“Oh, no!” I said, “Mrs. Desmonde is the most blessed of all women.”

“So she is, but here she comes,” and again Jane sat covered with new dignity.  It was rather a heavy covering, but I thought of Clara’s philosophy and said to myself, “Another batch of scandal pushed aside.”  This way of Clara’s to help people educate themselves to rise above the conditions which were to them as clinging chains, was to me beautiful.  If all could understand it, it would not be long before our lives would unfold so differently. “Emily will help me.” These words came full often before me, and now if I could only see my way through the difficulties which entangled me, then my hands would, perhaps, led by her, touch some strings which might vibrate sweetly.  Then, and not till then, could I be satisfied, and unconscious of any presence, I sang aloud: 

“How long, oh, Lord! how long?”

“Dat’s de berry song I used to sing down thar, an’ I dunno as I could ’spected any sooner,” said Matthias, who came in unexpectedly.

“Oh, Matthias!” I said, “do you know I believe your people will all go free?”

And his large, honest eyes opened widely, as he said: 

“‘Way down in yer, I feel sometimes like I see freedom comin’ right down on de wings of a savin’ angel, and den I sings down in dat yer grown’ room, Miss; I sings dat ole cabin-meetin’ song, ‘Jes’ lemme get on my long white robe, and ride in dat golden chariot in de mornin’ right straight to New Je-ru-sa-lem.’  ’Pears like I get great notions, Miss Emily.”

“The Lord will hear you as well as me, Matthias, and some day slavery will die.  What a good time there will be then above there,” said I, pointing upward.

“Yes,” said he, “good for de righteous, but dat old Mas’r Sumner, he’ll jes’ be down thar ’mong dem red-hot coals.”

“Oh, Matthias!” I said, “there are no red-hot coals.”

“Sure, Miss, I dunno but dat ‘pears like I can’t hab hevin’ wid dat man thar.”

“He will be changed and good.”

“Can’t think so.  Dat man needs dat fire; preachin’ could’nt do him no good, noway.”

“We will agree to let each other think as they feel, but our Father must love all his children.”

“Ef dat’s so,” said he thoughtfully, “I hope he’ll hab more’n one room for us, rather be mos’ anywhar dan in sight ob dat man,” and he trudged off with his literal Heaven and Hades before him.

Poor ignorant heart! let him hold to these thoughts; he cannot dream of a love so liberal as that which delights my heart to think of; he cannot know that we, being God’s children, must inherit some of his eternal goodness, and that little leaven within will be the salvation of us all through time that knows no end.  Poor Matthias! his eyes will be opened over there; and tears filled my own at the glorious prospect waiting.  He was living in his ground room truly.