ure; after waiting some
minutes in vain, she dropped a second humble courtesy, and said--"How you
do, Missy? me very glad see you larn booky, but me hopes you spare one
look, one wordy, for poor Zebby; me go away one long weeky, to nurse white
man baby, pretty as you, Missy."

"Yes," said Matilda, reproachingly, "you went away and left me very
willingly, though it was to wait on a person you never saw before."

"Ah, Missy! you no lovee me, and poor white woman lovee me much. You makee
beer spit in my face--she givee me tea-gruel out of her own cup. You callee
me black beetle--she callee me good girly, good nursy, good every ting."

Matilda gave a deep sigh; she well remembered that it was on the very day
of her outrage that Zebby had quitted her, and in her altered sense of
justice, she could not help seeing the truth of the poor negro's statement;
she looked up, with an ingenuous sense of error depicted on her
countenance, and said--"I am sorry, Zebby, that I used you so ill, but I
will never do it again."

The poor African was absolutely astonished, for never had the voice of
concession been heard from the lips of Matilda before, even to her own
parents; and the idea of her humility and kindness in this acknowledgment
so deeply affected the faithful creature, that, after gazing at her in
admiration for a moment, she burst into tears, and then clasping her hands,
she exclaimed, in a broken manner--"Oh, tankee God! tankee God! pretty
Missy be good girly at last! her lovee her good mamma--her pity poor
negro--her go up stair when her die. Oh, me be so glad! great God lovee my
dear Missy now!"

Matilda felt the tears suffuse her own eyes, as the kind heart of her late
faithful slave thus gave vent to its natural and devout emotions; and she
gave her hand to Zebby, who kissed it twenty times. Ellen was so delighted
with this proof of good disposition in Matilda, and with the honest
effusions of the poor negro, that she could not forbear gratifying her own
affectionate little heart, by running to tell her dear mamma, who truly
rejoiced in every proof of Matilda's amendment, and doubted not but it
would prove the forerunner of virtue, in a child who appeared convinced of
her faults, and desirous of improving herself.

It was now near Christmas, and Mrs. Harewood was inquiring for a
boarding-school where she could place Miss Hanson. She would have
preferred to keep her at home, and have a governess, who might attend to