est of my ability, my little girl."

"Thank you, my dear kind father. I have another reason for wishing to
start to-morrow. I'm growing anxious and impatient to see my birthplace
again: and," she added low and tenderly, "mamma's grave."

"Yes, we will visit it together for the first time; though I have stood
there alone again and again, and her baby daughter used to be taken there
frequently to scatter flowers over it and play beside it. Do you remember
that?"

"Yes, sir, as an almost forgotten dream, as I do the house and grounds and
some of the old servants who petted and humored me."

While father and daughter conversed thus together in the parlor, a dusky
figure sat at a window in the adjoining bedroom, gazing out upon the
moonlighted streets and watching the passers-by. But her thoughts, too,
were straying to Viamede; fast-coming memories of earlier days, some all
bright and joyous, others filled with the gloom and thick darkness of a
terrible anguish, made her by turns long for and dread the arrival at her
journey's end.

A light touch on her shoulder, and she turned to find her young mistress
at her side.

"My poor old mammy, I bring you news you will be sorry to hear," said
Elsie, seating herself upon the ample lap, and laying her arm across the
broad shoulders.

"What dat, honey?"

"We start to-morrow for Viamede; papa has sent John to engage our passage
on the steamer."

"Dat all, darlin'?" queried Chloe, with a sigh of relief, "if we's got to
go, might's well go quick an' hab it ober."

"Well, I'm glad you take so sensible a view of it," remarked Elsie,
relieved in her turn; "and I hope you will find much less pain and more
pleasure than you expect in going back to the old home."

The next morning, as Mr. Dinsmore and his daughter sat upon the deck of
the steamer, enjoying the sunlight, the breeze, and the dancing of the
water, having cleared their port and gotten fairly out into the gulf, a
startling incident occurred.

Chloe stood at a respectful distance, leaning over the side of the vessel,
watching the play of the wheel and the rainbow in the spray that fell in
showers at its every revolution. An old negro busied about the deck; drew
near and addressed her:

"Well, auntie, you watchin' dat ole wheel dar? Fust time you trable on dis
boat, eh?"

Chloe started at the sound of the voice, turned suddenly round and faced
the speaker, her features working with emotion: one moment of earnest
s