So, leading Rocket with one hand, and steadying Sam with the other, Hugh

got on but slowly, and 'Lina had looked for him many times ere she spied

him from the window as he came up the lawn.

"Who is he, and what did you get him for?" Mrs. Worthington asked, as

Hugh led Sam into the dining-room.

Briefly Hugh explained to her why he had bought the negro.

"It was foolish, I suppose, but I'm not sorry yet," he added, glancing

toward the corner where the poor old man was sitting, warming his

shriveled hands by the cheerful fire, and muttering to himself blessings

on "young mas'r."

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But for the remembrance of her dress, 'Lina would have stormed, but as

it was, she held her peace, and even asked Sam some trivial question

concerning his former owners. Supper had been delayed for Hugh, and as

he took his seat at the table, he inquired after Adah.

"Pretty well when I left," said his mother, adding that Lulu had been

there since, and reported her as looking pale and worn, while Aunt

Eunice seemed worried with Willie, who was inclined to be fretful.

"They need some one," Hugh said, refusing the coffee his mother passed

him on the plea that he did not feel like drinking it to-night. "They

need one of the servants. Can't you spare Lulu?"

Mrs. Worthington did not know, but 'Lina, to whom Lulu was a kind of

waiting maid, took the matter up alone, and said: "Indeed they couldn't. There was no one at Spring Bank more useful, and

it was preposterous for Hugh to think of giving their best servant to

Adah Hastings. Let her take care of her baby herself. She guessed it

wouldn't hurt her. Anyway, they couldn't afford to keep a servant for

her."

With a long-drawn sigh, Hugh finished his supper, and was about lighting

his cigar when he felt some one touching him, and turning around he saw

that Sam had grasped his coat. The negro had heard the conversation, and

drawn correct conclusions. His new master was not rich. He could not

afford to buy him, and having bought him could not afford to keep him.

There was a sigh in the old man's heart, as he thought how useless he

was, but when he heard about the baby, his spirits arose at once. In all

the world there was nothing so precious to Sam as a child, a little

white child, with waxen hands to pat his old black face, and his work

was found.

"Mas'r," he whispered, "Sam kin take keer that baby. He knows how, and

the little children in Georgy, whar I comed from, used to be mighty fond

of Sam. I'll tend to the young lady, too. Is she yourn, mas'r?"




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