of silence with regard to the
past. I wish to find a name and I wish to find friends among the really
good people of Almaville, the good Negroes. I am lately from New York
and I am your friend. With these facts and only these, can you name me,
can you place me in touch with your friends?" said the young woman.

[Illustration: "'Name me as I was named when a babe. The name that I have
borne shall know me no more,' replied the young woman."
(40-41.)]

"Name you?" enquired Ensal.

"Name me as I was named when a babe. The name that I have borne shall
know me no more," replied the young woman.

As pastor of a Negro church at a period when almost the entire
leadership of the race was centered in that functionary, Ensal was
accustomed to having all sorts of matters placed before him, but the
present requirement was rather unique in all of his experience as a
pastor. He arose from the chair and began to walk slowly to and fro
across the room, having asked the indulgence of the young woman for
resorting to his favorite method of procedure when engaged in serious
reflection. If we must tell the truth of this young man, the question
which he was debating most was somewhat at variance with those raised by
her requests.

Ensal had come to the conclusion many years previous that marriage was
not for him, and hitherto woman had had no entrance into the inner
chambers of his thoughts. And this beautiful stranger, nameless and
homeless, had almost wrested the door of his heart from its hinges,
without even an attempt thereat, and the young man was trying to
grapple with the new experiences born into his consciousness.

Finding that he lost ground by trying to reason with his heart, Ensal
let the wilful member alone and engaged in the more honest task of
naming his visitor. Turning toward the young woman, glad that he had
something to say, so that he might look into her beautiful face again,
he said:

"I name you Tiara."

Ensal assigned the name with so much warmth that Tiara dropped her eyes,
and the faintest symptoms of a smile appeared on her face.

"You have forgotten the latter part of my name," she remarked.

Ensal resumed his walking. Happening to look up at the top of his desk
he caught sight of a sculptured bust of Frederick Douglass. He paused,
and pointing to the bust, said:

"Behold one whose distinctive mission in the world was to serve as a
harbinger for his