over her dying features.

Iola passed quickly into the room. Gracie reached out her thin,
bloodless hand, clasped Iola's palm in hers, and said: "I am so glad you
have come. Dear Iola, stand by mother. You and Harry are all she has. It
is not hard to die. You and mother and Harry must meet me in heaven."

Swiftly the tidings went through the house that Gracie was dying. The
servants gathered around her with tearful eyes, as she bade them all
good-bye. When she had finished, and Mammy had lowered the pillow, an
unwonted radiance lit up her eye, and an expression of ineffable
gladness overspread her face, as she murmured: "It is beautiful, so
beautiful!" Fainter and fainter grew her voice, until, without a
struggle or sigh, she passed away beyond the power of oppression and
prejudice.

CHAPTER XIII.

A REJECTED SUITOR.

Very unexpected was Dr. Gresham's proposal to Iola. She had heartily
enjoyed his society and highly valued his friendship, but he had never
been associated in her mind with either love or marriage. As he held her
hand in his a tell-tale flush rose to her cheek, a look of grateful
surprise beamed from her eye, but it was almost immediately succeeded by
an air of inexpressible sadness, a drooping of her eyelids, and an
increasing pallor of her cheek. She withdrew her hand from his, shook
her head sadly, and said:--

"No, Doctor; that can never be. I am very grateful to you for your
kindness. I value your friendship, but neither gratitude nor friendship
is love, and I have nothing more than those to give."

"Not at present," said Dr. Gresham; "but may I not hope your friendship
will ripen into love?"

"Doctor, I could not promise. I do not think that I should. There are
barriers between us that I cannot pass. Were you to know them I think
you would say the same."

Just then the ambulance brought in a wounded scout, and Iola found
relief from the wounds of her own heart in attending to his.

Dr. Gresham knew the barrier that lay between them. It was one which his
love had surmounted. But he was too noble and generous to take advantage
of her loneliness to press his suit. He had lived in a part of the
country where he had scarcely ever seen a colored person, and around the
race their misfortunes had thrown a halo of romance. To him the negro
was a picturesque being, over whose woes he had wept when a child, and
whose wrongs he was ready to redress when a man. But when he saw the
lovely gir