on the little black face turned toward her.  In it there was nothing of envy, nothing of regret; nothing but worship for the beautiful white lady—­she was not especially handsome, but to Sophy her beauty was almost divine—­who had come to teach her.  If Miss Myrover dropped a book, Sophy was the first to spring and pick it up; if she wished a chair moved, Sophy seemed to anticipate her wish; and so of all the numberless little services that can be rendered in a schoolroom.

Miss Myrover was fond of flowers, and liked to have them about her.  The children soon learned of this taste of hers, and kept the vases on her desk filled with blossoms during their season.  Sophy was perhaps the most active in providing them.  If she could not get garden flowers, she would make excursions to the woods in the early morning, and bring in great dew-laden bunches of bay, or jasmine, or some other fragrant forest flower which she knew the teacher loved.

“When I die, Sophy,” Miss Myrover said to the child one day, “I want to be covered with roses.  And when they bury me, I ’m sure I shall rest better if my grave is banked with flowers, and roses are planted at my head and at my feet.”

Miss Myrover was at first amused at Sophy’s devotion; but when she grew more accustomed to it, she found it rather to her liking.  It had a sort of flavor of the old regime, and she felt, when she bestowed her kindly notice upon her little black attendant, some of the feudal condescension of the mistress toward the slave.  She was kind to Sophy, and permitted her to play the role she had assumed, which caused sometimes a little jealousy among the other girls.  Once she gave Sophy a yellow ribbon which she took from her own hair.  The child carried it home, and cherished it as a priceless treasure, to be worn only on the greatest occasions.

Sophy had a rival in her attachment to the teacher, but the rivalry was altogether friendly.  Miss Myrover had a little dog, a white spaniel, answering to the name of Prince.  Prince was a dog of high degree, and would have very little to do with the children of the school; he made an exception, however, in the case of Sophy, whose devotion for his mistress he seemed to comprehend.  He was a clever dog, and could fetch and carry, sit up on his haunches, extend his paw to shake hands, and possessed several other canine accomplishments.  He was very fond of his mistress, and always, unless shut up at home, accompanied her to school, where he spent most of his time lying under the teacher’s desk, or, in cold weather, by the stove, except when he would go out now and then and chase an imaginary rabbit round the yard, presumably for exercise.