’Lina wrote to Alice Johnson herself that morning, went to Frankfort that afternoon, to Versailles and Lexington the next day, and on the morning of the third day after the receipt of Mrs. Johnson’s letter, Spring Bank presented the appearance of one vast show-room, so full it was of silks and muslins and tissues and flowers and ribbons and laces, while amid it all, in a maze of perplexity as to what was required of her, or where first to commence, Adah Hastings sat, a flush on her fair cheeks, and a tear half dimming the luster of her eyes as thoughts of Willie crying for mamma at home, and refusing to be comforted even by old Sam came to her.

When ’Lina first made known her request to Adah, to act as her dressmaker, Aunt Eunice had objected, on the ground of Adah’s illness having been induced by overwork, but ’Lina insisted so strenuously, promising not to task her too much, and offering with an air of extreme generosity to pay three shillings a day, that Adah had consented, for pretty baby Willie wanted many little things which Hugh would never dream of, and for which she could not ask him.  Three shillings a day for twelve days or more seemed like a fortune to Adah, and so she tore herself away from Willie’s clinging arms and went willingly to labor for the capricious ’Lina, ten times more impatient and capricious since she “had come into possession of property.”

Womanlike, the sight of ’Lina’s dresses awoke in Adah a thrill of delight, and she entered heartily into the matter without a single feeling of envy.

“I’s goin’, too.  Did you know that?” Lulu said to her as she sat bending over a cloud of lace and soft blue silk.

“Do you want to go?” Adah asked, and Lulu replied: 

“Not much.  Miss ‘Lina will be so lofty.  Jes’ you listen and hear her call me oncet.  ‘Ho Loo-loo, come quick,’ jes’ as if she done nothin’ all her life but order a nigger ’round.  I knows better.  I knows how she done made her own bed, combed her own ha’r, and like enough washed her own rags afore she comed here.  Yes, ‘Loo-loo is coming,’” and the saucy wench darted off to ’Lina screaming loudly for her.

“Miss Worthington,” Adah said, timidly, as ’Lina came near, “Lulu tells me she is going North with you.  Why not take me instead of her?”

“You!” and ’Lina’s black eyes flashed scornfully.  “What in the world could I do with you and that child, and what would people think?  Why, I’d rather have Lulu forty times.  A negro gives an eclat to one’s position which a white servant cannot.  By the way, here is Miss Tiffton’s square-necked bertha.  She’s just got home from New York, and says they are all the fashion.  You are to cut me a pattern.  There’s a paper, the Louisville Journal, I guess, but nobody reads it, now Hugh is gone,” and with a few more general directions, ’Lina hurried away leaving Adah so hot, so disappointed, that the hot tears fell upon the paper she took in her hand, the paper containing Anna Richards’ advertisement, intended solely for the poor girl sitting so lonely and sad at Spring Bank that summer morning.