This sentiment was wrought into their daily deportment to their servants; and the result was an harmonious relation between employer and employed, which it was beautiful to witness.  But there are skeletons hidden away in the happiest households.  Mrs. King had hers, and Tom and Chloe had theirs.  The death of Mr. Bell and the absence of Mrs. Fitzgerald left no one in Boston who would be likely to recognize them; but they knew that the Fugitive Slave Act was still in force, and though they relied upon Mr. King’s generosity in case of emergency, they had an uncomfortable feeling of not being free.  It was not so with Tulee.  She had got beyond Mount Pisgah into the Canaan of freedom; and her happiness was unalloyed.  Mr. King, though kind and liberal to all, regarded her with especial favor, on account of old associations.  The golden hoops had been taken from her ears when she was in the calaboose; but he had presented her with another pair, for he liked to have her look as she did when she opened for him that door in New Orleans, which had proved an entrance to the temple and palace of his life.  She felt herself to be a sort of prime minister in the small kingdom, and began to deport herself as one having authority.  No empress ever had more satisfaction in a royal heir than she had in watching her Benny trudging to school, with his spelling-book slung over his shoulder, in a green satchel Mrs. King had made for him.  The stylishness of the establishment was also a great source of pride to her; and she often remarked in the kitchen that she had always said gold was none too good for Missy Rosy to walk upon.  Apart from this consideration, she herself had an Oriental delight in things that were lustrous and gayly colored.  Tom had learned to read quite fluently, and was accustomed to edify his household companions with chapters from the Bible on Sunday evenings.  The descriptions of King Solomon’s splendor made a lively impression on Tulee’s mind.  When she dusted the spacious parlors, she looked admiringly at the large mirrors, the gilded circles of gas lights, and the great pictures framed in crimson and gold, and thought that the Temple of Solomon could not have been more grand.  She could scarcely believe Mrs. Delano was wealthy.  “She’s a beautiful lady,” said she to Flora; “but if she’s got plenty o’ money, what makes her dress so innocent and dull?  There’s Missy Rosy now, when she’s dressed for company, she looks like the Queen of Shebee.”

One morning Tulee awoke to look out upon a scene entirely new to her Southern eyes, and far surpassing anything she had imagined of the splendor of Solomon’s Temple.  On the evening previous, the air had been full of mist, which, as it grew colder, had settled on the trees of the Common, covering every little twig with a panoply of ice.  A very light snow had fallen softly during the night, and sprinkled the ice with a feathery fleece.  The trees, in this delicate white vesture, standing up against a dark blue sky, looked like the glorified spirits of trees.  Here and there, the sun touched them, and dropped a shower of diamonds.  Tulee gazed a moment in delighted astonishment, and ran to call Chloe, who exclaimed, “They looks like great white angels, and Ise feared they’ll fly away ’fore Missis gits up.”