“How did you succeed?” asked Mrs. Cloten of her husband, when he returned to dinner.

“Admirably!  ‘Everything is lovely and the goose hangs high.’  I gave my employes to understand that they could leave if they did not wish to work with Miss Leroy.  Not one of them left, or showed any disposition to rebel.”

“I am very glad,” said Mrs. Cloten.  “I am ashamed of the way she has been treated in our city, when seeking to do her share in the world’s work.  I am glad that you were brave enough to face this cruel prejudice, and give her a situation.”

“Well, my dear, do not make me a hero for a single act.  I am grateful for the care Miss Leroy gave our Daisy.  Money can buy services, but it cannot purchase tender, loving sympathy.  I was also determined to let my employes know that I, not they, commanded my business.  So, do not crown me a hero until I have won a niche in the temple of fame.  In dealing with Southern prejudice against the negro, we Northerners could do it with better grace if we divested ourselves of our own.  We irritate the South by our criticisms, and, while I confess that there is much that is reprehensible in their treatment of colored people, yet if our Northern civilization is higher than theirs we should ‘criticise by creation.’  We should stamp ourselves on the South, and not let the South stamp itself on us.  When we have learned to treat men according to the complexion of their souls, and not the color of their skins, we will have given our best contribution towards the solution of the negro problem.”

“I feel, my dear,” said Mrs. Cloten, “that what you have done is a right step in the right direction, and I hope that other merchants will do the same.  We have numbers of business men, rich enough to afford themselves the luxury of a good conscience.”

CHAPTER XXV.

AN OLD FRIEND.

“Good-morning, Miss Leroy,” said a cheery voice in tones of glad surprise, and, intercepting her path, Dr. Gresham stood before Iola, smiling, and reaching out his hand.

“Why, Dr. Gresham, is this you?” said Iola, lifting her eyes to that well-remembered face.  “It has been several years since we met.  How have you been all this time, and where?”

“I have been sick, and am just now recovering from malaria and nervous prostration.  I am attending a medical convention in this city, and hope that I shall have the pleasure of seeing you again.”

Iola hesitated, and then replied:  “I should be pleased to have you call.”

“It would give me great pleasure.  Where shall I call?”

“My home is 1006 South Street, but I am only at home in the evenings.”

They walked together a short distance till they reached Mr. Cloten’s store; then, bidding the doctor good morning, Iola left him repeating to himself the words of his favorite poet:—­

    “Thou art too lovely and precious a gem
      To be bound to their burdens and sullied by them.”