Sylvia began to think that a world without school was going to be a very pleasant world after all.  She was sure that it would be great fun to teach Estralla, and to have lessons with her mother was even better than reciting to pretty Miss Rosalie; and, beside this, her best friends were coming to supper the next night, so she had many pleasant things to think of, which was exactly what her mother had planned.  Her father had said that she might ask Grace to go sailing with them in the Butterfly in a day or two; and now Sylvia resolved to ask if she might not ask Flora as well, and perhaps Estralla could go, too.  So it was no wonder that she ran up-stairs singing: 

“There’s a good time coming, It’s almost here,”—­

greatly to the satisfaction of her father and mother, who had feared that she would be very unhappy over the school affair.  They were sorry it had happened, but they could not blame Sylvia.

“Oh, Missy Sylvia, here I is,” and as Sylvia set her candle on the table, Estralla stood smiling before her.

“Oh!” exclaimed Sylvia with such surprise that the little darky looked at her wonderingly.

“Yo’ tells me to come, an’ here I is,” she repeated.  “You tells me,” and Estralla sniffed as if ready to give her usual wails, “that you’se gwine to stop my bein’ sold off from my mammy.  How you gwine to stop it, Missy?”

For a moment Sylvia was tempted to tell Estralla that it couldn’t be helped, as long as South Carolina believed in slavery.  But Estralla’s sad eyes and pleading look made her resolve again to protect this little slave girl against injustice.  So she replied quickly: 

“That is my secret.  But don’t you worry.  Some day, very soon, I shall tell you all about it.  You know, Estralla, that you need not be afraid.  And what do you think!  I am not going to school any more.”

Estralla’s face had brightened.  She was always quite ready to smile, but she could not understand why Sylvia had wanted her to come so mysteriously to her room.

“And I am going to teach you to read and write,” Sylvia added.

“Is you, Missy?” Estralla responded in a half-frightened whisper.  Now, she thought, she knew all about Missy Sylvia’s reasons for the secret visit.  For very few slave-owners allowed anyone to teach the slaves to read and write.  Estralla knew this, and it seemed a wonderful thing that Missy Sylvia proposed.

“I’ll tell you all about it to-morrow morning,” said Sylvia; “now run away,” and with a chuckle of delight Estralla closed the door softly behind her.  She had been quite ready to run away with Missy Sylvia when she had crept up the stairs earlier in the evening.  But to stay safely with her mammy and learn to read seemed a much happier plan to the little darky.  If she could read and write!  Why, it would be almost as wonderful as it would to be a little white girl, she thought.