claimed, "What is the
matter?"

Noticing the agitation of her friend, "Who is this woman, and what has
she said to you?"

"She says that she is my mother, my long-lost mother."

"Why, Minnie, what nonsense! She can't be your mother. Why don't you see
she is colored?"

"Where do you live?" said Minnie, without appearing to notice the words
of Carrie.

"I don't live anywhere. I just came here yesterday with some of the
Union soldiers."

"Come with me then, and I will show you a place to stop."

"Why, Minnie, you are not going to walk down the street with that
Nig--colored woman; if you are, please excuse me. My business calls me
another way."

And without any more ceremony Carrie and Minnie parted. Silently she
walked by the side of the stranger, a thousand thoughts revolving in her
mind. Was this the solution of the mystery which enshrouded her young
life? Did she indeed belong to that doomed and hated race, and must she
share the cruel treatment which bitter, relentless prejudice had
assigned them?

Thomas Carpenter and Anna were stopping in P., at the house of relatives
who knew Minnie's history, but who had never made any difference in
their treatment of her on that account.

"Is father and mother at home?" said Minnie to the servant, who opened
the door. She answered in the affirmative.

"Tell them to come into the parlor, they are wanted immediately."

"Sit down," said Minnie to the stranger, handing her a chair, "and wait
till father comes."

Anna and Thomas soon entered the room, and Minnie approaching them said,
"Father, this woman met me on the street to-day, and says she is my
mother. You know all about my history. Tell me if there is any truth in
this story."

"I don't know, Minnie, I never saw thy mother."

"But question her, father, and see if there is any truth in what she
says; but tell me first, father, am I white or colored?"

"Minnie, I believe there is a small portion of colored blood in thy
veins."

"It is enough," said Minnie, drawing closer to the strange woman. "What
makes you think that I am your child?"

"By this," said she, taking a miniature from her bosom. "By this, which
I carried next to my heart for more than twelve years, and never have
been without it a single day or night."

Thomas looked upon the miniature; it was an exact likeness of Minnie
when she first came to them, and although she had grown and changed
since the likeness was taken, there was too close a