Had an angel appeared suddenly to the blacks at Spring Bank they would

not have been more surprised or delighted than they were with Alice when

she came down to breakfast, looking so beautiful in her muslin wrapper,

with a simple white blossom and geranium leaf twined among her flowing

curls, and an expression of content upon her childish face, which said

that she had resolved to make the best of the place to which Providence

had so clearly led her for some wise purpose of his own. She had arisen

early and explored the premises in quest of the spots of sunshine which

she knew were there as well as elsewhere, and she had found them, too,

in the grand old elms and maples which shaded the wooden building, in

the clean, grassy lawn and the running brook, in the well-kept garden of

flowers, and in the few choice volumes arranged in the old bookcase at

one end of the hall. Who reads those books, her favorites, every one of

them? Not 'Lina, most assuredly, for Alice's reminiscences of her were

not of the literary kind; nor yet Mrs. Worthington, kind, gentle

creature as she seemed to be. Who then but Hugh could have pored over

those pages? And Alice felt a thrill of joy as she felt there was at

least one bond of sympathy between them. There was no Bible upon the

shelves, no religious book of any kind, if we except a work of infidel

Tom Paine, at sight of which Alice recoiled as from a viper. Could Hugh

believe in Tom Paine? She hoped not, and with a sigh she was turning

from the corner, when the patter of little naked feet was heard upon the

stairs, and a bright mulatto child, apparently seven or eight years old,

appeared, her face expressive of the admiration with which she regarded

Alice, who asked her name.

Curtseying very low, the child replied: "I dunno, missus; I 'spec's I done lost 'em, 'case heap of a while ago,

'fore you're born, I reckon, they call me Leshie, but Mas'r Hugh done

nickname me Muggins, and every folks do that now. You know Mas'r Hugh?

He done rared when he read you's comin'; do this way with his boot, 'By

George, Ad will sell the old hut yet without 'sultin' me,'" and the

little darky's fist came down upon the window sill in apt imitation of

her master.

A crimson flush overspread Alice's face as she wondered if it were

possible that the arrangements concerning her coming there had been made

without reference to Hugh's wishes.

"It may be, he was away," she sighed; then feeling an intense desire to

know more, and being only a woman and mortal, she said to Muggins

walking around her in circles, with her fat arms folded upon her bosom.

"Your master did not know I was coming till he returned from New Orleans

and found his mother's letter?"




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