d endeavoured to reconcile her, by the repeated assurance, that
let the young lady say what she pleased, yet no harm could reach her: that
in old England, every servant had law and justice as much on their side as
their master could have.

This was no consolation to the faithful negro, who appeared rather to
desire even unmerited punishment than seek for excuse; she incessantly
upbraided herself for having killed pretty Missy, and breaking the heart of
her good mistress; and when she beheld the plastered face of Matilda, these
self-reproaches increased to the most distressing degree, and threatened a
complete relapse to the disorder she had yet hardly escaped from.

"You could not help it, Zebby; it was all an accident, and ought to be
chiefly attributed to my own foolishness," said Matilda.

"Oh, no! it was me bad and foolish. Missy, me naughty, _same_ you used to
be--pushee here and pushee there, in bad pets--it was all me--breaky heart
of poor Missis--she comee over great seas; thinkee see you all good and
pretty as Englis lady; and den you be shocking figure, all cover with
spotee--oh deary! oh deary! perhaps come fever, then you go to the death,
you will be bury in dark hole, and mamma never, _never_ see you again."

The desponding tones of this speech went far beyond its words, and Matilda
combining with it the caution she had heard the medical gentleman make
respecting fever, and the first exclamation of Ellen, that--"Matilda was
scalded to death," induced her to suppose that there was really danger in
her case; and after repeatedly assuring Zebby of her entire forgiveness and
regard, she returned to the apartment she had quitted, with a slow step,
and an air of awe and solemnity, such as her friends had never witnessed
before.

After Matilda had lain down on the sofa some minutes, she desired Ellen to
get her materials for writing, but soon found that the pain in her breast
rendered it impossible for her to execute her design.

"I will write for you," said Ellen.

"That won't do--I wanted, with my own hand, to assure dear mamma that poor
Zebby was not to blame, nor any body else."

"My dear," said Mrs. Harewood, "we can do that by and by, when your mamma
comes over."

"But if, ma'am--if I should _die_?"

Mrs. Harewood could scarcely forbear an inward smile, but she answered her
with seriousness, and did not lose the opportunity of imprinting upon her
mind many salutary truths connected with her present