After a few weeks passed with the colored washerwoman, she was placed with an elderly French widow, who was glad to eke out her small income by taking motherly care of her, and giving her instruction in music and French.  The caste to which she belonged on the mother’s side was rigorously excluded from schools, therefore it was not easy to obtain for her a good education in the English branches.  These Alfred took upon himself; and a large portion of his evenings was devoted to hearing her lessons in geography, arithmetic, and history.  Had any one told him, a year before, that hours thus spent would have proved otherwise than tedious, he would not have believed it.  But there was a romantic charm about this secret treasure, thus singularly placed at his disposal; and the love and gratitude he inspired gradually became a necessity of his life.  Sometimes he felt sad to think that the time must come when she would cease to be a child, and when the quiet, simple relation now existing between them must necessarily change.  He said to the old French lady, “By and by, when I can afford it, I will send her to one of the best schools at the North.  There she can become a teacher and take care of herself.”  Madame Labasse smiled, shrugged her shoulders, and said, “Nous verrons.”  She did not believe it.

The years glided on, and all went prosperously with the young merchant.  Through various conflicts with himself, his honorable resolution remained unbroken.  Loo Loo was still his sister.  She had become completely entwined with his existence.  Life would have been very dull without her affectionate greetings, her pleasant little songs, and the graceful dances she had learned to perform so well.  Sometimes, when he had passed a peculiarly happy evening in this fashion, Madame Labasse would look mischievous, and say, “But when do you think you shall send her to that school?” True, she did not often repeat this experiment; for whenever she did it, the light went out of his countenance, as if an extinguisher were placed upon his soul.  “I ought to do it,” he said within himself; “but how can I live without her?” The French widow was the only person aware how romantic and how serious was this long episode in his life.  Some gentlemen, whom he frequently met in business relations, knew that he had purchased a young slave, whom he had placed with a French woman to be educated; but had he told them the true state of the case, they would have smiled incredulously.  Occasionally, they uttered some joke about the fascination which made him so indifferent to cards and horses; but the reserve with which he received such jests checked conversation on the subject, and all, except Mr. Grossman, discontinued such attacks, after one or two experiments.