“Then I’ll be your maid, won’t I, Missy Sylvia?” chuckled the little darky with proud delight, “an’ I’ll allers go whar yo’ goes, like Missy Flora Hayes’ mammy does.”

“Why, yes, I suppose you will,” agreed Sylvia.

Sylvia had meant to tell her mother and father of her plan about Estralla at breakfast time, but her father was just leaving the dining-room when she came in.

“Are you going to ask your little friends to go out in the Butterfly this afternoon?” he asked.  “If you want to go to the forts you must be on hand early.”

“I’ll ask them right away after breakfast, before they start for school,” Sylvia promised eagerly.  She was glad that she could go to the forts again, and tell Mrs. Carleton that she had given the letter to Mr. Doane.  This filled her thoughts for the moment, so she quite forgot about her plan to employ Estralla, especially as her mother had decided that lessons would not begin until the following week.

It had seemed to Mrs. Fulton that her little daughter was tired, and not as well as usual, and she was glad that the sailing expedition would take her out for a long afternoon on the water.

Sylvia ate her breakfast hurriedly, and ran upstairs for her cape and hat, to find Estralla waiting just inside the door of her room.

“Wat yo’ mammy say ‘bout my bein’ yo’ maid?” questioned the little darky.

“Oh, it will be all right.  I am going to ask Grace and Flora to go sailing this afternoon, and I’ll keep on to Mr. Robert Waite’s and have it all settled this morning,” Sylvia replied, putting on her pretty new hat.

“You may come, too,” she added.

“Yas, Missy.  Wat yo’ reckon Massa Robert gwine to say?” questioned Estralla earnestly.

“I think I will take the money,” Sylvia said, not answering Estralla’s question; “then Mr. Waite will be sure that I can pay him.”

Mrs. Fulton saw Sylvia, closely followed by Estralla, running across the garden toward the house where Grace Waite lived.

“Poor little darky!  What will she do when Sylvia goes north?” she thought.  For Mr. Fulton had told her that very morning that he was sure South Carolina would secede from the Union, and then northern men would no longer be welcome in Charleston.  That meant of course that the Fultons would have to return to Boston, if that were possible, but all communication with northern states might be prevented.  It was no wonder that Mr. and Mrs. Fulton were anxious and worried.

Grace was ready to start for school when Sylvia and Estralla arrived, and her mother gave her consent at once for her to go sailing in the afternoon.

“The Christmas holidays will soon be here, so a half day out of school will not matter,” Mrs. Waite said smilingly, and gave Grace a note for Miss Patten.

“I’ll walk to Flora’s with you,” said Grace.  “Now, Sylvia, own up that you think Charleston is nicer than Boston.  Why, it is all ice and snow and cold weather up there, and here it is warm and pleasant.  You couldn’t go sailing if you were in Boston to-day,” she added laughingly.