tomac, was evidently not satisfied. I do not think the numbers who are
coming North on the Underground Railroad can be very contented. It is
not natural for people to run away from happiness, and if they are so
happy and contented, why did Congress pass the Fugitive Slave Bill?"

"Well, I don't think," answered Iola, "any of our slaves would run away.
I know mamma don't like slavery very much. I have often heard her say
that she hoped the time would come when there would not be a slave in
the land. My father does not think as she does. He thinks slavery is not
wrong if you treat them well and don't sell them from their families. I
intend, after I have graduated, to persuade pa to buy a house in New
Orleans, and spend the winter there. You know this will be my first
season out, and I hope that you will come and spend the winter with me.
We will have such gay times, and you will so fall in love with our sunny
South that you will never want to come back to shiver amid the snows and
cold of the North. I think one winter in the South would cure you of
your Abolitionism."

"Have you seen her yet?"

This question was asked by Louis Bastine, an attorney who had come North
in the interests of Lorraine. The scene was the New England village
where Mr. Galen's academy was located, and which Iola was attending.
This question was addressed to Camille Lecroix, Bastine's intimate
friend, who had lately come North. He was the son of a planter who lived
near Leroy's plantation, and was familiar with Iola's family history.
Since his arrival North, Bastine had met him and communicated to him his
intentions.

"Yes; just caught a glimpse of her this morning as she was going down
the street," was Camille's reply.

"She is a most beautiful creature," said Louis Bastine. "She has the
proud poise of Leroy, the most splendid eyes I ever saw in a woman's
head, lovely complexion, and a glorious wealth of hair. She would bring
$2000 any day in a New Orleans market."

"I always feel sorry," said Camille, "when I see one of those Creole
girls brought to the auction block. I have known fathers who were deeply
devoted to their daughters, but who through some reverse of fortune were
forced to part with them, and I always think the blow has been equally
terrible on both sides. I had a friend who had two beautiful daughters
whom he had educated in the North. They were cultured, and really belles
in society. They were entirely ignorant of their lineag