At the rear of the building was a long, low room, containing a fireplace and two windows, which looked out upon the negro quarters and the hemp fields beyond.  This room, which in the summer was used for storing feather-beds, blankets, and so forth, was plastered, but minus either paper or paint.  Still it was quite comfortable, “better than they were accustomed to at home,” Mrs. Livingstone said, and this she decided to give them.  Accordingly the negroes were set at work scrubbing the floor, washing the windows, and scouring the sills, until the room at least possessed the virtue of being clean.  A faded carpet, discarded as good for nothing, and over which the rats had long held their nightly revels, was brought to light, shaken, mended, and nailed down—­then came a bedstead, which Mrs. Livingstone had designed as a Christmas gift to one of the negroes, but which of course would do well enough for her mother-in-law.  Next followed an old wooden rocking-chair, whose ancestry Anna had tried in vain to trace, and which Carrie had often proposed burning.  This, with two or three more chairs of a later date, a small wardrobe, and a square table, completed the furniture of the room, if we except the plain muslin curtains which shaded the windows, destitute of blinds.  Taking it by itself, the room looked tolerably well, but when compared with the richly furnished apartments around it, it seemed meager and poor indeed; “but if they wanted anything better, they could get it themselves.  They were welcome to make any alterations they chose.”

This mode of reasoning hardly satisfied Anna, and unknown to her mother she took from her own chamber a handsome hearth-rug, and carrying it to her grandmother’s room, laid it before the fireplace.  Coming accidentally upon a roll of green paper, she, with the help of Corinda, a black girl, made some shades for the windows, which faced the west, rendering the room intolerably hot during the summer season.  Then, at the suggestion of Corinda, she looped back the muslin curtains with some green ribbons, which she had intended using for her “dolly’s dress.”  The bare appearance of the table troubled her, but by rummaging, she brought to light a cast-off spread, which, though soiled and worn, was on one side quite handsome.

“Now, if we only had something for the mantel,” said she; “it seems so empty.”

Corinda thought a moment, then rolling up the whites of her eyes, replied, “Don’t you mind them little pitchers” (meaning vases) “which Master Atherton done gin you?  They’d look mighty fine up thar, full of sprigs and posies.”

Without hesitating a moment Anna brought the vases, and as she did not know the exact time when her grandmother would arrive, she determined to fill them with fresh flowers every morning.

“There, it looks a heap better, don’t it, Carrie?” said she to her sister, who chanced to be passing the door and looked in.

“You must be smart,” answered Carrie, “taking so much pains just for them; and as I live, if you haven’t got those elegant vases that Captain Atherton gave you for a birthday present!  I know mother won’t like it.  I mean to tell her;” and away she ran with the important news.