been forgotten. But here was a case which outraged every womanly feeling
in her breast, a case of suffering and wrong, occurring to persons in
whom she was personally interested, and she was aroused to the
wickedness of the system which allowed such oppression.

In the evening Hasty came up to see if anything had been done for her
relief. As she entered the room, the sorrowful expression of Mrs.
Jennings's face brought tears into her eyes, for she felt there was
no hope.

"O poor Hasty!" said Mrs. Jennings.

"Don't say no more, missus, I see what's comin'. Poor Mark will go down
South. Seems to me I knowed it would be so from de fust. O dear! it'll
go nigh breaking me down. Tears like I can't stand it no how," said
Hasty, sobbing aloud.

Mrs. Jennings waited till the first burst of bitter grief was over, and
then tried to comfort her as well as she was able, but she felt how hard
it was to assuage such grief as this. She spoke to her of the hope of
seeing her husband again in this world, and of the certainty at least,
if both tried to do the will of God, of meeting in heaven. But her
efforts were unavailing, and her consoling words fell on a heart that
would not be comforted.

CHAPTER III.

When Mrs. Jennings awoke the next morning, her first thoughts were of
Hasty, and she determined that the day should not pass over without her
making another effort for Mark. Accordingly, after breakfast she ordered
the carriage, intending to make a visit to Mr. Nelson's.

"Where are you going, Maggie?" inquired Mr. Jennings of his wife, as he
heard her give the order.

"I am going to Mr. Nelson's about Mark," she answered.

"Why, my dear, I told you what M'Affee said, that Nelson was implacable.
And besides, I am afraid he will think it impertinent in you to meddle
with his affairs."

"I shall make an apology for my visit," she answered, "but I cannot rest
satisfied until I hear a direct refusal from his own lips. His conduct
toward Mark seems more like revenge than punishment. I do not think he
can persist in it."

"Well, I give you credit for your perseverance," he said, laughingly,
"but I am afraid you will come home disappointed."

"If I do," she replied, "I shall feel less conscience-stricken than if I
had remained at home, knowing that I have done all in my power to
prevent his going."

As Mrs. Jennings rode along she felt that she had a disagreeable duty to
perform, but, like a true Christian woman, sh