ared to surrender the advantage of their
whiteness and drop back to the lower rank. The mother bore the mark of
the Ethiopian--not pronouncedly, but distinctly; neither would Mis'
Molly, in all probability, care to leave home and friends and the
graves of her loved ones. She had no mental resources to supply the
place of these; she was, moreover, too old to be transplanted; she
would not fit into Warwick's scheme for a new life.

"I left her once," said Rena, "and it brought pain and sorrow to all
three of us. She is not strong, and I will not leave her here to die
alone. This shall be my home while she lives, and if I leave it again,
it shall be for only a short time, to go where I can write to her
freely, and hear from her often. Don't worry about me, John,--I shall
do very well."

Warwick sighed. He was sincerely sorry to leave his sister, and yet he
saw that for the time being her resolution was not to be shaken. He
must bide his time. Perhaps, in a few months, she would tire of the
old life. His door would be always open to her, and he would charge
himself with her future.

"Well, then," he said, concluding the argument, "we'll say no more
about it for the present. I'll write to you later. I was afraid that
you might not care to go back just now, and so I brought your trunk
along with me."

He gave his mother the baggage-check. She took it across to Frank,
who, during the day, brought the trunk from the depot. Mis' Molly
offered to pay him for the service, but he would accept nothing.

"Lawd, no, Mis' Molly; I did n' hafter go out'n my way ter git dat
trunk. I had a load er sperrit-bairls ter haul ter de still, an' de
depot wuz right on my way back. It'd be robbin' you ter take pay fer a
little thing lack dat."

"My son John's here," said Mis' Molly "an' he wants to see you. Come
into the settin'-room. We don't want folks to know he's in town; but
you know all our secrets, an' we can trust you like one er the family."

"I'm glad to see you again, Frank," said Warwick, extending his hand
and clasping Frank's warmly. "You've grown up since I saw you last,
but it seems you are still our good friend."

"Our very good friend," interjected Rena.

Frank threw her a grateful glance. "Yas, suh," he said, looking
Warwick over with a friendly eye, "an' you is growed some, too. I seed
you, you know, down dere where you live; but I did n' let on, fer you
an' Mis' Rena wuz w'ite as anybody; an' eve'y