were revolving through her mind; the
theme of all the variations being how different it was from what it
might have been, if the ideal of her girlhood had not been shattered
so cruelly. Had it not been for that glimmering light in the future
which Madame so assiduously presented to her view, courage would have
forsaken her utterly. As it was, she often listened to the dash of the
sea with the melancholy feeling that rest might be found beneath its
waves. But she was still very young, the sky was bright, the earth was
lovely, and she had a friend who had promised to provide a safe asylum
for her somewhere. She tried to regain her strength, that she might
leave the island, with all its sad reminders of departed happiness.
Thinking of this, she rose one day and wandered into the little
parlor to take a sort of farewell look. There was the piano, so long
unopened, with a whole epic of love and sorrow in its remembered
tones; the pretty little table her mother had painted; the basket she
had received from her father after his death; Floracita's paintings
and mosses; and innumerable little tokens of Gerald's love. Walking
round slowly and feebly in presence of all those memories, how
alone she felt, with none to speak to but Tulee and the old colored
mammy,--she, who had been so tenderly cared for by her parents, so
idolized by him to whom she gave her heart! She was still gazing
pensively on these souvenirs of the past, when her attention was
arrested by Tom's voice, saying: "Dar's a picaninny at de Grat Hus.
How's turrer picaninny?"

The thought rushed upon her, "Ah, that baby had a father to welcome it
and fondle it; but _my_ poor babe--" A sensation of faintness came over
her; and, holding on by the chairs and tables, she staggered back to
the bed she had left.

Before the babe was a fortnight old, Tom announced that he was to
accompany his master to New Orleans, whither he had been summoned by
business. The occasion was eagerly seized by Rosa to send a letter
and some small articles to Madame and the Signor. Tulee gave him very
particular directions how to find the house, and charged him over and
over again to tell them everything. When she cautioned him not to let
his master know that he carried anything, Tom placed his thumb on the
tip of his nose, and moved the fingers significantly, saying: "Dis ere
nigger ha'n't jus' wakum'd up. Bin wake mos' ob de time sense twar
daylight." He foresaw it would be difficult to exe