l, tomorrow night? They are certainly bewitching!"

"I wonder, now, Mr. St. Clare, what the impudence of you men will come
to!" said Jane, tossing her pretty head 'til the ear-drops twinkled
again. "I shan't dance with you for a whole evening, if you go to asking
me any more questions."

"O, you couldn't be so cruel, now! I was just dying to know whether you
would appear in your pink tarletane," said Adolph.

"What is it?" said Rosa, a bright, piquant little quadroon who came
skipping down stairs at this moment.

"Why, Mr. St. Clare's so impudent!"

"On my honor," said Adolph, "I'll leave it to Miss Rosa now."

"I know he's always a saucy creature," said Rosa, poising herself on
one of her little feet, and looking maliciously at Adolph. "He's always
getting me so angry with him."

"O! ladies, ladies, you will certainly break my heart, between you,"
said Adolph. "I shall be found dead in my bed, some morning, and you'll
have it to answer for."

"Do hear the horrid creature talk!" said both ladies, laughing
immoderately.

"Come,--clar out, you! I can't have you cluttering up the kitchen," said
Dinah; "in my way, foolin' round here."

"Aunt Dinah's glum, because she can't go to the ball," said Rosa.

"Don't want none o' your light-colored balls," said Dinah; "cuttin'
round, makin' b'lieve you's white folks. Arter all, you's niggers, much
as I am."

"Aunt Dinah greases her wool stiff, every day, to make it lie straight,"
said Jane.

"And it will be wool, after all," said Rosa, maliciously shaking down
her long, silky curls.

"Well, in the Lord's sight, an't wool as good as bar, any time?" said
Dinah. "I'd like to have Missis say which is worth the most,--a couple
such as you, or one like me. Get out wid ye, ye trumpery,--I won't have
ye round!"

Here the conversation was interrupted in a two-fold manner. St. Clare's
voice was heard at the head of the stairs, asking Adolph if he meant to
stay all night with his shaving-water; and Miss Ophelia, coming out of
the dining-room, said,

"Jane and Rosa, what are you wasting your time for, here? Go in and
attend to your muslins."

Our friend Tom, who had been in the kitchen during the conversation with
the old rusk-woman, had followed her out into the street. He saw her go
on, giving every once in a while a suppressed groan. At last she set
her basket down on a doorstep, and began arranging the old, faded shawl
which covered her shoulders.

"I'll carry your