oon caused her
to acknowledge that he was the father of her child. Few women could
have taken such a matter in hand and carried it through with more
determination and success than old Mrs. Miller. Completely inured in all
the crimes and atrocities connected with the institution of slavery, she
was also aware that, to a greater or less extent, the slave women shared
with their mistress the affections of their master. This caused her to
look with a suspicious eye on every good-looking negro woman that she
saw.

While the old woman was thus lecturing her daughter upon her rights and
duties, Henry, unaware of what was transpiring, had left the house and
gone to his office. As soon as the old woman found that he was gone, she
said,--

"I will venture anything that he is on his way to see that wench again.
I'll lay my life on it."

The entrance, however, of little Marcus, or Mark, as he was familiarly
called, asking for Massa Linwood's blue bag, satisfied her that her
son-in-law was at his office. Before the old lady returned home, it was
agreed that Gertrude should come to her mother's to tea that evening,
and Henry with her, and that Mrs. Miller should there charge the young
husband with inconstancy to her daughter, and demand the removal of
Isabella.

With this understanding, the old woman retraced her steps to her own
dwelling.

Had Mrs. Miller been of a different character and not surrounded by
slavery, she could scarcely have been unhappy in such a home as hers.
Just at the edge of the city, and sheltered by large poplar-trees was
the old homestead in which she resided. There was a splendid orchard
in the rear of the house, and the old weather-beaten sweep, with "the
moss-covered bucket" at its end, swung majestically over the deep well.
The garden was scarcely to be equalled. Its grounds were laid out in
excellent taste, and rare exotics in the greenhouse made it still more
lovely.

It was a sweet autumn evening, when the air breathed through the
fragrant sheaves of grain, and the setting sun, with his golden kisses,
burnished the rich clusters of purple grapes, that Henry and Gertrude
were seen approaching the house on foot; it was nothing more than a
pleasant walk. Oh, how Gertrude's heart beat as she seated herself, on
their arrival!

The beautiful parlor, surrounded on all sides with luxury and taste,
with the sun creeping through the damask curtains, added a charm to the
scene. It was in this room that