“And if we suffer from any error this race commit, we must remember it is our own people who have brought it to us,” said he.  “Africa never would have come to us.”

Mr. Benton, apparently nettled, said: 

“I imagine you would not enjoy a drove of these people in your care.  I had a little taste of the South during two years of my life, and my word for it, Louis, they are not attractive creatures to be tormented with.  They are a perfect set of stubborn stupidities, and driving is the only thing to suit them, depend on it.”

Louis looked more than he said, only recalling that the blame for this could not rest on the slave alone.  “I do not imagine I could enjoy slave-owning.  I feel the majority of slave-owners lower themselves until they stand beneath the level of the brutes.”

Father said, “It is all wrong.”

Aunt Hildy added, “All kind of bondage is ungodly, and the days will bring some folks to knowledge.”

“Out of the depth into the light,” said Clara, and our meal was over.

The days flew by on wings, each wing a promise, and it was a week after we plighted our vows ere I felt ready to read that letter and hear what Louis had to say.  Then something came to prevent, and another week had passed when Louis said: 

“My Emily, I must have a talk with your father and mother.  I cannot feel quite satisfied, and it is only right they should be consulted, for you are their own good girl.  I would wait for their hearts to say, ’take her,’ if I waited years, but then, my Emily, it is neither giving nor taking, for every change that is right does not ask us ever to give ourselves or our loved ones away.  I dislike that term.”

“You may wait, Louis; I will tell mother, and she can tell father.”

“No, no, Emily!  It is I who ask for your hand, and is it not my privilege as well as duty?”

“What a strange man you are growing to be, Louis!  Hal couldn’t bear the thought of telling mother or father his heart affairs, and I was the medium of communication between them.”

“He feels differently about it,” said Louis, “and yet he has the tenderest heart I ever knew within the breast of a man.”

“He is a good brother, Louis.  I could not ask a better.”

“Nor find one if you did.”

At that moment Matthias came in.  Taking off his hat and saluting us in his accustomed way, he said: 

“’Pears like I’ll have to ask some of yere to go out in de woods a piece—­thar’s a queer looking gal out thar, an’ she’s mighty nigh froze to death; she is, sartin.”

“Where is she, Matthias?”

“Clean over thar; quite a piece, miss.”

“Near any house?” I said.

“Wall, miss, she mout be two or three good steps from that thar brick-colored house.”

“Oh, clear over there?  Well,” I said, “I’ll go over if Lou Desmonde will go with me.”

“I will go, only never call me that again.  Matthias calls me Mas’r Louis, and he says I remind him of a mighty nice fellow down in South Carliny,” said Louis.