“Make me an offer.”

“Five hundred dollars.”

“Five hundred? ridiculous! he’s worth twice that.”

“I think not, he is old—­not far from seventy and will soon be past work and only a burden and expense.  My offer is a good one.”

“Make it seven hundred and I’ll take it.”

Mr. Dinsmore considered a moment.  “That is too high,” he said at length, “but for the sake of making two poor creatures happy, I will give it.”

“Cash down?”

“Yes, a check on a New Orleans bank.”

“Please walk down into the cabin then, sir, and we’ll conclude the business at once.”

In a few moments Mr. Dinsmore returned to his daughter’s side, and placing the receipted bill of sale in her hands, asked, “Have I given too much?”

“Oh, no, papa, no indeed!  I should have given a thousand without a moment’s hesitation, if asked it—­five, ten thousand, if need be, rather than have them parted again,” she exclaimed, the bright tears shining in her eyes.  “Mammy, my poor old mammy, Uncle Joe belongs to me now, and you can have him always with you as long as the Lord spares your lives.”

“Now bress de Lord!” cried the old woman devoutly, raising her streaming eyes and clasped hands to heaven; “de good Lord dat hears de prayers ob His chilen’s cryin’ to Him when dere hearts is oberwhelmed!”

“Go break the news to Uncle Joe, mammy,” said Elsie; “see, yonder he stands looking so eager and wistful.”

Chloe hurried to his side, spoke a few rapid words; there was another long, clinging, tearful embrace, and they hastened to their master and mistress to pour out their thanks and blessings upon them, mingled with praises and fervent thanksgivings to the Giver of all good.

The joy and gratitude of the poor old couple were very sweet, very delightful to Elsie, and scarcely less so to her father.

“Mammy dear, I never saw you wear so happy a face,” Elsie said, as Chloe returned to her after an hour or two spent in close conversation with her newly recovered spouse.

“Ah, honey, your ole mammy tinks she neber so glad in all her life!” cried the poor old creature, clasping her hands together in an ecstasy of joy and gratitude while the big tears shone in her eyes.  “I’se got ole Uncle Joe back agin, an’ he not de same, he bettah man, Christian man.  He say, ’Aunt Chloe we uns trabble de same road now, honey:  young Joe proud, angry, swearing drinkin’ boy, your Ole Joe he lub de Lord an’ try to sarve Him wid all he might.  And de Lord good Massa.  De debbil berry bad one.’”

“Dear mammy, I am very glad for you; I think nothing else could have made you so happy.”

Chloe, weeping again for joy, went on to tell her young mistress that Uncle Joe had discovered a grandchild in New Orleans, Dinah by name, waiting-maid in a wealthy family.

“But how is that, mammy?  Papa and I thought all your children died young.”