“What are you thinking of, Garie?” asked his wife, looking up into his face.  “I hope I have not vexed you by what I’ve said.”

“Oh, no, dear, not at all.  I was only thinking whether you would be any happier if I acceded to your wishes and removed to the North.  Here you live in good style—­you have a luxurious home, troops of servants to wait upon you, a carriage at your disposal.  In fact, everything for which you express a desire.”

“I know all that, Garie, and what I am about to say may seem ungrateful, but believe me, dear, I do not mean it to be so.  I had much rather live on crusts and wear the coarsest clothes, and work night and day to earn them, than live here in luxury, wearing gilded chains.  Carriages and fine clothes cannot create happiness.  I have every physical comfort, and yet my heart is often heavy—­oh, so very heavy; I know I am envied by many for my fine establishment; yet how joyfully would I give it all up and accept the meanest living for the children’s freedom—­and your love.”

“But, Emily, granted we should remove to the North, you would find annoyances there as well as here.  There is a great deal of prejudice existing there against people of colour, which, often exposes them to great inconveniences.”

“Yes, dear, I know all that; I should expect that.  But then on the other hand, remember what George said respecting the coloured people themselves; what a pleasant social circle they form, and how intelligent many of them are!  Oh, Garie, how I have longed for friends!—­we have visitors now and then, but none that I can call friends.  The gentlemen who come to see you occasionally are polite to me, but, under existing circumstances, I feel that they cannot entertain for me the respect I think I deserve.  I know they look down upon and despise me because I’m a coloured woman.  Then there would be another advantage; I should have some female society—­here I have none.  The white ladies of the neighbourhood will not associate with me, although I am better educated, thanks to your care, than many of them, so it is only on rare occasions, when I can coax some of our more cultivated coloured acquaintances from Savannah to pay us a short visit, that I have any female society, and no woman can be happy without it.  I have no parents, nor yet have you.  We have nothing we greatly love to leave behind—­no strong ties to break, and in consequence would be subjected to no great grief at leaving.  If I only could persuade you to go!” said she, imploringly.

“Well, Emily,” replied he, in an undecided manner, “I’ll think about it.  I love you so well, that I believe I should be willing to make any sacrifice for your happiness.  But it is getting damp and chilly, and you know,” said he, smiling, “you must be more than usually careful of yourself now.”