black blood could destroy her very nature. I
know her love and goodness, and I won't
believe it."

"It's the opinion generally entertained, North
as well as South," replied Abel.

Mary turned earnestly to me, and prayed me
to discard the horrible theory. I had been good
and kind to her, she said, and she loved me so
much that she could not bear to know of a
thought like this having a place in my mind.

I could not deny my convictions, and the
subject was at last dropped; but I felt that I
had destroyed the bond of sympathy which
until then existed between us.

I don't think that I have mentioned the
extreme indulgence and tenderness which my
father showed towards me. My smallest wishes
and fancies were immediately gratified, and the
only return he seemed to desire was my company
and my presence near him. He delighted in
my singing and playing, overwhelming me with
praise, and always holding out as his reward a
speedy journey to Europe, and a happy life in
the old world.

All this time I became more and more
tyrannical, unreasonable, and petulant, in my
intercourse with the slaves. One evening my temper
was roused by one of the girls in the house
being more than usually careless and inattentive.
In my anger I struck her. She was much
fairer than any other of our slaves, and
consequently by far the most troublesome of all.

To my amazement she muttered a few words
in an under tone. These words drove me frantic,
but I mastered my feeling of indignation.
When I recovered myself, I told her she should
be severely punished for the insult she had shown
me, and in the greatest anger hurried down to
my father. He and Abel were smoking together
under the verandah. He perceived how greatly
I was moved, and drawing me towards him,
bade me tell him my grievance. It was
disgusting and painful to me even to whisper the
girl's words in his ear.

Yet, indignant and angry as I was, I felt
terrified by the excess of my father's rage.

"It shall be flogged out of her," he
exclaimed, "if the punishment goes within an
inch of her life. And all the niggers on the
plantation shall see it done."

It haunts my conscience to this day that I did
not fall on my knees and ask my father to spare
the girl. Her prayer for mercy rings in my
ears even now. You will marvel, notwithstanding
the greatness of my anger, that I could
allow a human being to suffer extreme pain for
the purpose of appeasing my wounded feelings;
you will naturally think that I was dead to every
generous and noble impulse. Yet you must
remember that I had just nursed Mary Evans,
who was a comparative stranger to me, at the
peril of my own life.

Abel had followed my father out, when the
girl was dragged away. He returned in about
half an hour. "Clara," said he, "we've taught
her not to say your mother was a slave, and she
wont forget the lesson in a hurry."

The tone in which he uttered this, nettled
me. "Abel!" I exclaimed, "good taste might
have prevented you from paining me by a
repetition of her words."

He offered me a very elaborate apology; but
I could see that a sneer remained on his lips.

I turned from him, and in my agitation I
drew from my bosom the minature-locket I was
accustomed to wear, and bursting into tears, I
exclaimed, "My dear fair beautiful mother to
be called a slave!"

"What's that?" cried Abel. "My aunt's
portrait? How did you get it?"

I said I had discovered it one day in my
father's desk. I had begged him as a great
favour to let me have it for my mother's sake.
He had refused his consent for a long time. At
last I had teased him into compliance.

My father entered the room. I tried to get
the locket away from Abel; but he held it
tight, on pretence of examining it carefully.

"Clara!" exclaimed my father, "you
promised me faithfully never to show that portrait
to any one."

"But only Abel, papa," I pleaded.

He said that he had expressed a strong wish
on the subject that—I had broken my promise—
and he ordered me instantly to restore the
locket.

I had been so accustomed to have my own
way, playing and trifling with any wishes of
his that thwarted mine, and always succeeding
in wheedling him in the end, that I refused to
give up the miniature. I ought to have
perceived how irritated the events of the night had
made him. He stepped forward, and, seizing my
hand, wrenched the locket from me; then, in
his anger at my opposition, he struck me a blow
with a switch he held in his hand.

The pain was scarcely anything; it was
the indignity and Abel standing by with a
smile of triumph! I wanted to say something,
but I was absolutely choked. If Abel had not
seen the blow, I think even on the instant I
could have humbled myself, and forgiven my
father, and asked his forgiveness. But to stoop
before my cousin! I left the room with
proud defiance, and hurrying to my own room,
locked the door, and threw myself on the bed.
After the lapse of half an hour, I heard a gentle
tap at the door, and my name pronounced with
tenderness. It was my father's voice. I felt
that he wanted to be reconciled with me. I
would have given worlds to have opened the
door and kissed him; but my wretched pride,
which told me I must resent the blow to uphold
my dignity in Abel's eyes, held me still.

Next morning I felt my father was longing
for reconciliation, but my thought of Abel's
triumph caused me to be cold and sullen.

It was strange that the man I so detested
should have stood thus between my father's
heart and mine. My feelings, too, at that time
were greatly excited against Abel by reports of
his conduct with one of the women on the
plantation. Far above my strongest sense of
morality was contempt for his degradation, and