s in glory, and you is the richest belle in the
State; and my poor young mistiss is in the worst puggatory, the one
that comes before death; and her child, her daughter that oughter be
living in style at 'Elm Bluff', like you are here, where is she? Where
is she? Flung down among vilyans and mallyfactors, and the very
off-scourings of creation, in the penitenchery! Tears to me like, if
old mistiss is as high-headed and proud as she was in this world, her
speerit would tear down the walls and set her grandchild free. When I
saw that beautiful young thing beating her white hands agin the iron
bars, it went to my heart like a carving knife, and--"

Dyce burst into tears, and covered her face with her apron, Leo patted
her shoulder softly, and essayed to comfort her.

"Don't cry so bitterly; try to be hopeful. It is very, very sad, but if
she is innocent, her stay in prison will be short."

"There ain't no 'ifs'--when it comes to 'cusing my mistiss' child of
stealing and murdering. Suppose the sheriff was to light down here this
minute, and grab you up and tell folks 'spectable witnesses swore you
broke open your Uncle Mitchell's safe, and brained him with a handi'on?
Would you think it friendly for people to say, if she didn't they will
soon turn her aloose? Would that be any warm poultice to your hurt
feelin's? It's the stinging shame and the awful, disgrace of being
'spicioned, that you never would forgive."

"Yes, it is very dreadful, and I pity the poor girl; but it seems that
appearances are all against her, and I fear she will find it difficult
to explain some circumstances."

"If your ma was here to-day, she wouldn't say that. When she was a
friend, she was stone deaf and mole blind to every evil report agin
them she loved. Miss Marcia would go straight to that jail, and put her
arms 'round Miss Ellice's child, and stand by her till her last breath;
and the more she was pussecuted, the closer she would stick. Miss Leo,
you must take your ma's place, you must heir her friendship just like
you do her other property. I have come to you, 'cause I am going away
to New York, and can't feel easy 'till you promise me you will do what
you can. Miss Ellice is laying at the pint of death, and her poor child
is so deestracted about her needing comforts, that I tole her I'de go
on an' nuss her ma for her, 'till she was sot free and could hurry
back. I dreampt last night that ole mistiss called me and Bedney, and
said 'Take