a wave of agony.

Making an excuse that she had shopping to do, Daisy took the train to
the city with her father, and parted from him at a point where the
downtown and uptown street cars separated. Then she took a cab and drove
to the address given her.

It was not the finest quarter in the city, and she would have hesitated
at any other time before taking such a risk as going there alone. At
present she thought of nothing but the object of her visit. Inquiry at
the door brought the information that the lady was expected and that she
was to go upstairs and wait. The woman who let her in was a pleasant
faced mullatress, and several young children of varying shades were
playing on the stairs she had to ascend. Daisy mounted to the room
designated, which proved to be a small parlor, with an alcove, behind
the curtains of which was presumably a bed.

As the weather was quite warm, the girl went to the front windows and
opened them, in order to admit the fresh air. Then she sat down and
waited impatiently. There was a scent in the room which she associated
with the Ethiopian race, a subtle aroma that she found decidedly
unpleasant. It gave her an indefinable uneasiness, and she mentally
remarked that she would be glad when the ordeal was over. Her nerves
were already beginning to suffer.

After the lapse of fifteen minutes, Hannibal entered. He had the look of
one who had passed a sleepless night, and despite the blackness of his
complexion, his cheeks seemed pale.

"Good-morning," said Daisy, rising.

"Good-morning," he replied.

And then there was a brief space of silence, each waiting for the other.

"I am here, you see," said the girl, finally, with an attempt at a
smile. "And now will you give me the things I came for, as I cannot stay
long?"

The negro tried to look at her, tried many times, but failed. His eyes
shifted uneasily to all the other objects in the room, resting on none
of them more than a second at a time.

"You wonder," he said, after another pause, "why I returned to America,
why I came to your house last night. I thought I could tell you--this
morning--and I have been trying to prepare myself to do so--but I
cannot. You blame me a great deal, that is evident in every line of your
face, but you do not know what I have suffered. Were your father to go
to jail for the term the law prescribes, he would not endure the agony
that has been mine."

He looked every word he spoke and more.

"I am