the child rapidly grew in grace and in favor with the family and neighborhood.  At the age of womanhood, she was, by her own request, baptized, and became a member of the Christian church in the place; and showed so much intelligence, activity and zeal, and desire to do good in the world, that she was at last recommended, and approved as a missionary to one of the stations in Africa; and we have heard that the same activity and ingenuity which, when a child, made her so multiform and restless in her developments, is now employed, in a safer and wholesomer manner, in teaching the children of her own country.

P.S.—­It will be a satisfaction to some mother, also, to state, that some inquiries, which were set on foot by Madame de Thoux, have resulted recently in the discovery of Cassy’s son.  Being a young man of energy, he had escaped, some years before his mother, and been received and educated by friends of the oppressed in the north.  He will soon follow his family to Africa.

CHAPTER XLIV

The Liberator

George Shelby had written to his mother merely a line, stating the day that she might expect him home.  Of the death scene of his old friend he had not the heart to write.  He had tried several times, and only succeeded in half choking himself; and invariably finished by tearing up the paper, wiping his eyes, and rushing somewhere to get quiet.

There was a pleased bustle all though the Shelby mansion, that day, in expectation of the arrival of young Mas’r George.

Mrs. Shelby was seated in her comfortable parlor, where a cheerful hickory fire was dispelling the chill of the late autumn evening.  A supper-table, glittering with plate and cut glass, was set out, on whose arrangements our former friend, old Chloe, was presiding.

Arrayed in a new calico dress, with clean, white apron, and high, well-starched turban, her black polished face glowing with satisfaction, she lingered, with needless punctiliousness, around the arrangements of the table, merely as an excuse for talking a little to her mistress.

“Laws, now! won’t it look natural to him?” she said.  “Thar,—­I set his plate just whar he likes it round by the fire.  Mas’r George allers wants de warm seat.  O, go way!—­why didn’t Sally get out de best tea-pot,—­de little new one, Mas’r George got for Missis, Christmas?  I’ll have it out!  And Missis has heard from Mas’r George?” she said, inquiringly.

“Yes, Chloe; but only a line, just to say he would be home tonight, if he could,—­that’s all.”

“Didn’t say nothin’ ’bout my old man, s’pose?” said Chloe, still fidgeting with the tea-cups.

“No, he didn’t.  He did not speak of anything, Chloe.  He said he would tell all, when he got home.”

“Jes like Mas’r George,—­he’s allers so ferce for tellin’ everything hisself.  I allers minded dat ar in Mas’r George.  Don’t see, for my part, how white people gen’lly can bar to hev to write things much as they do, writin’ ‘s such slow, oneasy kind o’ work.”