Chloe could not speak, but she took the little form again in her arms, and pressed it to her bosom in a close and fond embrace, while they mingled their tears and sobs together.

But Elsie started up suddenly.

“I will go to papa!” she exclaimed; “I will beg him on my knees to let you stay!  I will tell him it will kill me to be parted from my dear old mammy.”

“‘Tain’t no use, darlin’!  Massa Horace, he say I must go; an’ you know what dat means, well as I do,” said Chloe, shaking her head mournfully; “he won’t let me stay, nohow.”

“But I must try, mammy,” Elsie answered, moving toward the door.  “I think papa loves me a little yet, and maybe he will listen.”

But she met a servant in the hall who told her that her father had gone out, and that she heard him say he would not return before tea-time.

And Chloe was to go directly after dinner; so there was no hope of a reprieve, nothing to do but submit as best they might to the sad necessity of parting; and Elsie went back to her room again, to spend the little time that remained in her nurse’s arms, sobbing out her bitter grief upon her breast.  It was indeed a hard, hard trial to them both; yet neither uttered one angry or complaining word against Mr. Dinsmore.

Fanny, one of the maids, brought up Elsie’s dinner, but she could not eat.  Chloe’s appetite, too, had failed entirely; so they remained locked in each other’s embrace until Jim came to the door to tell Chloe the carriage was waiting which was to convey her to her new home.

Once more she strained her nursling to her breast, sobbing out the words:  “Good-by, darlin’! de good Lord bless an’ keep you forebber an’ ebber, an’ nebber leave you alone.”

“Oh, mammy, mammy, don’t leave me!” almost shrieked the child, clinging to her with a convulsive grasp.

“Don’t now, darlin’! don’t go for to break dis ole heart!  You knows I must go,” said Chloe, gently disengaging herself.  “We’ll ask de Lord to bring us together again soon, dear chile, an’ I think he will ’fore long,” she whispered in Elsie’s ear; and with another fond caress she left her all drowned in tears, and half fainting with grief.

An hour might have passed—­it seemed longer than that to Elsie—­when the door opened, and she started up from the sofa, where she had flung herself in the first abandonment of her sorrow.  But it was only Fanny, come to tell her that Jim had brought her horse to the door, and to prepare her for her ride.

She quietly submitted to being dressed; but, ah! how strange it seemed to have any other than Chloe’s hands busy about her!  It swelled her young heart wellnigh to bursting, though Fanny, who evidently understood her business well, was very kind and attentive, and full of unobtrusive sympathy and love for her young charge.

The brisk ride in the fresh air did Elsie good, and she returned quite calm and composed, though still very sad.