When supper was over the earl drew his chair up to the fire, and, still wrapped in his fur mantle--for the bitter wind blew through the cracks and crannies of the cabin--sat in a reverie with his deep eyes fixed on the blaze. George had meant that night to ask him something about the siege of Bouchain, but he saw that the earl was deep in thought, and so said nothing. He began to wonder what his mother and Betty were doing at that time. It was after supper at Ferry Farm, too. His mother was knitting by the table in the parlor, with two candles burning, and Betty was practising at the harpsichord. In his mother’s bedroom--“the chamber,” as it was called in Virginia--a fire was burning, and around the hearth were gathered the household servants picking the seed from the cotton which, when warmed by the fire, came out easily. This they did while waiting until they were dismissed at nine o’clock. What was Billy doing? and Rattler? While thinking these thoughts George dropped asleep, and slept soundly until Lance waked him raking down the ashes and preparing for the night.