turn to Richmond, and
throwing off his disguise, he appeared in Richmond as Belton Piedmont
of old. The town was agog with excitement over the male nurse, but
none suspected him. He was now again without employment, and another
most grievous burden was about to be put on his shoulders. May God
enable him to bear it.

During all the period of their poverty stricken condition, Antoinette
bore her deprivations like a heroine. Though accustomed from her
childhood to plenty, she bore her poverty smilingly and cheerfully.
Not one sigh of regret, not one word of complaint escaped her lips.
She taught Belton to hope and have faith in himself. But everything
seemed to grow darker and darker for him. In the whole of his school
life, he had never encountered a student who could surpass him in
intellectual ability; and yet, here he was with all his conceded
worth, unable to find a fit place to earn his daily bread, all because
of the color of his skin. And now the Lord was about to bless him with
an offspring. He hardly knew whether to be thankful or sorrowful over
this prospective gift from heaven.

On the one hand, an infant in the home would be a source of unbounded
joy; but over against this pleasing picture there stood cruel want
pointing its wicked, mocking finger at him, anxious for another
victim. As the time for the expected gift drew near, Belton grew more
moody and despondent. Day by day he grew more and more nervous. One
evening the nurse called him into his wife's room, bidding him come
and look at his son. The nurse stood in the door and looked hard at
Belton as he drew near to the side of his wife's bed. He lifted the
lamp from the dresser and approached. Antoinette turned toward the
wall and hid her head under the cover. Eagerly, tremblingly, Belton
pulled the cover from the little child's face, the nurse all the while
watching him as though her eyes would pop out of her head.

Belton bent forward to look at his infant son. A terrible shriek broke
from his lips. He dropped the lamp upon the floor and fled out of the
house and rushed madly through the city. The color of Antoinette was
brown. The color of Belton was dark. But the child was white!

What pen can describe the tumult that raged in Belton's bosom for
months and months! Sadly, disconsolately, broken in spirit,
thoroughly dejected, Belton dragged himself to his mother's cottage at
Winchester. Like a ship that had started on a voyage, on a bright day,
wi