r which you express
a desire."
"I know all that, Garie, and what I am about to say may seem ungrateful,
but believe me, dear, I do not mean it to be so. I had much rather live on
crusts and wear the coarsest clothes, and work night and day to earn them,
than live here in luxury, wearing gilded chains. Carriages and fine
clothes cannot create happiness. I have every physical comfort, and yet my
heart is often heavy--oh, so very heavy; I know I am envied by many for my
fine establishment; yet how joyfully would I give it all up and accept the
meanest living for the children's freedom--and your love."
"But, Emily, granted we should remove to the North, you would find
annoyances there as well as here. There is a great deal of prejudice
existing there against people of colour, which, often exposes them to great
inconveniences."
"Yes, dear, I know all that; I should expect that. But then on the other
hand, remember what George said respecting the coloured people themselves;
what a pleasant social circle they form, and how intelligent many of them
are! Oh, Garie, how I have longed for friends!--we have visitors now and
then, but none that I can call friends. The gentlemen who come to see you
occasionally are polite to me, but, under existing circumstances, I feel
that they cannot entertain for me the respect I think I deserve. I know
they look down upon and despise me because I'm a coloured woman. Then there
would be another advantage; I should have some female society--here I have
none. The white ladies of the neighbourhood will not associate with me,
although I am better educated, thanks to your care, than many of them, so
it is only on rare occasions, when I can coax some of our more cultivated
coloured acquaintances from Savannah to pay us a short visit, that I have
any female society, and no woman can be happy without it. I have no
parents, nor yet have you. We have nothing we greatly love to leave
behind--no strong ties to break, and in consequence would be subjected to
no great grief at leaving. If I only could persuade you to go!" said she,
imploringly.
"Well, Emily," replied he, in an undecided manner, "I'll think about it. I
love you so well, that I believe I should be willing to make any sacrifice
for your happiness. But it is getting damp and chilly, and you know," said
he, smiling, "you must be more than usually careful of yourself now."
The next evening, and many more besides, were spent in discussing th
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