grave; and for her
mother a desolate and breaking heart.

While Miriam was sitting down hopelessly beneath the shadow of her
mighty grief, gazing ever and anon on the pale dead face, which seemed
to bear in its sad but gentle expression, an appeal from earth to
heaven, some of the slaves would hurry in, and looking upon the fair
young face, would drop a word of pity for the weeping mother, and then
hurry on to their appointed tasks. All day long Miriam sat alone with
her dead, except when these kindly interruptions broke upon the monotony
of her sorrow.

In the afternoon, Camilla, the only daughter of her master, entered her
cabin, and throwing her arms around her neck exclaimed, "Oh! Mammy, I am
so sorry I didn't know Agnes was dead. I've been on a visit to Mr. Le
Grange's plantation, and I've just got back this afternoon, and as soon
as I heard that Agnes was dead I hurried to see you. I would not even
wait for my dinner. Oh! how sweet she looks," said Camilla, bending over
the corpse, "just as natural as life. When did she die?"

"This morning, my poor, dear darling!" And another burst of anguish
relieved the overcharged heart.

"Oh! Mammy, don't cry, I am so sorry; but what is this?" said she, as
the little bundle of flannel began to stir.

"That is poor Agnes' baby."

"Agnes' baby? Why, I didn't know that Agnes had a baby. Do let me see
it?"

Tenderly the grandmother unfolded the wrappings, and presented the
little stranger. He was a beautiful babe, whose golden hair, bright blue
eyes and fair complexion showed no trace of the outcast blood in his
veins.

"Oh, how beautiful!" said Camilla; "surely this can't be Agnes' baby. He
is just as white as I am, and his eyes--what a beautiful blue--and his
hair, why it is really lovely."

"He is very pretty, Miss, but after all he is only a slave."

A slave. She had heard that word before; but somehow, when applied to
that fair child, it grated harshly on her ear; and she said, "Well, I
think it is a shame for him to be a slave, when he is just as white as
anybody. Now, Mammy," said she, throwing off her hat, and looking
soberly into the fire, "if I had my way, he should never be a slave."

"And why can't you have your way? I'm sure master humors you in
everything."

"I know that; Pa does everything I wish him to do; but I don't know how
I could manage about this. If his mother were living, I would beg Pa to
set them both free, and send them North; but his mo