While waiting for the carriage, Chloe and her children were brought in.  Flora took the little ones under her care, and soon had their aprons filled with cakes and sugarplums.  Chloe, unable to restrain her feelings, dropped down on her knees in the midst of the questions they were asking her, and poured forth an eloquent prayer that the Lord would bless these good friends of her down-trodden people.

When the carriage arrived, she rose, and, taking Mrs. Delano’s hand, said solemnly:  “De Lord bress yer, Missis!  De Lord bress yer!  I seed yer once fore ebber I knowed yer.  I seed yer in a vision, when I war prayin’ to de Lord to open de free door fur me an’ my chillen.  Ye war an angel wid white shiny wings.  Bress de Lord!  ’T war Him dat sent yer.—­An’ now, Missy Flory, de Lord bress yer!  Ye war allers good to poor Chloe, down dar in de prison-house.  Let me gib yer a kiss, little Missy.”

Flora threw her arms round the bended neck, and promised to go and see her wherever she was.

When the carriage rolled away, emotion kept them both silent for a few minutes.  “How strange it seems to me now,” said Mrs. Delano, “that I lived so many years without thinking of the wrongs of these poor people!  I used to think prayer-meetings for slaves were very fanatical and foolish.  It seemed to me enough that they were included in our prayer for ‘all classes and conditions of men’; but after listening to poor Chloe’s eloquent outpouring, I am afraid such generalizing will sound rather cold.”

“Mamita,” said Flora, “you know you gave me some money to buy a silk dress.  Are you willing I should use it to buy clothes for Chloe and her children?”

“More than willing, my child,” she replied.  “There is no clothing so beautiful as the raiment of righteousness.”

The next morning, Flora went out to make her purchases.  Some time after, Mrs. Delano, hearing voices near the door, looked out, and saw her in earnest conversation with Florimond Blumenthal, who had a large parcel in his arms.  When she came in, Mrs. Delano said, “So you had an escort home?”

“Yes, Mamita,” she replied; “Florimond would bring the parcel, and so we walked together.”

“He was very polite,” said Mrs. Delano; “but ladies are not accustomed to stand on the doorstep talking with clerks who bring bundles for them.”

“I didn’t think anything about that,” rejoined Flora.  “He wanted to know about Rosa, and I wanted to tell him.  Florimond seems just like a piece of my old home, because he loved papa so much.  Mamita Lila, didn’t you say papa was a poor clerk when you and he first began to love one another?”

“Yes, my child,” she replied; and she kissed the bright, innocent face that came bending over her, looking so frankly into hers.

When she had gone out of the room, Mrs. Delano said to herself, “That darling child, with her strange history and unworldly ways, is educating me more than I can educate her.”