introduction 1

1.1 History of Linear Programming . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

2 Vector Spaces and Matrices 5

2.1 Vector . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5
2.2 Matrix . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10
2.3 Linear Equations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10
2.4 Matrix Inversion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15
2.5 Exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19

3 MATLAB 21

3.1 Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
3.2 Basic Feature . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
3.3 Basic Operations in MATLAB . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22
3.4 Selection Statements and Loop Statements . . . . . . . . . . 31
3.5 User-Defined Function . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
3.6 MATLAB Functions Defined in This Book . . . . . . . . . . 38
3.7 Exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43

4 Introduction to Linear Programming 45

4.1 Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45
4.2 Simple Examples of Linear Programs . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45
4.3 Convex Sets . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49
4.4 Graphical Solution of Linear Programming Problem . . . . . 52
4.5 Exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66

v
vi Contents

5 The Simplex Method 69

5.1 Standard Form of Linear Programming Problem . . . . . . . 69

5.2 Basic Solutions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70
5.3 Properties of Basic Solutions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77
5.4 Simplex Algorithm . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84
5.5 Two-Phase Simplex Method . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 118
5.6 Exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133

6 The Revised Simplex Method 137

6.1 Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 137

6.2 Matrix Form of the Revised Simplex Method . . . . . . . . . 137
6.3 The Revised Simplex Algorithm . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 139
6.4 Exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 171

7 Duality 175

7.1 Dual Linear Programs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175

7.2 Properties of Dual Problems . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 178
7.3 The Dual Simplex Method . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 185
7.4 Exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 208

8 The Transportation Problem 213

8.1 Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 213

8.2 Balanced Transportation Problem . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 215
8.3 Northwest Corner Method . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 220
8.4 Least Cost Method . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 230
8.5 Vogel’s Approximation Method . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 239
8.6 Optimal Solution from BFS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 249
8.7 Exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 269

9 The Assignment Problem 273

9.1 Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 273

9.2 Hungarian Method . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 275
9.3 Exercises . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 300

Answer Key 305

Bibliography 309

Index 311
Foreword

Writing the foreword for this introductory textbook on linear pro-

gramming with MATLAB by Professors Shashi Kant Mishra and
Bhagwat Ram at Banaras Hindu University has brought me back
to the memory of the Fall Quarter, 1989, at Stanford University,
where the famous Professor George Dantzig was teaching the PhD
course, Linear Programming, in the Operations Research Depart-
ment. It was a four-unit course with a one-hour lab. One of the lab
projects was to develop codes for solving linear programming prob-
lems. At that time, most of my classmates handed in the codes in
Fortran or C++. I remembered that difficult time during the com-
piling stage, making debugs and correct Do-loops, data structures,
etc. using Fortran. Having gone through the project, I learned all
the details from theories to the programming parts in linear pro-
gramming. Later on, there was a period where some scholars were
developing convenient software over a spreadsheet environment
(like Solver in Excel) for students (especially MBAs) to simply
just input the data and hit the return to get sheets of the solu-
tion reports. Learning like this may treat the Simplex method as
a black box. This may be another extreme way to learn linear pro-
gramming.
Professors Mishra and Ram write this introductory textbook
in a clever way; with very light background in linear algebra and
MATLAB, the students will be brought to the theory parts quickly.
Friendly examples are given to illustrate the theory sections,
and MATLAB codes are provided to demonstrate the results.
MATLAB is useful here because of its interpreter feature, which
allows students to verify step-by-step in the simplex method with-
out the need of compiling the codes. The authors also provide
convenient “functions”, which are the main steps in the simplex
method. Students can simply call the functions to implement some
steps in the simplex methods. In this way, the Simplex method is

vii
viii Foreword

no longer a black box for our students. For the undergraduates,

the authors make a very nice trade-off among learning theories,
coding parts, and self-assessment of understanding the subject.
Linear programming has long been recognized with beautiful
theories as well as wide applications in the practical world. Using
MATLAB gives students the chance to “learn by doing”, one of
the effective learning strategies emphasized in our modern educa-
tion, in assessing themselves the level of understanding of the linear
programming subject. We strongly believe that students who learn
the linear programming with MATLAB will definitely understand
the subject much better in theories and practical applications.

Sy-Ming Guu
Professor,
Graduate Institute of Business and Management
Dean, College of Management,
Chang Gung University,
Taoyuan, Taiwan
Ph.D. in Operations Research,
Stanford University
Preface

George B. Dantzig formulated a linear programming problem and

developed the simplex method to solve it. This new mathematical
technique found a wide range of practical applications. This is an
introductory textbook on linear programming with MATLAB R ,
written mainly for students of mathematics, computer science, en-
gineering, economics, management science and agriculture. The
textbook is based on the lecture notes and experience of the first
author while teaching mathematics Bachelor of Science students
at the Banaras Hindu University, Varanasi, India for several years.
A large number of available textbooks have been a source of inspi-
ration for introduction of concepts and problems. We are thankful
to the authors of those books for their indirect help.
There are many textbooks on linear programming but very
few on linear programming with MATLAB. Moreover, among the
available textbooks on linear programming with MATLAB, there
is a lack of student-friendly textbooks. There was a desperate need
of a textbook on linear programming with MATLAB for the begin-
ner of such a course. The purpose of this textbook is to introduce
linear programming and use of MATLAB in the formulation, so-
lutions and interpretation of linear programming problems in a
natural way. The textbook has been written in a simple and lu-
cid language so that a beginner can learn the subject easily. A
prerequisite is a standard single-variable calculus and introduc-
tory linear algebra course. Although some background knowledge
of multivariable calculus and some experience with formal proof
writing are helpful, these are by no means essential.
The textbook has been organized in nine chapters. The first
three chapters are an introduction, background of linear algebra
needed in the sequel and basic knowledge on MATLAB. Chapter
4 is on simple examples of linear programming problems, concept
of convex sets and graphical solution of linear programming prob-

ix
x Preface

lems. Chapters 5 and 6 are on Simplex method with illustrative

examples that are solved manually and several examples are solved
using MATLAB. Chapter 7 is on duality results and dual simplex
method, and the last two chapters are on transportation and as-
signment problems with a sufficient number of examples. A good
number of suitable exercises is also given on each method and with
answers at the end of textbook. The textbook contains 80 solved
examples to illustrate various methods and applications, and out
of these, 42 examples are solved manually and 38 examples are
solved using MATLAB.
We have written 18 user-friendly functions which show the step-
by-step solution of linear programming problems. This will be an
effective concept to those learners who want to learn the program-
ming concept in linear programming.
We are thankful to Prof. Niclas Borlin, Department of Comput-
ing Science, Ume University, Sweden who permitted us to use his
MATLAB function: hungarian.m. We are also thankful to Senior
Acquisitions Editor of CRC, Mrs. Aastha Sharma, for guiding us
during the development of this book in LaTex.

Shashi Kant Mishra

Bhagwat Ram
Banaras Hindu University,
Varanasi, India

MATLAB R and Simulink R are registered trademarks of The

MathWorks, Inc. For product information, please contact: The
MathWorks, Inc., 3 Apple Hill Drive, Natick, MA 01760-
2098 USA; Tel: 508 647 7000; Fax: 508-647-7001, E-mail:
info@mathworks.com; Web: www.mathworks.com.
List of Figures

1.1 J. L. Lagrange (1736–1813) . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

1.2 Joseph B. Fourier (1768–1830) . . . . . . . . . . . 1
1.3 Mikhail Ostrogradsky (1801–1862) . . . . . . . . . 2
1.4 Julius Farkas (1847–1930) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2
1.5 Leonid Vitalievich Kantorovich (1912–1996) . . . 3
1.6 T. C. Koopmans (1910–1985) . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
1.7 George B. Dantzig (1914–2005) . . . . . . . . . . . 4
1.8 Cleve Barry Moler (August 17, 1939) . . . . . . . 4

4.1 Line segment PQ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49

4.2 Triangle ABC . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51
4.3 A convex set . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51
4.4 A nonconvex set . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51
4.5 Graphical solution of Example 4.6 . . . . . . . . . 53
4.6 Graphical solution of Example 4.6 in MATLAB . 54
4.7 Graphical solution of Example 4.7 . . . . . . . . . 55
4.8 Graphical solution of Example 4.7 in MATLAB . 56
4.9 Graphical solution of Example 4.8 . . . . . . . . . 57
4.10 Graphical solution of Example 4.8 in MATLAB . 58
4.11 Graphical solution of Example 4.9 in MATLAB . 59
4.12 Graphical solution of Example 4.10 . . . . . . . . 59
4.13 Graphical solution of Example 4.10 in MATLAB . 60
4.14 Graphical solution of Example 4.11 . . . . . . . . 61
4.15 Graphical solution of Example 4.11 in MATLAB . 61
4.16 Graphical solution of Example 4.12 in MATLAB . 62
4.17 Graphical solution of Example 4.13 in MATLAB . 63
4.18 Graphical solution of Example 4.14 . . . . . . . . 64
4.19 Graphical solution of Example 4.14 in MATLAB . 65

xi
List of Tables

3.1 Types of Specifiers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30

3.2 Numeric Display of Formats . . . . . . . . . . . . 31
3.3 Relational Operators . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32

4.1 Production Time . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47

4.2 Hotel Requirement . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48

xiii
Chapter 1
Introduction

1.1 History of Linear Programming

We are presenting a theory whose official
birth was at the heart of the twentieth century
and in fact in the years right after the Second
World War. However, all the readers are fa-
miliar with the method of Lagrange multipli-
ers from Calculus, named after Joseph Louis
Lagrange (1736–1813) who considered equal-
ity constrained minimization and maximiza-
tion problems in 1788, in the course of the FIGURE 1.1: J. L. La-
grange (1736–1813)
study of a stable equilibrium for a mechanical
system.
The famous French mathematician Joseph
B. Fourier (1768–1830) considered mechani-
cal systems subject to inequality constraints,
in 1798, though Fourier died before he could
raise any real interest of his new findings
to the mathematical community. Two stu-
dents of Fourier—the famous mathematician,
FIGURE 1.2: Joseph B.
Fourier (1768–1830) Navier, in 1825, and the equally famous math-
ematical economist, Cournot, in 1827, with-
out mentioning the work of Fourier—rediscovered the principle of
Fourier, giving the necessary conditions for equilibrium with ad
hoc argument which make specific reference to the mechanical in-
terpretation.
In 1838, the Russian mathematician Mikhail Ostrogradsky
(1801–1862) gave the same treatment in the more general terms.
He asserted without referring to Joseph B. Fourier, that at the min-

1
2 Introduction to LINEAR PROGRAMMING with MATLAB R

imizer the gradient of the objective function can be represented as

a linear combination, with nonnegative multipliers of the gradients
of the constraints.
It is worth noticing that Ostrogradsky was
a student in Paris before he went to St. Pe-
tersburg, and he attended the mathemati-
cal courses of Fourier, Poisson, Chauchy and
other famous French mathematicians.
The Hungarian theoretical physicist Julius
Farkas (1847–1930) focused on the mathemat- FIGURE 1.3: Mikhail Os-
ical foundation and developed a theory of ho- trogradsky (1801–1862)
mogeneous linear inequalities which was pub-
lished in 1901. However, the first effective acknowledgment of the
importance of the work of Farkas was given in the Masters thesis of
Motzkin in 1933. But, the Farkas Lemma has to wait almost half a
century to be applied. American mathematicians also started de-
veloping a theory for systems of linear inequalities followed by a
paper on “preferential voting” published in The American Math-
ematical Monthly in 1916.
Note that the theory of linear program-
ming did not just appear overnight. Lin-
ear programming depends on development of
other mathematical theories and mathemat-
ical tools, one of these is of course Convex
Analysis, which was not known well before.
The birth of the linear programming theory
took place in two different, equally developed
FIGURE 1.4: Julius Farkas countries: the USSR and USA, but the moti-
(1847–1930)
vating forces were also entirely different.
In the USSR, the father of linear programming is Leonid Vi-
talievich Kantorovich (1912–1996) and he is well known in the
mathematical community for his achievements in linear program-
ming, mathematical economics and functional analysis. He was
awarded the Nobel Prize in 1975 together with T. C. Koopmans
(1910–1985).
 Introduction 3

In the year 1939, Kantorovich was a young

professor at the Leningrad University. A state
firm that produced plywood and wished to
make more efficient use of its machines con-
tacted Kantorovich for a scientific advice. The
aim was to increase the production level of
five different types of plywood, carried out by
eight factories, each with different production FIGURE
talievich
1.5: Leonid Vi-
Kantorovich
capacity. Kantorovich soon realized that this (1912–1996)
problem has a mathematical structure.
In 1939, Kantorovich discussed and numerically solved the op-
timization problem under inequality constraints, in his small book,
which was translated to English in 1960. In this book, Kantorovich
presented several microeconomic problems from the production
planning of certain industries. But, till 1958, economists in the
USSR were not in favour to use the theory given by Kantorovich.
In 1960, at the Moscow Conference, economists discussed for the
first time the use of mathematical methods in economics and plan-
ning, and later in 1971 for optimal planning procedures.
The work of Kantorovich was available to
the rest of the world in 1960, when Tjalling
Carles Koopmans (1910–1985) published an
English translation of Kantorovich’s work in
1939.
Meanwhile, a similar line of research on in-
equality constrained optimization took place
in the USA independent of the work of the
FIGURE 1.6: T. C. Koop- Russians. During the Second World War from
mans (1910–1985)
1942 to 1944, Koopmans worked as a statis-
tician at the “Allied Shipping Adjustment Board” and was con-
cerned with some transportation models.
In the same period, George B. Dantzig (1914–2005), who is
recognized as the Western Father of Linear Programming, collab-
orated with the Pentagon as an expert of programming methods,
developed with the help of desk calculators. Dantzig finished his
studies and became a PhD in mathematics soon after the war
ended.
4 Introduction to LINEAR PROGRAMMING with MATLAB R

Job opportunities came from the Univer-

sity of California at Berkeley and from the
Pentagon. The simplex method discovered by
Dantzig to solve a linear programming prob-
lem was presented for the first time in the
summer of 1947. In June 1947, Dantzig in-
troduced the simplex algorithm to Koopmans
who took it to the community of economists FIGURE 1.7: George B.
Dantzig (1914–2005)
namely, K. J. Arrow, P. A. Samuelson, H. Si-
mon, R. Dorfman, L. Hurwiez and others, and the Simplex method
became quite a potential method. The Simplex algorithm has been
declared as one of the best 10 algorithms with the greatest influ-
ence on the development and practice of science and engineering
in the twentieth century.
Cleve Barry Moler, the chairman of the
Computer Science department at the Uni-
versity of New Mexico, started developing
MATLAB in the late 1970s. He designed it
to give his undergraduate students for access-
FIGURE 1.8: Cleve Barry ing LINPACK (Linear Algebra Subroutines
Moler (August 17, 1939) for Vector-Matrix operations) and EISPACK
(To compute eigenvalues and eigen vectors)
general purpose libraries of algoritms. It soon became popular to
other universities also and found a strong interest among the stu-
dents of applied mathematics. Jack Little and Steve Bangert at-
tracted with this new programming environment and rewrote sev-
eral developed MATLAB functions in C. Moler, Little and Bangert
founded the Mathworks, Inc., in 1984.
MATLAB was first adopted by researchers and practitioners in
control engineering, Little’s specialty, but quickly spread to many
other domains. It is now also used in education for learning and
teaching.
Chapter 2
Vector Spaces and Matrices

2.1 Vector
An n vector is a column array of n numbers, denoted as
a1
 
 a2 
a=  ...  .
 (2.1)
an

The number ai is called the ith component of the vector a. For
1
example, a =  2 is a column vector of size n = 3. Similarly, an
−3
n vector is a row vector of n numbers as
 
a = a1 a2 . . . an . (2.2)
 
For example, a = 1 2 −3 is a row vector of size n=3. We
denote R as the set of real numbers and Rn is the set of col-
umn or row n-vectors with real components. We can say Rn as
n-dimensional real vector space. We can denote the vectors by
lowercase letters such as a, b, c, etc. The components of a ∈ Rn
are denoted as a1 , a2 , . . . , an .
The transpose (denoted as T ) of a given column vector (2.1) is a
row vector (2.2). Therefore, we can write
 T
a1
 a2   
 .  = a1 a2 . . . an .
 .. 
an

5
6 Introduction to LINEAR PROGRAMMING with MATLAB R

The transpose of a row vector (2.2) is a column vector (2.1).

a1
 
 T  a2 
a1 a2 . . . an = 
 ...  ,


an
that is
a1
 
 a2 
aT = 
 ...  .


an
Note that the set of all row vectors forms a vector space called
“row space”, similarly the set of all column vectors forms a vector
space called “column space”.
A vector space V is a collection of vectors, which is closed under
the operations of addition of two vectors a, b ∈ V , and multiplica-
tion by a scalar, α ∈ R, then the following properties hold:
1. Commutativity of vector addition: for vectors a, b ∈ V
a + b = b + a.

2. Associativity of vector addition: for vectors a, b, c ∈ V

a + (b + c) = (a + b) + c.

3. Existence of zero vector: for vector a ∈ V , we have

a + 0 = 0 + a = a.

4. Distributivity: for vectors a, b ∈ V and scalars α, β ∈ R, we

have
α(a + b) = αa + αb,
(α + β)a = αa + βa.

5. Associativity of multiplication: for vector a ∈ V and scalars

α, β ∈ R, we have
α(βa) = (αβ)a.
 Vector Spaces and Matrices 7

6. Unitarity: for vector a ∈ V , we have

1a = a.

7. The scalar 0 satisfies: for vector a ∈ V , we have

0a = 0.

8. Any scalar α ∈ R satisfies:

α0 = 0.

9. Existence of negatives: for a ∈ V , we have

(−1)a = −a.
 T  T
Two vectors a = a1 a2 . . . an and b = b1 b2 . . . bn are
equal if and only if ai = bi , for all i = 1, 2, . . . , n.
We can add two vectors a and b as
 T
a + b = a1 + b1 a2 + b2 . . . an + bn .
We can subtract two vectors a and b as
 T
a − b = a1 − b1 a2 − b2 . . . an − bn .
The vector 0 − b is denoted as −b.
 T
Suppose that x = x1 , x2 , . . . , xn is a solution to a + x = b.
Then,
a1 + x 1 = b 1 ,
a2 + x 2 = b 2 ,
..
.
an + x n = b n ,
and thus
x = b − a.
We can say that vector b − a is the unique solution of the vector
equation a + x = b.
8 Introduction to LINEAR PROGRAMMING with MATLAB R

We define an operation of multiplication of a vector a ∈ Rn by

a real scalar α ∈ R as
 
αa = αa1 αa2 . . . αan .
Note that αa = 0 if and only if α = 0 or a = 0. To see this,
observe that αa = 0 is equivalent to αa1 = αa2 = · · · = αan = 0.
If α = 0 or a = 0, then αa = 0. If a 6= 0, then at least one of its
components ak 6= 0. For this component, αak = 0, and hence we
must have α = 0. Similar arguments can be applied to the case
when α 6= 0.
Definition
 2.1 (Linearly Independent). A set of vectors S =
a1 , a2 , . . . , ak is said to be linearly independent if the equal-
ity α1 a1 + α2 a2 + · · · + αk ak = 0 implies that all coefficients
αi ∈ R, where i = 1, 2, . . . , k are equal to zero.
   
1 0
Example 2.1. Prove that the vectors a1 = 0 , a2 =    1 ,
1 −1
 
0
a3 = 0  are linearly independent.

−1
We apply definition of linear independent. We must show that
the linear combination of vectors a1 , a2 and a3 are equal to zero in
which all the coefficients α1 , α2 , and α3 should be zero. Therefore,
we can write as
       
1 0 0 0
α1 0 + α2  1  + α3  0  = 0 .
1 −1 −1 0
Equating the corresponding coordinates of the vectors on the left
and right side, we get the following system of linear equations:
α1 = 0,
α2 = 0,
α1 − α2 − α3 = 0.
Solving the above equations, we get α1 = α2 = α3 = 0. Thus,
vectors a1 , a2 , and a3 are linearly independent.
 Vector Spaces and Matrices 9

Definition
 2.2 (Linearly Dependent). A set of the vectors S =
a1 , a2 , . . . , ak is said to be linearly dependent if there exists co-
efficients αi ∈ R, where i = 1, 2, . . . , k not all of which are zero
such that α1 a1 + α2 a2 + · · · + αk ak = 0.
   
1 1
Example 2.2. Show that the vectors a1 = 2 , a2 = −1, and
  
1 2
 
3
a3 = 3 are linearly dependent.

4
The vectors a1 , a2 , a3 are linearly dependent because 2a1 + a2 −
a3 = 0, where αi 6= 0, i.e., α1 = 2, α2 = 1, and α3 = −1.

Theorem 2.1. A set of vectors a1 , a2 , . . . , ak is linearly depen-
dent if and only if one of the vectors ai from the set is a linear
combination of the remaining vectors.

Proof. Using definition (2.2), since a1 , a2 , . . . , an is linearly de-
pendent, there exists coefficients αi ∈ R, not all zero such that

α1 a1 + · · · + αi ai + · · · + αk ak = 0. (2.3)

Suppose αi 6= 0 for some i, that is

α1 α2 αi−1 αi+1 αk
ai = − a1 − a2 − · · · − ai−1 − ai+1 − · · · − ak .
αi αi αi αi αi

Conversely, for some i, ai can be expressed as a linear combination

of other vectors. That is,
ai = α1 a1 + · · · + αi−1 ai−1 + αi+1 ai+1 + · · · + αk ak ,
then we can write

α1 a1 + · · · + (−1)ai + αi+1 ai+1 + · · · + αk ak = 0.


Since αi =–16= 0, thus, the set of vectors a1 , a2 , . . . , an is linearly
dependent.
10 Introduction to LINEAR PROGRAMMING with MATLAB R

2.2 Matrix
A matrix is a rectangular array of numbers, commonly denoted
by uppercase bold letters (e.g., A,B, etc.). A matrix with m rows
and n columns is called an m × n matrix, and we write
a11 a12 . . . a1n
 
 a21 a22 . . . a2n 
A=  ... .. .. ..  .
. . . 
am1 am2 . . . amn

The real number, aij , located in the ith row and j th column is called
the (i, j)th entry. We can think of A in terms of its n columns, each
of which is a column vector in Rm . Alternatively, we can think of
A in terms of its m rows, each of which is a row n-vector. The
transpose of matrix A, denoted as AT , is the n × m matrix.
a11 a21 . . . am1
 
 a12 a22 . . . am2 
AT = 
 ... .. . . ..  .
. . . 
a1n a2n . . . amn
We see that columns of A are the rows of AT and vice versa.
Note that the symbol Rm×n denotes the set of m × n matrices
whose entries are real numbers. We treat column vectors in Rn as
elements of Rn×1 . Similarly, we treat row n-vectors as elements of
R1×n .

2.3 Linear Equations

Consider m linear equations in n unknowns namely of
x1 , x2 , . . . , xn as:
 Vector Spaces and Matrices 11

a11 x1 + a12 x2 + · · · + a1n xn = b1 ,

a21 x1 + a22 x2 + · · · + a2n xn = b2 ,
..
.
am1 x1 + am2 x2 + · · · + amn xn = bm .
Equivalently,
Ax=b.
Associated with this system of equations is the matrix:

A = [a1 , a2 , . . . , an ].
Consider the m × n matrix
a11 a21 . . . am1
 
 a12 a22 . . . am2 
A= 
 ... .. ... ..  .
. . 
a1n a2n . . . amn
We can apply elementary row operations in the matrix A to get
the matrix in reduced form.

An elementary row operation on the given matrix A is an al-

gebraic manipulation of the matrix that corresponds to one of the
following:
1. Interchanging any two rows such as the pth and the uth rows
of the matrix A;
2. Multiplying one of its rows such as the pth row by a real
number α where α =6 0;
3. Adding one of its rows such as the uth row to the β times pth
row.
Rank of Matrix

The number of nonzero rows in the row reduced form of a ma-

trix A is called a rank of the matrix A, denoted as ρ(A). It is read
as ‘rho of A’. Note that if the matrix A is of order m × n and
ρ(A) = m, then A is said to be of full rank.
12 Introduction to LINEAR PROGRAMMING with MATLAB R
 
2 2 2 −2
Example 2.3. Find the rank of the matrix A = 1 2 3 4 .
3 4 5 2
 
2 2 2 −2
 
 1 2 3 4 
3 4 5 2
R1 → 12 R1
 
1 1 1 −1
 
 1 2 3 4 
3 4 5 2
R2 → R2 − R1
 
1 1 1 −1
 
 0 1 2 5 
3 4 5 2
R3 → R3 − 3R1
 
1 1 1 −1
 
 0 1 2 5 
0 1 2 5
R3 → R3 − R2
 
1 1 1 −1
5 .
 
 0 1 2
0 0 0 0
Therefore, ρ(A)=Number of nonzero rows=2.

Example 2.4. Find the rank of the matrix.

 
0 1 −3 −1
 
 1 0 1 1 
 .
 3 1 0 2 
 
1 1 −2 0
 Vector Spaces and Matrices 13

Applying elementary row operations,

 
0 1 −3 −1
 
 1 0 1 1 
 
 3 1 0 2 
 
1 1 −2 0
R2 ↔ R1
 
1 0 1 1
 0 1 −3 −1 
 
 
 3 1 0 2 
 
1 1 −2 0
R3 → R3 − 3R1
 
1 0 1 1
 0 1 −3 −1 
 
 
 0 1 −3 −1 
 
1 1 −2 0
R4 → R4 − R1
 
1 0 1 1
 0 1 −3 −1 
 
 
 0 1 −3 −1 
 
0 1 −3 −1
R3 → R3 − R2
 
1 0 1 1
 0 1 −3 −1 
 
 
 0 0 0 0 
 
0 1 −3 −1
R4 → R4 − R2
14 Introduction to LINEAR PROGRAMMING with MATLAB R
 
1 0 1 1
 
 0 1 −3 −1 
 .
0 0 0 0
 
 
0 0 0 0
Therefore, ρ(A)=Number of nonzero rows=2.

The system of linear equations is said to be

1. Consistent if ρ(A) = ρ(A|b), then
(a) The system has a unique solution if ρ(A) = ρ(A|b)
=Number of variables.
(b) The system has infinitely many solutions if ρ(A) =
ρ(A|b)<Number of variables.
2. Inconsistent if ρ(A) 6= ρ(A|b), then the system has no solu-
tion.
Example 2.5. Solve the following system of equations.

2x + 6y = −11,
6x + 20y − 6z = − 3,
6y − 18z = − 1.

We can write system of linear equations as an augmented matrix:

 
2 6 0 −11
 
 6 20 −6 −3 
 
0 6 −18 −1

We proceed with elementary row operations.

R2 → R2 − 3R1
 
2 6 0 −11
 
 0 2 −6 30 
 
0 6 −18 −1
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
 "Oh, Sambo! Indeed I'm sorry! How hungry you must be! Come, I'll
make Chloe give you some of our dinner to-day."

Sambo's big eyes opened wide and he slowly shook his head. "Had
somf'n, Miss Debby. D' wan' no mo'."

With his words came the sound of the dinner-horn from the quarters. He
turned. "Goin' home," he said, wearily, trudging out of the room; while the
girl, wondering who had fed him, proceeded to restore order in her
immaculate little domain. When she had finished the doctor reappeared.

"Madam Trevor despatched me," he explained. "Dinner is ready. You're

tired, Debby. Come in."

"Yes, sir, at once, when this sleeve is down." She pulled at the short
elbow-sleeve which she had pushed to the shoulder to be rid of its ruffles.

"How's the cat?" asked Carroll, walking over to its cage.

The creature lay upon the bed of grass blinking nonchalantly, after a
luncheon of milk.

"Perfectly well, eh? Note, Deborah, that the action of the atropine is
already retarded half an hour beyond its time. Most interesting, on my
word!"

"When do you think it will begin?"

"That is difficult to say. By two or three o'clock at the outside. Then

death will probably be rapid. Ready now? Madam is a little impatient, but
she'll not show it before de Mailly. There—the horn sounds at last."

Dinner was gone through with tediously, and at three o'clock the entire
family, with the guests, sat upon the portico, drowsy with heat and the effort
of talking. The doctor, perceiving Deborah's growing impatience, was about
to dare Madam Trevor's high displeasure by carrying her off to the still-room
to watch their cat, when suddenly around the corner of the east wing dashed
a negro, hysterical with fear.
 "Blessed Ma'y be praised! Docto' Ca'l, come quick! Sambo's dyin'! Gib
him somf'n fo' he go off, fo' Christ's sake!"

Before the last words were spoken the doctor had jumped from the
porch, and the rest of the party rose anxiously.

"Sambo? Sambo dying, Joe? Surely not! I'll come at once."

"Which cabin, man? Show us the way," commanded Carroll,

energetically.

Madam Trevor had run into the house to get an apron for her gown, and
Deborah, seizing the opportunity, flew across the portico, leaped down on
the east side, and caught up with the doctor.

"I shall come, too," she said. And Carroll's silence gave consent.

The cabin in which Sambo and his parents lived was on the northeastern
corner of the quarters, and, as the doctor, with his conductor and Deborah,
approached it, a group of negro women about its door hailed them with
expressions of relief and praise. Not heeding the pious ejaculations, the three
passed into the tiny hut, where, upon the mattress in a corner, covered with
tattered blankets, lay Sambo. Beside him, her apron over her head, sat the
mother, Chloe, rocking to and fro in absolute terror.

Carroll knelt at once beside the mattress and glanced sharply into the
child's face. Sambo was lying deathly still, breathing heavily, his eyes wide
open, his black skin dripping with sweat. The doctor felt the child's pulse,
opened his mouth, and gave a sharp exclamation as he perceived the tongue
to be heavily coated with a thick, grayish matter.

"Sit here, Deborah, and hold his hands. He'll not be quiet long."

Deborah took her place at the child's head and clasped the little burning
hands in her own, while Carroll, in a low voice, began to question Chloe.
Sambo noticed Deborah, and smiled faintly as she leaned over him. In a
moment more a swift spasm of agony passed over the small features, and he
uttered a guttural cry of pain. Carroll ran to his side, while the colored
woman, wringing her hands, sank helplessly on the floor. The paroxysm was
violent. The child's body twisted and writhed. He rolled over and over upon
the bed, moaning like an animal, or shrieking in a delirium of torture.
Deborah, very pale, and Carroll, silent and stern, held him so as to prevent as
much exhaustion of strength as was possible. When he began to grow more
quiet, Madam Trevor came in, looking angrily at her cousin, who, however,
scarcely saw her.

"It is possible that you do not need me, doctor," she said, in her most
offended tone.

Carroll paid small attention to her manner. "If you will send out some old
linen, pepper, mustard, and salt from the house, it will be all that we can use.
To be frank," he added, in a low tone, "there is little hope now."

Madam Trevor looked aghast, and her manner softened instantly. "Little
hope! What do you mean? What shall we do?"

"What I ask, if you please. Linen, salt, mustard, and pepper. Chloe, you
must heat some water in the kettle there." And Carroll turned about again as
Madam Trevor, without another word, hurried out of the cabin on her errand.

The girl, meantime, bent over Sambo, questioning him.

"What was it, Sambo? Have you eaten anything? What have you done?"
she asked, caressingly.

Sambo, panting from weakness, answered, just audibly: "Done eat nuf 'n
't all but mushrooms you picked 's mo'n wiv Mas' Frenchman. You say dey
good fo' dinne'."

"My God!"

"What is it?" asked the doctor, quickly, seeing her face grow gray.

"He has eaten the muscaria," she whispered, tremulously.

"I know it."

"And it was my fault—my fault! Good Heavens! What shall I do?"

 With a quick sob she caught the child, who suddenly sprang to her in a
new spasm of pain. The muscles of his body grew rigid with contraction
beneath her grasp. Sambo clutched and opened his hands wildly in the air.
New sweat poured out upon his cold flesh, his eyes started from their
sockets, and Chloe, catching sight of him, screamed with despair. At this
moment Madam Trevor, bearing those things which the doctor had
commanded, re-entered the cabin. While Carroll worked over Sambo's body,
Deborah suddenly left her place, turned blindly about and ran out of the
cabin through the terror-stricken group at the door, and across the sunny yard
to the still-room. Without an instant's hesitation she flung herself against the
closed door and turned its handle with her shaking fingers. Presently she
found herself standing dizzily before the cage of the poisoned animal. Twice
she opened and shut her eyes to make sure that her vision was not deranged.
No. There was the cat making its afternoon toilet with foppish precision,
stopping occasionally to regard her solemnly with its bright green eyes.

Deborah was not long there. When she was sure her hope had been
realized, she turned to the cupboard, snatched a bottle from its shelf, and ran
at full speed out of the room and back towards the cabin. Upon the bed
Sambo's body lay now outstretched, quiet save for an occasional little quiver
of the muscles, and over it Madam Trevor, with grave tenderness, and Dr.
Carroll, with hopeless skill, worked. Some hot gin had been forced down the
child's throat, and across him were spread linen cloths soaked in water so
near to boiling that they had scalded Chloe's hands; yet Sambo paid no
attention either to them or to the mixture with which they were rubbing his
limbs. When Deborah returned, Carroll left off chafing the little black arms
and went to her where she stood by the door.

"What to do, Debby?" he whispered, helplessly.

"There's no hope?" she asked.

Carroll shook his head. "He is passing into the coma now. That is the
end."

"You will let me try something?" she asked, quickly.

"Anything in the world. Nothing can harm him now."

 "Where is a cup?"

"What have you?" he cried.

Madam Trevor started and looked around. Deborah put a tremulous

finger to her lips, and shook her head. The doctor instantly understood, and
let her go to the shelf in a corner, where, her back being to the others, she
poured half the contents of her bottle into a tin cup. With this, slowly and
resolutely, she approached the bed. Chloe stepped suddenly in her way:

"What yo' got?" she asked, in no friendly tone.

"Medicine for Sambo," was the steady reply.

"Of your own making, Deborah?" came Madam Trevor's sharp voice.

"Yes, yes. You are wasting precious time. Chloe—let me pass."

"No, Miss Deb'. You ain' goin' give Sambo nuf'n from still-house."

"Dr. Carroll!" There was a desperate appeal in her tone, and the man
came instantly to her aid.

"Listen, Chloe! Unless your child in some way gets the help that I cannot
give, he must die. He is poisoned, as I supposed, fatally. Miss Deborah
believes that she can save his life. You cannot let him die without the
attempt."

The colored woman paid no attention to the words, and still menacingly
barred the way. A new idea was taking possession of her: that Deborah had
poisoned the boy. Carroll, who was watching her narrowly, saw the sudden
squaring of her shoulders, darted quickly in front of her and seized her about
the body just as she had been about to fling herself upon the girl. Deborah,
keyed to the highest pitch, watched her opportunity, slipped like a cat around
to the bedside, raised Sambo's head upon her arm, and, to Madam Trevor's
terror, pressed her fingers on the child's throat, and forced him to swallow
the contents of the cup. At once he was seized with a violent coughing fit.
Deborah lifted him upright at once, pressed her hands upon his temples and
the back of his neck, and kept him from that retching which would have
been fatal to her experiment.

Meantime Carroll had forced Chloe, screaming and struggling, from the
cabin, and, after calling Thompson to keep order in the group outside, he
closed and barred the door. Madam Trevor then rose from her place.

"Charles Carroll, you are permitting my ward to murder this child. I

cannot remain here as witness to such a deed. When you will accept the
assistance that I have to give, and will order this girl away, you may send
word to the house."

And, with these words, Antoinette Trevor rose in strong anger, shook out
her flounces, unfastened the door for herself, and, without more ado, left the
cabin and the dying child alone to the care of the doctor and his mad
protégée.

Carroll witnessed the departure without a word, and it was with an

expression rather of relief than chagrin that he turned to Deborah.

"What did you give him?" he asked, quietly.

"Atropine. Four times more than enough to kill him."*

* Atropine is to-day considered the best antidote for cases of poisoning by

the amanita muscaria or the amanita phalloides. At the period of the
story (1744) its efficacy was unknown.

"The cat—"

"Lives."

"Good God, Deborah! We must save him now!"

Deborah set her teeth. "We—I will save him," she said, with slow
precision. "Or else—they will bury me with him."
 Madam Trevor, upon her return to the house, said not a word of the scene
in the cabin. It was a relief to her to find that de Mailly had tactfully
departed and that the family was alone. Lucy and Virginia beset her with
questions, for the child was a pet with them all. It was something of a shock,
then, when their mother turned upon them, saying sharply: "Sambo will die,"
and forthwith retired to her own room. The girls looked at each other for a
long moment in amazement, and then Lucy cried quickly:

"Let us go to see him at once."

Virginia would have assented, but her brother shook his head.

"Deborah and the doctor both are there. If you are needed, you will be
sent for. Otherwise I forbid you to go."

And so the Trevor family lived dismally through the afternoon, waiting
for the supper-hour, when the watchers would appear. But Adam blew the
horn in vain. No word came from the cabin, and Madam Trevor, burning
with curiosity and anxiety, flatly refused to send any one to ask news of the
child.

The sun set, and dusk deepened to evening. Candles were lighted in the
sitting-room, but Vincent alone made any pretence of reading. The three
women moved about restlessly, the girls not daring, and their mother
unwilling to speak on the subject which occupied all their thoughts. The
silence had become unbearable, and Vincent at last started to put away his
book, with a resolve to go to the quarters, when the door flew open and Dr.
Carroll strode into the room, carrying Deborah's body in his arms. He laid
her down upon the brocaded sofa, while the girls rushed to her side.

"She fainted as we came across the yard," explained the doctor, wearily.

"The child is dead, then?"

"Sambo will live. The girl saved his life. She is a genius, madam; and—
for God's sake, get me a glass of wine!"
 CHAPTER VI

Claude's Memories

Deborah recovered from her afternoon over Sambo's sick-bed far less
rapidly than the small negro did from the effects of his remarkable breakfast.
In fact, three days after that upon which he had substituted the fly agaric for
hoe-cake, he was running about the plantation as usual, only with a new and
useful working knowledge concerning vermilion-colored fungi. With
beautiful impartiality he sought the still-room on the afternoon of the first
day that he left the cabin. He found its door locked, and presently discovered
that Miss Deb was to be seen nowhere about the grounds. On making
peremptory inquiries, he was informed, much to his disgust, that his play-
fellow was ill in bed, without amanita for cause, and that he might not dream
of such a thing as seeing her. Thereupon, retiring to the still-house door-step,
young Sambo lifted up his voice and wept, though he got no consolation
from the process.

Strictly speaking, Deborah was not in bed. She was too restless to remain
long in any one place, but she felt no desire to leave the house. What care
she needed, and a little more, was lavished on her by Madam Trevor, her
cousins, and the slaves. Nevertheless, she was very wretched. She could not
understand her continual weariness and her impatience with the familiar
scenes of everyday life. She suffered inexpressibly with the mid-day heat,
and shivered with cold through the mild nights. "Nerves" were to her
unnecessary and incomprehensible things, and her disgust with herself was
none the less exasperating because it was unreasonable. Dr. Carroll,
however, was wiser than she. A week after Sambo's affair he heard of her
condition and went out to her at once. His prescription pleased the whole
family, with the exception, perhaps, of Sir Charles. He proposed taking her
back with him to Annapolis, to spend ten days under his own hospitable
roof, with his two sisters to take care of her, and young Charles for company.
Permission for the visit was granted on the asking, and, upon the next
afternoon, Deborah set out in the family coach, with the doctor on horseback
as outrider. The only regret that she felt on leaving was, oddly enough, the
parting from Sir Charles. His attentions to her during the past week had been
remarkably delicate. Madam Trevor herself could hardly have objected to
them. Through long hours he had sat near her while she lay upon a sofa,
generally with Lucy or Virginia, or both, beside her, recounting little stories
of his own or his comrades' adventures; describing London and London life;
stopping when he saw that his voice tired her; fanning her, perhaps, in
silence; arranging the tray that held her meals on the stand beside her; and
only once in a long, long time looking into her wandering eyes with an
expression that would set her to thinking of grave and far-off things. Thus
she left the plantation, feeling a new and not unpleasant regret at losing the
companionship which had almost made her illness worth the having.

Dr. Carroll's sisters, Mistress Lettice and little Frances Appleby, awaited
their guest with solicitation. The coach that held her arrived at their door just
at tea-time, and Deborah was smiling with pleasure when the doctor lifted
her out and carried her bodily up the walk and into the house, with St.
Quentin on one side, his son on the other, and the little old maids smiling
together in the doorway. The young lady then refused absolutely to retire,
but sat up to tea, partook of some of Miriam Vawse's raspberry conserve, and
afterwards lay upon the sofa in the parlor with an unexpressed hope in her
heart that Claude might come.

Claude was to have come. Mistress Lettice, when she learned from her
brother that their guest would arrive that afternoon, had sent down a polite
request by young Charles that monsieur would honor them with his presence
in the evening. As politely de Mailly returned thanks for the invitation, gave
no definite reply, but intended to go. Upon that afternoon, however, the Sea-
Gull arrived, after a fair voyage, from Portsmouth; and in her came a long
letter and a consignment of rents from Mailly-Nesle to his cousin. Many
things were happening in France. In March, war with England and Maria
Theresa had been declared, and the French armies prepared for a campaign.
In May came the astounding intelligence that, through the influence of la
Châteauroux, who loved the heroic, Louis would command his forces in
person. A week later it was understood that the favorite was to follow in the
royal train, together with the King's staff, his aides, his chefs, his valet, and
the impedimenta. The letter was dated May 28th. As he read it, Claude's
heart burned; and with the evening, in the bitterness of his memories of the
old life, and in the wretched conjectures that he made as to what was the
French news now, he forgot Deborah. Where was she, Marie Anne, his
cousin? What battles had been fought over the water? Was the fifteenth
Louis still reigning over France? Had not some chance shot struck him, and
with him the third daughter of the de Maillys, down in all their clanging
glory? Did la Châteauroux never now think of the cousin exiled for her, at
her instance? Henri did not say. And Miriam Vawse of the Annapolis inn
wondered that night what news her lodger had received, that he should sit,
stoop-shouldered, over the empty fireplace, and forget that, only two blocks
away, in Dr. Carroll's house, Debby Travis was vainly waiting for him to
come to her.

Claude did remember her next morning, when the sunlight gave matters
a different aspect, and the letter had been shut away in his trunk. So it was
with only half his mind on French battle-fields and a vaguely dreamed-of
Dettingen, that he ate his colonial breakfast; and afterwards, as he left the
ordinary and bent his steps leisurely northward towards Dr. Carroll's house,
his homesickness fled quite away.

The Carrolls' breakfast had ended some time ago (Claude's Versailles
habits of late rising were not yet broken); and Deborah, already bettered by
the change of scene and atmosphere, had come down to the morning meal.
She was now in the doctor's study, leaning back in his great chair, while
young Charles stood moodily facing the window, sulky because she was not
yet well enough to bear a morning on the bay, so obtaining for him a
vacation on plea of hospitality.

"Now I know why you won't mind about me any more. Here's your de
Mailly coming up the walk. Faith, I'll not bear it! You've grown into a fine
lady, Debby, and are no fun nowadays. I'd as soon have Lucy running with
me."

"And you, Charles, are ungentlemanly. If you were anything but a child,
I wouldn't speak to you this sennight."

"I'm as old as you, lacking a month."

 "Little one would think it, then."

"Pardon, if I intrude. I come to inquire after Mistress Travis' health."

Claude stood smiling upon the threshold, for he had overheard the last
words of the quarrel. Deborah, her white face flushing a little, held out her
hand. As he bent over it she said, in a much gentler tone than that which she
had been using: "I am really well, only I have nerves. Charles, however, is
using me very ill. He says that nerves are nonsense. Do you think so?"

"In my country, mademoiselle, they are considered serious. A lady who

has them retires to her bed and expects all her friends to come and amuse her
till she is better. Charles, you are heartless."

Deborah looked a little shocked at his first statement and his matter-of-
fact tone when making it; but she said nothing. Presently Father St. Quentin
appeared at the door. After stopping to extend a hearty greeting to de Mailly,
he flung a Latin imperative at poor Charles, who obeyed it with the poorest
possible grace, leaving the room alone to Deborah and the Count. Claude
seated himself near her, and looked at her for a few seconds in silence,
noting a difference in her general expression. She was too languid to be
embarrassed by the pause, but, not caring to return the scrutiny, slightly
turned her head and looked toward the windows.

"I owe Miss Travis an apology, do I not?"

She glanced towards him now in some surprise. "An apology? For
what?"

"Nay, then I will not make it. I will only tell you that, as the preserver of
a child's life, I must reverence your talent, on which, I confess, I had looked
with ill-timed disapproval."

Deborah gazed at him thoughtfully. "I recollect now. You were

displeased to think that I would poison a cat. I assure you it was the cat
saved Sambo's life. Neither of them died."

"So Dr. Carroll told me. I have heard all that you did on that afternoon;
and I, like the doctor, have not words to express my admiration."
 "You are very kind. Please—do not let us talk of that. I came here to
forget. Come—would you entertain me, monsieur?"

"In whatever way lies in my power."

"Why, then, it is done. It would give me infinite entertainment, monsieur,

to hear the life of the ladies of the French Court, where you lived. The doctor
has told me what a great Court it is. How do the ladies dress, what do they
eat, do they go every night to the assembly? Faith, that would be tiresome
enough, I think!"

De Mailly laughed a little at her comment, but did not immediately

comply with the request. Memory had once more come home to him again,
but this time with a curious addition. Of a sudden he found that he could
definitely imagine Deborah Travis as having a place in that French Court
that she spoke of. It was a curious notion, and he regarded her for some time
contemplatively, before he began to speak.

"If you were in Versailles, Mademoiselle Deborah, you would doubtless

be madame."

"What! Are there no unmarried ladies there?"

"Yes—a few. Those who cannot find a husband. But we are supposing
that you would not be there unless some grand seigneur had married you and
carried you away."

Deborah laughed merrily, and Claude, with some satisfaction, perceived

that she had entered into his own spirit. "Continue! continue!" she cried. "I
am already perishing with interest."

"You would dwell in an apartment in—we will say the Rue des
Rossignols—that is the name of a street. Let us see. You sleep in a charming
room hung in white brocade. Your dressing-room will be in pink satin, with
the chairs in tapestry which monsieur would have embroidered for you—"

"Monsieur—a man—embroider!"
 "Oh yes. The King himself commanded de Gêvres to teach him stitches a
year ago. He began four sièges at once, I remember, and de Mouhy made an
excellent bon-mot about it. No matter. Your tapestries in apple-green, your
tables in mahogany, and your sets in ivory—or gold? Which?"

"Ivory, I think. Pink satin and ivory would be—oh, most beautiful!" she
replied, cocking her head a little on one side.

He nodded, appreciative of her taste. "The salon—blue and gold; the

dining-room in green; and, for monsieur's room, we will let it go. At nine in
the morning you have your chocolate in bed. Half an hour later you rise, and
your toilette à la mode begins."

"Oh, what is a toilette à la mode?"

The Count shrugged his shoulders. "You, in a delightful négligé, receive

in the pink satin boudoir, while your hair is powdered. Yours would never
need to be curled, mademoiselle. Eh bien! During the toilette you would
have cakes and cordial, or more chocolate. At one o'clock you meet
monsieur the husband, and dine with him either alone or at the palace. For
the afternoon there are a thousand things. You attend a levée, the hunt, a
salon, a tea à l'anglaise; you drive, promenade in the Orangerie or a Paris
boulevard; you visit shops; you attend a sale; you receive at home; or,
perhaps, if the night is to be fatiguing, you sleep. You never spin, you do not
knit, nor do you—distil poisons and save lives, Mistress Deborah. At seven
you sup—hardly this time with monsieur, who has his own engagements.
Later you attend the Opéra or the Italiens, indulge in a little supper with a
party later, and return to Versailles shortly after midnight. If you are in his
Majesty's immediate circle you go to Choisy, perhaps. But—that,
mademoiselle—I trust—you will never do. Now do you think the life
pleasant?"

"I'm sure I cannot tell," was the demure response; but the girl's face
belied her words. It was aglow with pleasure. "And what is it that you would
do, monsieur? How—how could you have borne it to leave such a life? Did
you really tire of it? Was—"
 He rose sharply to his feet, and she broke off at once, astonished and half
frightened at the change in his face. "There are many thorns among the
roses, mademoiselle. Life is not happier there than here. And some day—
some day, perhaps—I will tell you the other side of it; why"—he almost
whispered now, for his throat was dry—"why I left it all."

"Oh, forgive me! I had not meant to pain you."

He looked down into the face that had lost all its glow of pleasure, took
her slight hand, kissed it quietly, and left her alone to think over all that had
been said, to wonder over the uncertain promise of more, and to hope that he
would neither forget nor repent.

The little conversation had taken her mind away from herself and set it in
a new and far-off channel. When Dr. Carroll came back from his walk to the
wharves, he found his little guest with color in her face and animation in her
air. She told him of de Mailly's visit, and Carroll, judging its effect, resolved
that the tonic should be administered often while his patient remained with
him. The result was that, in the following days, Claude de Mailly and
Deborah were thrown constantly together. And during their lively
conversations, or, perhaps, even more so in their desultory ones, there grew
up between them an intimacy more of good-fellowship than anything else,
the spirit of which deceived both Claude and the doctor, though how much
prophecy Deborah might have made concerning it, would be more difficult
to say.

One afternoon, a Friday, and two days before Deborah was to return to
the plantation, while the doctor was at his counting-house near the wharves,
and the two little sisters sat together spinning in the sitting-room, their guest,
panting with the heat inside the house, and wishing also to escape young
Charles, who would presently be relieved from his Horace, sought out her
largest hat and crept out of doors, passing down the street in the direction of
the Vawse inn. She had not seen de Mailly for nearly twenty-four hours, and,
as a consequence, her day was empty. She had small hopes of encountering
him now, but was too restless to remain any longer in the room with the two
old maids and their whirring wheels. She passed the quaintly gabled tavern,
whose door, contrary to custom, was closed. Evidently Miriam was out.
There was no sign of life about the windows. Claude himself was probably
not there. Deborah walked on, disappointedly, as far as the court-house, and,
still not wishing to admit to herself that she had come out simply with the
hope of encountering de Mailly, turned down Green Street and followed it to
the water's edge. The Stewart quay was deserted, and she halted there to look
over the smooth, warm stretch of water. It was very still. The idle swash of
the ripples against the pier was the only sound that reached her ears. The
atmosphere was hazy with heat. It seemed as though it was the very weight
and thickness of the air which gradually formed a solid arch of purple storm-
clouds above the river to the west. Presently the sun was obscured. Still
Deborah stood, heedlessly watching the bay, and breathing slowly in the
stifling heat. Suddenly some one appeared beside her.

"Mademoiselle—mademoiselle—you will surely be wet."

Deborah turned her head towards him with a smile of pleasure which she
would have repressed if she could. "Did you fall from the clouds, sir?"

"No. I have myself been wandering by the water this afternoon; and for
the past quarter of an hour I have been watching the gathering storm—and
you. Come, mademoiselle, we must seek shelter—and quickly."

"Let us try to reach Miriam's. We can run."

He took her arm as she spoke, and they started together down Hanover
Street to Charles, which ran straight up for five blocks to Gloucester Street
and the Vawse tavern. As they passed the Reynolds ordinary a deafening
clap of thunder broke over them. Deborah shivered, and de Mailly put an
arm about her to help her faster on their way. The street was empty. The heat
had not yet broken, and beads of perspiration stood on their faces as they
went. A long hiss of lightning glided like a snake through the storm-cloud.
The town was almost dark. Deborah had begun to pant, and her companion
could feel the beating of her heart shake her whole frame.

"C'est rien, mademoiselle. Nous sommes presque là. L'orage sera

vraiment énorme!" he muttered rapidly.

A moment more and, as a new thunder-clap rattled down the sky, a

sudden cold breath struck the city. With the wind, which blew like a
hurricane down the river, came a pelting rain. The two reached their
destination barely in time. Claude flung open the door of the tavern, and
Deborah was blown over its threshold in a gush of water.

It was with some difficulty that Claude shut and bolted the door in the
face of the wind. When he turned about his companion lay back on a
wooden settle in a state of exhaustion. While the gale howled without and
the thunder crashed down the heavens; he lit a candle with his tinder-box,
brought a glass of strong waters for Deborah, and helped her gently to a
more comfortable chair. He took the hat from her tumbled hair, chafed her
hands till her nails grew pink again, and then stood back regarding her
anxiously.

"Oh, I'm quite recovered. It was a long run. Where—where is Miriam?"

"Mistress Vawse? John Squire's boy broke a limb falling from a roof, and
she has gone to attend the—what do you say?—setting of it."

"Then we are here quite alone?" asked the girl, nervously.

"Surely Miss Travis is not afraid with me?" Claude looked at her in hurt
surprise. "I will retire at once to my room. When the rain ceases—"

Deborah laughed a little. "No, no. You misunderstand. I am afraid of

storms. I should be frightened to death to be left here alone with—that."

Both listened as the long, low growl of thunder rolled down the sky and
died away. It was growing darker again. A new storm was rising.

Claude, much relieved at the sincerity of Deborah's tone, drew a stool

near her. "May I sit here by you, then?" he asked.

Deborah nodded and leaned back in her own chair. Then there fell a little
silence on the room. The girl's unconscious eyes travelled over de Mailly's
face as he sat regarding the rain-splashed windows; and they found a new
expression, a new paleness, an unusual soberness, upon the clear-cut
features. Unthinkingly, Deborah spoke:
 "You are changed to-day, monsieur. I have not seen you so before. Why
are you melancholy?"

He turned towards her quickly. "Yes, I have what we call les papillons
noirs to-day. In some way, Mistress Deborah, 'tis your fault. In these last
days I have said so much to you of my former life, jestingly perhaps, and yet
feeling it, that to-day it has brought me homesickness."

Before his frank look Deborah's eyelids drooped, and presently, with a
little hesitation, she said: "You once told me that some day you would relate
to me why it was that you left your home. Could you not—now?"

"Ah, no!" The exclamation was impetuous. "It is not a story for you,
mademoiselle. An older woman might hear—but to you—"

"Think of me as older," she suggested, so quietly that his resolve was

shaken.

"It will be hard to forgive me, I think, afterwards," he deprecated.

"What shall I have to forgive? 'Tis I that ask the tale."

"It is a story of unfortunate love," he said, regarding her narrowly.

Her head drooped farther. "Tell me all now, monsieur."

And so, out of an impulse which he could not have traced to its source,
but which proceeded from a spirit of honesty and true chivalry, Claude
recounted, with the utmost gentleness and delicacy, some of the incidents
which had led to his exile. He said just enough of his cousin to let his
listener decide what his feeling for her had been. And Deborah, oddly
enough, perhaps, shrank from no part of the recital. She forgot herself, and
saw through the eyes of the narrator all that he was describing. In their
recent, half-serious talks on French life, the girl had gained a remarkably
clear idea of what that life must be; and now this story affected her very
differently than it would have done had it been her first glimpse of another
existence. It resembled one of her vague dreams, this sitting alone in the
cloud-darkened room, the feeble candle mingling its beams with the gloomy
daylight; the shadowy figure of the man before her, and his low voice
carrying on its story, seeming to be things very far away. And the fresh rain
pelted on the windows, while the deep monotone of the thunder made a fitful
and fitting accompaniment to the narrative.

"So, mademoiselle, it was there in the chapel that M. de Maurepas

delivered me the letter from the King. Henri, madame's brother, was with
me. I read the letter just there. I have forgotten if I spoke after it, or if either
of them addressed me. Henri, I think, led me out and away, into the town, to
our apartment. But next morning it was all very clear. Henri seemed to feel
more than I. Later on that day I went to bid madame good-bye. She was very
gracious—yes, most gracious."

"How could you go to see her? I should not have done so."

"Ah, mademoiselle, I had to see her. I wished to take her with me as my

wife. She did not come. Non. She gave me, instead, to bring away for
memory of her—this." Claude put his hand inside his vest and brought out
two things, the long white gauntlet, and a letter with the royal seal. As he
handed the gage to Deborah, the paper dropped to the floor.

While the girl looked at the glove for the second time, de Mailly picked
up his letter of exile, and sat smoothing it on his knee. Then he asked,
unthinkingly: "This letter from the King—will you read it?"

She held out her hand and took the small, worn paper with its red-brown
seal and the arms of France upon it. Regarding the fine, crabbed writing, she
said, with a faint smile: "I do not easily read French, monsieur."

"Shall I read it to you, then, as well as I can—in English?"

She nodded once more, and he, taking the missive from her hand, cleared
his throat and began, with a little effort:

"'Owing to certain circumstances which of late have had the misfortune

greatly to displease S.M., the King desires to inform Count Claude Vincent
Armand Victor de Nesle de Mailly that the absence of the Count from the
château and city of Versailles after the noon of Friday, January 22d, in this
year of 1744, will be desirable to S.M.; and that after the first day of the
month of February, Monsieur the Count, if he has not already crossed the
line of the French Kingdom, would of necessity be placed under the escort of
one of his Majesty's officers. The King wishes monsieur a delightful journey,
and—'"

Claude's eyes, running on before his tongue, suddenly realized the

subject of the next few lines, and he suddenly stopped.

"Go on, monsieur," murmured Deborah, after an instant.

"'GO ON, MONSIEUR,' MURMURED DEBORAH"
 "Mademoiselle, I—cannot. There is nothing more."

"Go on, monsieur," she repeated, quietly.

Claude passed his hand over his brow. Then he lifted the letter again and
continued: "'—and begs further to add that when monsieur shall desire to
present Madame la Comtesse his wife to their Majesties at Versailles, his
return to his present abode will be most pleasing to

"'LOUIS R.'

At the close of the last line Claude looked up, apprehensively. Deborah
was very white, and there was an unusual brightness in her eyes. He could
not catch her glance. Her head drooped, and presently she covered her face
with her hands. He sprang up, impetuously.

"Deborah—Deborah—forget that last! I—didn't mean to read it."

He spoke rather incoherently. Perhaps the girl did not even understand
him. At any rate, after a moment, she lifted her head with a dignity that
Claude did not know. "I thank you, M. de Mailly, for telling me the story as I
asked." There was a little, wretched pause, and then she added, more faintly:
"See, the storm is nearly over. I must go back now—to the doctor's house."

CHAPTER VII

The Pearls

Another week went by, and Deborah, quite recovered from her slight
illness, bade Dr. Carroll and his sisters good-bye and returned, on a Sunday
afternoon, to the Trevor place. It was then about the 1st of August, and
certain rumors relative to the reception of the returning commissioners from
Lancaster, rumors dearly exciting to the feminine heart, began to radiate
from the gubernatorial palace and to spread throughout the country-side. For
once in its long existence rumor spoke truth. Upon the 6th day of August
were issued elaborate cards ("tickets," they called them then) of invitation
for a Governor's ball to be given upon the evening of the 21st to the
returning officials. With the delivery of these cards a thrill of excitement and
anticipation pulsated through all Anne Arundel County, even running a little
way over its irregular borders; and innumerable were the earnest
conversations through town and country houses as to costumes suitable for
such an occasion. Great hopes, that sank often to despair, were entertained of
the arrival of the Baltimore, with her usual cargo of vain and delightful
things. It was calculated with the nicest discrimination that she might reach
port, provided the winds were amiable to an impossible degree, as early as
the 15th. Then the weather of the West Atlantic was watched with supreme
interest. It certainly was all that could be desired. Nevertheless, the 15th
came and went without the Baltimore, and there was wailing on both sides of
the Severn. In time the interest in the ship's arrival came to surpass its object;
though, indeed, Betty Pritchard voiced many another's feeling when she one
day cried out, wofully:

"If the Baltimore doesn't come in, I'll have no pink taffeta for a petticoat
to my satin overdress. If I don't have the petticoat, I won't go to the ball; and
if I don't go to the ball, I shall die!"

One of the most anxious watchers for the arrival of the ship was, oddly
enough, Madam Trevor. Her anxiety concerning it quite passed the
comprehension of her daughters, who had not a suspicion of what was in
their mother's mind. Vincent knew more, but had never seen fit to talk to his
sister on the subject of the pearls which were to form Virginia Trevor's
ornaments on the day that she married Sir Charles. It was tacitly understood
between young Trevor and his mother that he should speak to his cousin on
the arrival of the jewels, and it was madam's ambition to be able to spread
the news of Virginia's engagement at the much-talked-of ball.

The Baltimore was a considerate ship, and her captain the favorite of all
sea-going men in Annapolis. Neither lost a reputation this time, for, on the
20th of August, at ten o'clock in the morning, the Baltimore cast anchor in
the lower piers, and Annapolis womanhood sighed with relief. It was but
seven o'clock on the evening of the same day, and the Trevor family sat at
supper in the glass room, watching the twilight deepen over the scented
garden, when Pompey hastily entered to announce the unexpected arrival of
young Charles Carroll.

"An' he say Baltimo'e 's heah, Mis' Trev'," he added, eagerly, glad to be
the first with the news.

Madam Trevor rose with a light in her face as the doctor's son came
merrily in. Having saluted each member of the party, he advanced to the
mistress of the house, paused for an instant to take on an air of heavy
responsibility, and finally produced, from the pockets of his new cloth coat,
two packages, wrapped in paper and tied with cord, the one square and flat,
the other five inches thick and also square.

"From Captain Croft," he observed, handing them to Madam Trevor,

while all at the table looked on with interest. In a moment the strings were
cut, and the paper wrappings thrown off. Two cases of dark green morocco
appeared. With a deep-drawn breath her mother carried them round the table
and set them before Virginia.

"They are to be yours," she said, gently. "Open them."

Virginia, surprised, but unmoved, lifted the covers from the cases. In
one, upon a green satin lining, reposed a necklace of round, softly shining
pearls, set in gold, with a pendant of pear-shaped pearls and sapphires. The
other case contained a hair ornament, also of pearls, pink and black, in two
even rows, surmounted by a delicate scroll-work of the smaller stones, that
shone in the dusk with exquisite beauty.

Virginia drew a deep sigh of admiration. Lucy cried out with delight; and
Madam Trevor and the gentlemen, looking on in high interest, did not notice
Deborah, who sat silent, eager, with her great eyes fixed in unwinking
fascination on the perfect gems.

"Put them on, Virginia," cried young Charles, and there was a murmur of
approval.
 Lilith, who had been standing by her husband at a little distance, lost in
admiration, nudged old Adam.

"Fetch some can'les," she whispered, excitedly.

Virginia, with a little smile, took up the necklace, and her mother clasped
it about her slender throat. Then the tiara was set and pinned upon her
powdered curls, and Adam, coming forward with a candle in each hand, held
the lights up before her.

"'Ginny, you must wear them to the ball!" cried Lucy, ecstatically.

Virginia had no time to reply, for her mother gently interposed: "They
are not Virginia's yet, Lucy. She shall wear them on her wedding-day."

Charles Fairfield started slightly as his unfortunate eyes suddenly

encountered those of Virginia, who, in her turn, flushed and bent her head.

"I shall never wear them, then," was on her tongue to say; but her brother
interrupted.

"Charlie," he said, addressing his cousin, "come down to the river with
me and see the moon rise. It's in the full to-night."

"Oh, may I come, too?" said Lucy, eagerly.

"No, Lucy; I need you here," interposed her mother, much annoyed with
Vincent's want of tact.

Fairfield, grasping the whole situation, rose at once, without a word.

Before leaving the room he stole an involuntary glance at Deborah. She was
looking at him, for she herself guessed what she did not know. Her lips were
curled into a little smile of amusement that set the man's heart on fire with
anger at—Madam Trevor. He said nothing, however, but quietly followed
Vincent into the still evening.

An hour later Madam Trevor sat alone in the great hall. Young Charles
and the three girls, one by one, had gone to their various rooms, and the
mother was waiting alone for the return of her son and her nephew. She was
unaccountably anxious over the result of the interview, though indeed there
was not one reason which her nephew could, in honor, conjure up, whereby
he might refuse to marry Virginia Trevor. It was with the understanding of a
some-time marriage that he had come to America with Vincent months
before, and because the matter had been so long silently understood, it
should not have been hard for him to hear it finally discussed. Thus, many
times over, Virginia's mother argued in the candle-light, while she waited.
And still, into the midst of her most unanswerable conclusion, would creep a
doubt, a suspicion that she would not voice, the name of one whom she tried
in vain to put from her mind. It was Deborah. Deborah Travis and Charles
Fairfield? Absurd! And yet—madam could see the face of the girl as it had
been that evening when Vincent and his cousin left the room. She could see
the ironical light in the gray-blue eyes, the scornful curl of the red mouth, the
unconscious insolence of the long, natural curl that fell, powderless, down
her shoulder to the muslin ruffles at her elbow. Madam Trevor had a measure
of justice in her, and she gave Deborah her due, admitting to herself that
Virginia, in all her stateliness, with the pearls upon her, would never have
tempted man to half the desperation that might be raised within him over this
other silent creature, half child, half woman, of madam's own generation.

The clock on the wall ticked ten and went on again. At a quarter after,
Trevor and Fairfield came in from the moonlight to the hall. Fairfield was
very pale. Vincent's face was calm and unreadable. Sir Charles, seeing his
aunt expectant, went over to her, lifted her passive hand to his lips, bowed,
and left the room to retire to his own. When he was gone madam turned a
puzzled and anxious face towards her son, who stood still, narrowly
scrutinizing a portrait on the opposite wall.

"He has refused, then, Vincent?" she asked, finally.

"On the contrary, he will marry Virginia when you please."

"Then he asked too much dowry?"

"He said nothing at all of dowry."

"In Heaven's name, then—what is the matter?"

 Vincent sighed, rather wearily. "Nothing is the matter. He does not love
Virginia, of course, but—"

"Nonsense, my boy! He would not marry her if she were distasteful to

him. Love will come. What girl loves her husband when she marries him?
What else did he say, Vincent?"

Vincent shrugged his shoulders. "He said nothing at all. He informed me,
when I spoke, that he did himself the honor formally to ask of me the hand
of my elder sister. I accepted the offer. After that we walked about. I suppose
you will make the engagement public at the ball on Wednesday. I'm deucedly
tired to-night. Permit me to wish that you will sleep well."

"Good-night, my dear Vincent. Your scruples portray the height of your

nature. I honor you for them—but do not worry. Everything will be well.
And so good-night."

With great relief at her heart the mother gently kissed her son, and then,
as he departed with his candle, she blew out all but one of those remaining in
the hall, and with that lighted herself to her rooms in the eastern wing.

At the other end of the house, in the chamber corresponding to Madam

Trevor's, on the ground floor, was that of Sir Charles. Outside his room, in
the passage, were the stairs; and directly overhead were the long, narrow
spinning-room, the hand-loom in its corner, and, incidentally, Deborah's
diminutive chamber. Sir Charles had retired, for want of anything better to
do, and now lay on his cool, flat bed, sleepless, restless, and a prey to
unhappy thoughts. It had come to pass, that thing which he had dreaded all
the summer through. He was engaged to marry Virginia Trevor. In a night or
two all Maryland would be ringing with the affair. In as many months he and
his bride would be leaving the colonies, Annapolis, the plantation—in short,
Deborah—probably forever. And Sir Charles twisted and turned and tried to
put the grayish eyes and the curling red lips out of his mind. They refused to
go. Finally another thought came to bear them company—a thought
generated by them, perhaps, and certainly bold enough and daring enough to
smack of the Court of a Stuart, and to seem absolutely mad in this prim
colonial bedroom of old George Guelph's staid American dependency. None
the less the thought had found a congenial home, and it expanded,
flourished, and gained body and limb till a merry, full-grown plot was
playing havoc with young Fairfield's hope of sleep. He continued to lie
there, restless and scheming, till all his own thoughts were banished by the
sound of footsteps and a trailing of garments, and a curious liveliness of
movement coming to his quickened senses from the room overhead.

Deborah also was awake. Rather, the moonlight, creeping along the
pillow to her face, had roused her, by slow degrees, from a half waking
dream. Alone, in the silent, enchanted night, with no disturbing day-thoughts
to banish the lingering visions of sleep, the dream stayed and grew to be a
fantasy of reality. She rose from her bed and moved slowly towards her open
windows, through which the bluish silver moonlight flowed, changing the
room into a misty-veiled fairy place. Below, outside the window, lay the
dreaming rose-garden. The lazily floating odor of full-blown flowers came
up to her, as incense on its way to a higher heaven. Beyond this lay the deep-
shadowed wood, with here and there a high, feathery tree-top waving to the
stars. The rippling plash of the river played a low accompaniment to the
night hymns of the myriad creatures singing through the country-side. Far
beyond the garden, rising like two cloud-shadows through the luminous
night, were the great tobacco barns. Slave-cabins, still-house, kitchen, well-
sweep, all were changed, by the mysterious power of night, to things of
natural beauty. And Deborah was changed. Her dreams had been of courts
and palaces, of dimly resplendent royal figures, among which she, and
Charles Fairfield, and Claude de Mailly moved in inexplicable near-
relationship. She, Deborah Travis, had just been crowned Queen of all
Europe by the hand of Majesty, with her cousin Virginia's pearls. Now, in the
waking dream, Deborah could not turn her thoughts from those same softly
shining things that Virginia was to wear upon her wedding-day.

Presently, with this single image in her mind, Deborah found herself
outside her room, and creeping, in her white garment, with naked feet, down,
down the stairs, past Sir Charles's door, through the deserted, moonlit living-
rooms, with their misplaced furniture and the scattered articles of a day
waiting for dawn and Lilith to be put straight. She passed across the sitting-
room, down the east passage, and, finally, in at the doorway of Madam
Trevor's dressing-room. Once inside Deborah halted. Madam Trevor's
garments lay, neatly folded, upon a chair. The door to the bedchamber
beyond was half closed. From within came the light sound of regular
breathing. Deborah smiled, and turned to the great black chest of drawers
beside the window. Here also the moonlight illumined her way. She opened
the top drawer noiselessly. Within, on a bed of lavender, lay the two morocco
cases for which she had come. She took them up, left the drawer open, and
glided quietly away again.

Once more in her own room the girl opened the cases and placed them
on her dressing-table, their priceless contents all unveiled. Then she went to
her own chest of drawers, and took from one of them the dress that she was
to wear two nights later at the Governor's ball, a petticoat of stiff, white
satin, and an overdress of China crepe, of the color of apple-blossoms, a
thing that clung lovingly to her lithe figure, and vied in softness of tone with
her neck and arms. These things she put on, with rapid, careless precision;
and then, her fingers grown a little colder, she lifted the pearl necklace from
its satin bed and clasped it about her warm throat. Afterwards she sat down
on a low chair before the dressing-table, with its dim mirror, and took the
tiara from the other box, placing it over her rebellious, silky curls.

"Ah, Claude, Claude, how was it, that thy cousin looked?" she murmured
indistinctly, with a vague smile at her thought.

The dreamy, languorous eyes that knew not all they beheld, gazed at the
reflected image of her face. How beautifully the young head in its coronet
was poised upon the pearl-wreathed neck! Was it a new Deborah sprung to
life here, in this August midnight? Was it only a momentary madness that
should not be told, this carrying out of a dim vision? What was it that
Deborah murmured to her mirror? What did she say to the shadowy throngs
of courtiers that pressed about her chair? Was ever la Châteauroux more
regal, more gracious? Were ever Comtesse de Mailly, and poor little Pauline
Félicité, Marie Anne's predecessors, more gay, more delicately glowing, than
this other, of alien race?

From the heap of her finery Deborah sought out a painted fan, and, with
this finishing touch of coquetry, she began walking up and down her tiny
room, pausing now and then at the window, for the night would not be
disregarded, waving the fan with an air inimitable and unacquired, seeing
herself thus in the Orangerie of Versailles, or on one of the Paris boulevards
as crowded with fashion and gallantry upon a Sunday afternoon. After a little
she grew tired, and her mind dropped its imaginings. She seated herself
beside the window, and, unclasping the necklace, took it off and held the
jewels up in the moonlight, pressing their soft smoothness to her cheek,
where the pendant drops hung like falling tears.

Suddenly, upon the perfect stillness around her, broke a sound. Slow
stealthy footsteps were crossing the floor of the spinning-room just outside.
Deborah grew cold with instant terror. She heard a hand placed upon her
door, and then came a voice, soft, well known, through the stillness:
"Deborah—Deborah!"

It was the lightest of whispers, but every accent fell distinctly on the
girl's terrified ears. Moving noiselessly in her bare feet, she carried the
necklace to the bureau, took the ornament from her head, and laid each piece
in its case. Then, running across the floor, she knelt in her ball-dress, at the
door, grasping its handle firmly.

"Deborah—you are awake?" repeated Sir Charles, more delicately yet.

The girl breathed fast, but made not a sound. Only her hand tightened
upon the handle, and her figure stiffened with determination.

"Let me come in," he said.

Then silence fell between the two, separated by three inches of board and
Deborah's will, there in the August night. There was no one to know that he
was there. Vincent, and Lucy, and young Charles Carroll, sound sleepers all
of them, were in the body of the house; and Virginia was above her mother
in the far eastern wing. The muscles in Deborah's body grew more rigid, and
desperately she held herself against the door. But Fairfield was making no
effort to enter. It should be only with her own consent that he would do that.

"Deborah—beloved—open to me! Deborah—hear me as I have heard

you for an hour past. Let me in—Deborah—my dear!"

She shut her eyes and pressed her forehead against her arm. There was a
silence, breathless, endless, terrifying to the girl in the room. Then her
weight of fear was lifted. The footsteps slowly retreated from her door, out
of the spinning-room, down the stairs, and entered into the room below her
own. She sank weakly to her knees, and a breath like a sob shook her slight
frame. She was intensely sleepy now. For very weariness, it was hard to
realize the crisis through which she had passed. But there was a task still
before her, and one at which she trembled. Rising unsteadily, too wise to
give herself time to think, she took the jewel-cases from her toilet-table,
opened her door, crept out, and down the stairs, and passed stealthily back to
madam's dressing-room. The room, the drawer, were as she had left them.
Replacing Virginia's pearls in their bed of lavender, she pushed the drawer
to, inch by inch, till it was closed. Three minutes later she had once more
crossed the threshold of her own room. And while the pale moon set and the
day dawned in crimson and turquoise over the distant Chesapeake, Deborah
slept dreamlessly—Claude, and the Versailles pageants, and Charles
Fairfield's strange madness all lost to her for the moment under the spell of
the great blessing of youth.

Matters were different with Sir Charles, below. No sleep had the dusky
dawn, with its liquid bird-warblings and its fresh day-odor, for him. He was
thinking of what he had done—and of what he should do. The impulse that
had driven him to go to the room above was past now. He knew only that he
had forfeited her very tolerance of him; and the thought quickened his half-
generated love into a sudden, fervid life that swayed his senses and fired his
brain to plots and plans of unwise daring. At six o'clock he was dressed, and
sat him down to wait for Deborah's waking. It was an endless hour, and day
had begun over the whole plantation before he heard her cross the floor over
his head, and knew that his waiting was bounded at last.

Deborah was half dressed before the sudden memory of the past night
flashed over her. Then her hands dropped to her sides, and she sat still for a
little, thinking. How should she meet Charles Fairfield before them all—or,
worse yet, if possible, alone? How could he meet her? Had she done
anything wrong? No. What he had done was not her concern. And
thereupon, with a lighter heart, but doubt still in her face, she finished
dressing, set her room to rights—for she was immaculately neat—and
started away without seeming reluctance. She was going downstairs, her
thoughts centred on the breakfast-room as the place of ordeal. The door at
the stair-foot opened; Sir Charles came out of his room and stood below her,
barring the way.
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