There was a dress of blue delaine with tiny white dots, two pretty white aprons, the blue cape, and shoes and stockings, beside some of Sylvia’s part-worn underwear.  She had begged her mother to let her give the little darky these things, and Mrs. Fulton had been glad that her little daughter wished to do so.

“Estralla has never had anything,” Sylvia had urged, “and she is always afraid of something.  Of being whipped or sold.  And I would like to see her have clothes like other girls.”

Estralla wanted to try on the shoes at once, and when she found that they fitted very comfortably, she chuckled and laughed with delight.  Neither of the girls heard a rap at the door, and both were surprised when Aunt Connie, who had opened the door and stood waiting, exclaimed: 

“Fo’ lan’s sake!  Wat you lettin’ that darky dress up in you’ clo’es fer, Missy Sylvia?”

“They are her own clothes now, Aunt Connie,” Sylvia explained.  “My mother said I might give them to her.”

For a moment the negro woman stood silent.  Then she put her hands up to her face and began to cry, very quietly.  Estralla’s laughter vanished.  She wondered if her mammy was going to tell her that she could not keep the things.

“‘Scusie, Missy,” muttered Aunt Connie; “you’se an angel to my po’ little gal.  An’ I’se ’bliged to you.  But I’se feared the chile won’t wear ’em long.  Massa Robert Waite’s man sez he’s gwine sell her off right soon.”

“He cyan’t do no sech thing.  Missy Sylvia won’t let him,” declared Estralla, who was perfectly sure that “Missy Sylvia” could do whatever she wished.  With a pair of shoes on her feet and the blue cape over her shoulders Estralla had more courage.  Sylvia’s kindness had given the little colored girl a hope of happier days.

“Aunt Connie, I’ll do all I can for Estralla,” said Sylvia.

“Will you, Missy?  Then ask yo’ pa not to let Estralla be sold,” pleaded Aunt Connie.

Sylvia promised, and Aunt Connie went off smilingly.  But Sylvia wondered if her father could prevent Mr. Robert Waite from selling the negro girl.  “Estralla,” she said very soberly, “I have promised that you shall not be sold, and I will ask my father.  But if he cannot do anything, we will have to do something ourselves.  Will you do whatever I tell you?”

“Oh, yas indeed, Missy,” Estralla answered eagerly.

“Well, I’ll ask Father to-night.  And to-morrow morning you bring up my hot water, and I’ll tell you what he says.  But don’t be frightened, anyway,” said Sylvia.

“I ain’t skeered like I used to be,” responded Estralla.  “Yo’ see, Missy, I feels jes’ as if you was my true fr’en’.”

“I’ll try to be,” Sylvia promised.