on her face, their visitor saw that she belonged to the
very class that she had been abusing in such unmeasured terms and so
petrified was she with confusion at the _faux pas_ she had committed, that
she was entirely unable to improvise the slightest apology.

Mrs. Garie, who had been reclining on the lounge, partially raised herself
and gave Mrs. Stevens a withering look. "I presume, madam," said she, in a
hurried and agitated tone, "that you are very ignorant of the people upon
whom you have just been heaping such unmerited abuse, and therefore I shall
not think so hardly of you as I should, did I deem your language dictated
by pure hatred; but, be its origin what it may, it is quite evident that
our farther acquaintance could be productive of no pleasure to either of
us--you will, therefore, permit me," continued she, rising with great
dignity, "to wish you good evening;" and thus speaking, she left the room.

Mrs. Stevens was completely demolished by this unexpected _denouement_ of
her long-meditated visit, and could only feebly remark to Mr. Garie that it
was getting late, and she would go; and rising, she suffered herself to be
politely bowed out of the house. In her intense anxiety to relate to her
husband the scene which had just occurred, she could not take time to go
round and through the gate, but leaped lightly over the low fence that
divided the gardens, and rushed precipitately into the presence of her
husband.

"Good heavens! George, what do you think?" she exclaimed; "I've had such a
surprise!"

"I should think that you had, judging from appearances," replied he. "Why,
your eyes are almost starting out of your head! What on earth has
happened?" he asked, as he took the shade off the lamp to get a better view
of his amiable partner.

"You would not guess in a year," she rejoined; "I never would have dreamed
it--I never was so struck in my life!"

"Struck with what? Do talk sensibly, Jule, and say what all this is about,"
interrupted her husband, in an impatient manner. "Come, out with it--what
has happened?"

"Why, would you have thought it," said she; "Mrs. Garie is a nigger
woman--a real nigger--she would be known as such anywhere?"

It was now Mr. Stevens's turn to be surprised. "Why, Jule," he exclaimed,
"you astonish me! Come, now, you're joking--you don't mean a real black
nigger?"

"Oh, no, not jet black--but she's dark enough. She is as dark as that Sarah
we employed as cook some time a