Again she folded him in her arms, and they kissed and blessed each other at parting.  She gazed after him wistfully till he was out of sight.  “Alas!” murmured she, “he cannot be a son to me, and I cannot be a mother to him.”  She recalled the lonely, sad hours when she embroidered his baby clothes, with none but Tulee to sympathize with her.  She remembered how the little black silky head looked as she first fondled him on her arm; and the tears began to flow like rain.  But she roused in a few moments, saying to herself:  “This is all wrong and selfish.  I ought to be glad that he loves his Lily-mother, that he can live with her, and that her heart will not be made desolate by my fault.  O Father of mercies! this is hard to bear.  Help me to bear it as I ought!” She bowed her head in silence for a while; then, rising up, she said:  “Have I not my lovely Eulalia?  Poor child!  I must be very tender with her in this trial of her young heart.”

She saw there was need to be very tender, when a farewell card was sent the next day, with a bouquet of delicate flowers from Gerald Fitzgerald.

CHAPTER XXXII.

The next morning after these conversations, Mrs. Blumenthal, who was as yet unconscious of the secret they had revealed, was singing in the garden, while she gathered some flowers for her vases.  Mr. Bright, who was cutting up weeds, stopped and listened, keeping time on the handle of his hoe.  When Flora came up to him, she glanced at the motion of his fingers and smiled.  “Can’t help it, ma’am,” said he.  “When I hear your voice, it’s as much as ever I can do to keep from dancing; but if I should do that, I should shock my neighbor the Deacon.  Did you see the stage stop there, last night?  They’ve got visitors from Carolina,—­his daughter, and her husband and children.  I reckon I stirred him up yesterday.  He came to my shop to pay for some shoeing he’d had done.  So I invited him to attend our anti-slavery meeting to-morrow evening.  He took it as an insult, and said he didn’t need to be instructed by such sort of men as spoke at our meetings.  ’I know some of us are what they call mudsills down South,’ said I; ’but it might do you good to go and hear ’em, Deacon.  When a man’s lamp’s out, it’s better to light it by the kitchen fire than to go blundering about in the dark, hitting himself against everything.’  He said we should find it very convenient if we had slaves here; for Northern women were mere beasts of burden.  I told him that was better than to be beasts of prey.  I thought afterward I wasn’t very polite.  I don’t mean to go headlong against other folks’ prejudices; but the fact is, a man never knows with what impetus he is going till he comes up against a post.  I like to see a man firm as a rock in his opinions.  I have a sort of a respect for a rock, even if it is a little mossy.  But when I come across a post, I like to give it a shaking, to find out whether it’s rotten at the foundation.  As to things in general, I calculate to be an obliging neighbor; but I shall keep a lookout on these Carolina folks.  If they’ve brought any blacks with ’em, I shall let ’em know what the laws of Massachusetts are; and then they may take their freedom or not, just as they choose.”