ant weather that succeeded the March snowstorm had given
place to a cold, sweeping rain. I scampered as fast as I could across
the yard to my castle, my red cloak over my head, and we had to shut the
door to exclude the slant sheets of rain. All gathered in the upper end
of the room where my chair stood, the only seat there except the floor.
To the accompaniment of hissing rain and angry winds, the gruesome
particulars of the triple funeral were narrated. Mariposa--with the baby
on her lap--was chief spokeswoman, but nearly every one present had some
item of his own, authentic or imaginary, to add. All were sure that the
three whose fate had aroused the whole county to a passion of pity and
regret were angels in heaven.

[Illustration: THE BIRTH OF MOLLABELLA.

"I had eyes and thoughts for nothing except the evolution of that
miraculous doll-baby."]

"Mammy, _she_ say, s'long as po' Miss Lucy was bu'n' so bad, 'twas
mussiful fur to let her go," said Mariposa, rolling the baby over on
his pudgy stomach, and patting his back to "bring up the wind." "_She_
say, _ef_ one o' we-alls was to get bu'nt or cripple', or pufformed, or
ennything like that, she's jes' pray all night an' all day--'Good Lord,
_take_ 'em! Heavenly Marster! put 'em out o' they mizzry!' An' Ung'
Jack, _he_ say, seems ef everything that's put in the groun' comes up
beautifuller 'n 'twas when it went in. He tell how the seeds, _they_
tu'n into flowers, an' apples an' watermillions, an' all that, an' how
folks tu'n inter angills."

I cried myself to sleep that night. My mother, kept wakeful, doubtless,
by her own sad thoughts, heard the sobs I tried to stifle with the
bedclothes, and came to me with talk of the dear Saviour who had taken
little Lucy to his arms, and of her happiness in being forever with the
Lord.

I did not tell her--what child would?--that, while I missed and grieved
for the companion of those three happy days, a deeper heartache forced
up the tears.

For I knew now what must be done with Musidora.

I had taken her to bed with me that night for the first time in many
weeks. Mary 'Liza was amused, in an amiable way, when she saw the bundle
done up in red flannel--Musidora's rheumatism was _awful!_--that I
hugged up to me.

"I never let Dorinda sleep with me," she observed. "I am afraid of
hurting her. But I suppose you can't hurt Musidora. Why don't you give
her to one of the colored children? She is really a sight."

"Nobody a