“Oh, Carrie, what an idea!  You are so full of nonsense.  Which way will we go first?”

“First down to Carruther’s.  I saw a beautiful collar there I liked so much; and then let us go down to Mrs. Barguay’s.  I want to show you a love of a bonnet, one of the sweetest little things in ribbon, lace, and flowers I ever saw.”

Equipped for the journey the two friends sauntered down the street; as they were coming out of a store, Carrie stopped for a moment to speak to a very dear friend of her mother’s, and Minnie passed on.

As she went slowly on, loitering for her friend, she saw a woman approaching her from the opposite side of the street.  There was something in her look and manner which arrested the attention of Minnie.  She was a tall, slender woman about thirty five years old, with a pale, care-worn face—­a face which told that sorrow had pressed her more than years.  A few threads of silver mingled with the wealth of her raven hair, and her face, though wearing a sad and weary expression, still showed traces of great beauty.

As soon as her eyes fell on Minnie, she raised her hands in sudden wonder, and clasping her in her arms, exclaimed:  “Heaven is merciful!  I have found you, at last, my dear, darling, long-lost child.  Minnie, is this you, and have I found you at last?”

Minnie trembled from head to foot; a deadly pallor overspread her cheek, and she stood still as if rooted to the ground in silent amazement, while the woman stood anxiously watching her as if her future were hanging on the decision of her lips.

“Who are you? and where did you come from?” said Minnie, as soon as she gained her breath.

“I came from Louisiana.  Oh, I can’t be mistaken.  I have longed for you, and prayed for you, and now I have found you.”

Just then, Carrie, who had finished speaking with her friend, seeing Minnie and the strange woman talking together, exclaimed, “What is the matter?”

Noticing the agitation of her friend, “Who is this woman, and what has she said to you?”

“She says that she is my mother, my long-lost mother.”

“Why, Minnie, what nonsense!  She can’t be your mother.  Why don’t you see she is colored?”

“Where do you live?” said Minnie, without appearing to notice the words of Carrie.

“I don’t live anywhere.  I just came here yesterday with some of the Union soldiers.”

“Come with me then, and I will show you a place to stop.”

“Why, Minnie, you are not going to walk down the street with that Nig—­colored woman; if you are, please excuse me.  My business calls me another way.”

And without any more ceremony Carrie and Minnie parted.  Silently she walked by the side of the stranger, a thousand thoughts revolving in her mind.  Was this the solution of the mystery which enshrouded her young life?  Did she indeed belong to that doomed and hated race, and must she share the cruel treatment which bitter, relentless prejudice had assigned them?