I could not endure the thought of being humbled
in the presence of a man I so heartily despised.
I little knew how Abel was taking advantage
of my conduct towards my father to work out his
own wicked purpose.

At length I was ashamed of my wilful
perversity, and eagerly courted a reconciliation;
then, to my sorrow, I was met with coldness
instead of the warmth I had expected, and
I gradually found, to my amazement, that my
father's heart had changed towards me.

Though I was mortified, yet when I thought
over the whole matter in quiet moments, I blamed
my own conduct. It almost seemed as if
there must be some inherent defect in my
nature.

There were certain little matters connected
with our mode of life which had always struck
me as being odd; they had relation chiefly to my
father's little intercourse with his neighbours.
In my morbid condition, I could not help thinking
these things over; and the more I thought
of them, the less satisfactory had the explanations
I had been used to receive from my father
appeared. I strove to reconcile these anomalies,
but racking my brains to the utmost, could only
find one reason which would make the whole
matter plain and consistent. That reason was
frightful, but it was so manifestly impossible that
I was able to laugh it away. "Stupid fancy!"
I exclaimed, gazing in the glass, and gladly
gathering from my own features a resemblance
to the features in the miniature. Still, at
certain times, the fancy came again; and more
particularly when any question arose as to my going
into society.

The frightful thought was aroused one day by
my father's objecting to my going to a public ball
at which I had heard Mary Evans was to be
present. My wishes on the subject were met
with the same inadequate objections. I had
been spending the day with Mary Evans, and,
to my surprise, she had made no allusion to the
ball. We were sitting together in the evening,
and I held her hand against mine, trying, as I
told her, to discover whose was the smaller.
It was natural, born as I was in the South, that
my complexion should be less fair than hers, yet
my hand was but little darker. I alluded casually
to the ball, saying that I had a great wish to
be present at it with her, and then from her lips
came the same excuses, spoken with hesitation
and confusion. I grasped her hand again, gazing
on the two hands with deep anxiety. The
comparison reassured me; the haunting idea I felt
to be the mere creation of my own morbid fancy;
and the words I said then to Mary Evans were
said in very mockery of my fears. "You won't
take me to the ball because of the negro blood
in my veins.

I expected a laughing answer. I trembled
when I saw the deep compassion expressed in
her face. "Alas! who has broken the secret
to you?" she asked, sorrowfully. I could not
speak, I could not tell her that it was she who
in those words had revealed the fearful truth.

My senses seemed numbed. I was barely
conscious that she assured me of her love, covered
my face with her kisses, and prayed me to kiss
her. My heart felt like stone. Her very love
itself was loathsome in the thought of its
compassion, and my lips were set in rigid coldness.
A frightful gulf seemed fixed between us which
no human love could bridge. I asked her to
summon our carriage—to let me get home. Ah,
that fearful ride! Abel had been also at the
Evanses, and he was to return with me. I would
have given anything to have been alone, but I
was already in the carriage before he got in,
and I seemed to have lost all power of will, and
all womanly dignity.

Abel sat at my side without speaking a word,
but I was sure he knew that I had learnt the
secret of my birth. Then I knew why it was that
on our first meeting he had disliked to kiss me as
his cousin, why all his manner towards me had
appeared so false, why he had taken so much
pleasure in proclaiming the degradation of the
negro race. He sat quite silent, but I could
read his thoughts. I who had deemed myself
his lawful cousin, his equal by right of birth, his
superior in every gift of soul, so that if, as the
only child of a rich planter, he should have the
presumption to make me an offer of marriage, I
had resolved to spurn him away with contempt
—I shuddered and crouched away from him—
I knew that in his vile thoughts he held me no
higher than that wretched girl he had abused.
He pray me to be his wife! The very laws
forbade my being the Christian wife of any white
man! His contemptuous silence awed me; he
sat perfectly still, letting me sink to the floor of
the carriage.

The daughter of a slave! That dreadful idea
turned the current of my thoughts from Abel, and
the blow my father had struck me burnt anew, like
fire; but that girl who had suffered the torture of
the lash for my sake! The recollection of that
night flashed into my soul, crushing me with
an overwhelming remorse. Her nature was the
same as mine; there was the same dark blood
in our veins; the same capacity for moral elevation,
the same capacity for pain, God forgive
me! My crime struck home.

I resolved to see the girl before entering the
house. Her forgiveness would, I felt, ease the
load on my heart.

"I found my way in the dark, as well as I
could, to the negro huts, and discovered where
she was being nursed. She was lying asleep on
a mat, but the old woman who attended on her
had not gone to bed.

"Is she nearly recovered?"

"She is."

"Was the punishment very severe?"

I felt the utmost anguish at the woman's
answer.

No one had been so severely flogged on the
plantation, for years!

I sank on my knees at the girl's side. By
this time she had awoke. I poured forth my
words of contrition, and my scalding tears fell
on her hand which I grasped in mine. She was
partly dazed with sleep, but both she and the