or us all. Now, Marie, seat yourself at the piano and
sing:--

'Sing me the songs that to me were so dear,
Long, long ago.
Sing me the songs I delighted to hear,
Long, long ago."

As Marie sang the anxiety faded from her face, a sense of security stole
over her, and she sat among her loved ones a happy wife and mother. What
if no one recognized her on that lonely plantation! Her world was,
nevertheless, there. The love and devotion of her husband brightened
every avenue of her life, while her children filled her home with music,
mirth, and sunshine.

Marie had undertaken their education, but she could not give them the
culture which comes from the attrition of thought, and from contact with
the ideas of others. Since her school-days she had read extensively and
thought much, and in solitude her thoughts had ripened. But for her
children there were no companions except the young slaves of the
plantation, and she dreaded the effect of such intercourse upon their
lives and characters.

Leroy had always been especially careful to conceal from his children
the knowledge of their connection with the negro race. To Marie this
silence was oppressive.

One day she said to him, "I see no other way of finishing the education
of these children than by sending them to some Northern school."

"I have come," said Leroy, "to the same conclusion. We had better take
Iola and Harry North and make arrangements for them to spend several
years in being educated. Riches take wings to themselves and fly away,
but a good education is an investment on which the law can place no
attachment. As there is a possibility of their origin being discovered,
I will find a teacher to whom I can confide our story, and upon whom I
can enjoin secrecy. I want them well fitted for any emergency in life.
When I discover for what they have the most aptitude I will give them
especial training in that direction."

A troubled look passed over the face of Marie, as she hesitatingly said:
"I am so afraid that you will regret our marriage when you fully realize
the complications it brings."

"No, no," said Leroy, tenderly, "it is not that I regret our marriage,
or feel the least disdain for our children on account of the blood in
their veins; but I do not wish them to grow up under the contracting
influence of this race prejudice. I do not wish them to feel that they
have been born under a proscription from which no valor can