in. She no longer ran and played
in the garden for hours together as she used to do. She was always tired
now.
Miss Ophelia noticed it too, and tried to make Mr. St. Clare see it. But
he would not. He loved his little Eva so much, that he did not want to
believe that anything could be the matter with her.
Mrs. St. Clare never thought that any one, except herself, could be ill.
So Eva grew daily thinner and weaker, and Uncle Tom and Aunt Ophelia
more and more sad and anxious.
But at last she became so unwell, that even Mr. St. Clare had to own
that something was wrong, and the doctor was sent for.
In a week or two she was very much better. Once more she ran about
playing and laughing, and her father was delighted. Only Miss Ophelia
and the doctor sighed and shook their heads. And little Eva herself
knew; but she was not troubled. She knew she was going to God.
'Papa' she said one day, 'there are some things I want to say to you. I
want to say them now while I am able.'
She seated herself on his knee, and laid her head on his shoulder.
'It is all no use, papa, to keep it to myself any longer. The time is
coming when I am going to leave you. I am going, never to come back',
and Eva sobbed.
'Eva, darling, don't say such things; you are better you know.'
'No, papa, I am not any better. I know it quite well, and I am going
soon.'
'And I want to go,' she went on, 'only I don't want to leave you--it
almost breaks my heart.'
'Don't, Eva, don't talk so. What makes you so sad?'
'I feel sad for our poor people. I wish, papa, they were all free. Isn't
there any way to have all slaves made free?'
'That is a difficult question, dearest. There is no doubt that this way
is a very bad one. A great many people think so. I do myself. I wish
there was not a slave in the land. But then, I don't know what is to be
done about it.'
'Papa, you are such a good man, and so noble and kind. Couldn't you go
all around and try and persuade people to do right about this? When I am
dead, papa, then you will think of me, and do it for my sake.'
'When you are dead, Eva! Oh, child, don't talk to me so.'
'Promise me at least, father, that Tom shall have his freedom, as soon
as I am gone.'
'Yes, dear, I will do anything you wish. Only don't talk so.'
Miss Ophelia and Eva had been to church together. Miss Ophelia had gone
to her room to take off her bonnet, while Eva talked to her father.
Suddenly Mr. St. Clare and h
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