eaven to witness it!"

"I am not fool enough to believe you."

"You would have the poor thing separated from young Harrington, and I
had no other way of appeasing your unreasonable demands, being your
mother."

"Well, at any rate they are separated, and I am not married to James the
millionaire, which was your wish; so, after all, I do not come out
second best in a fair trial of strength, you see."

"I do not wish your marriage with James Harrington, and Ralph you can
never hope for."

"You think so!" answered the girl, with a vicious sneer. "You fancy that
one rebuff will crush me. I neither know nor care who told you that he
has met my love with scorn, fled my presence as if I were a viper on his
father's hearth. I tell you he shall return. I have a will that shall
yet bend his love to mine though it were tougher than iron. Woman, I
say again, Ralph Harrington shall yet be my lawfully wedded husband!"

"Girl, I tell you again, and with far better reasons, it can never be!"
cried Zillah, towering over her as she sat upon the couch.

"It shall be!" almost hissed the girl, meeting the black eyes bent upon
her with glances of sullen wrath.

"Not till the laws permit brothers and sisters to marry!" answered
Zillah. "For I call upon the living God to witness that you are General
Harrington's child!" Her face hardened and grew white, as the secret
burst from her lips; for she saw the shudder and heard the shriek that
broke from her child.

"His and yours?" questioned Agnes, pale as death.

"His and mine!"

"And you were a slave?"

"_His_ slave."

Agnes started up, tossing her hands wildly in the air.

"A noble parentage--a thrice noble parentage!" she cried out, hoarse
with pain and rage. "The child of a villain, and his slave! Woman, I
could tear you into atoms, for daring to pour your black blood into my
life!"

Zillah drew back, pale and aghast. She could not speak.

"Ah, now I know why this flesh crept, and the blood fell back upon my
heart, when that vicious old man was near! My life rose up against the
outrage of its own being. I tell you, woman, if this man is my father, I
_hate_ him!"

"And me," faltered Zillah, shuddering.

"And you, negro-slave that you are."

"I am neither a negro or a slave," answered Zillah, recovering a portion
of her haughtiness; "the taint of my blood has died out in yours. Look
on me, unfeeling girl, and say where you find a trace of the
African--not in this hair, i