The first shadow that fell upon me in my new home was caused by the return of my parents to New Orleans.

Their visit was cut short by business which required my father's presence in Natchez, where he was establishing a branch of the bankinghouse.

When they had gone, a sense of loneliness such as I had never dreamed of filled my young breast.
I crept away to the stable, and, throwing my arms about Gypsy's neck, sobbed aloud.

She too had come from the sunny South, and was now a stranger in a strange land.
The little mare seemed to realize our situation, and gave me all the sympathy I could ask, repeatedly rubbing her soft nose over my face and lapping up my salt tears with evident relish.
When night came, I felt still more lonesome.

My grandfather sat in his arm-chair the greater part of the evening, reading the Rivermouth Bamacle, the local newspaper.