w to trouble themselves
about the secluded life of an obscure woman of a class which had no
recognized place in the social economy. She worshiped the ground upon
which her lord walked, was humbly grateful for his protection, and
quite as faithful as the forbidden marriage vow could possibly have
made her. She led her life in material peace and comfort, and with a
certain amount of dignity. Of her false relation to society she was
not without some vague conception; but the moral point involved was so
confused with other questions growing out--of slavery and caste as to
cause her, as a rule, but little uneasiness; and only now and then, in
the moments of deeper feeling that come sometimes to all who live and
love, did there break through the mists of ignorance and prejudice
surrounding her a flash of light by which she saw, so far as she was
capable of seeing, her true position, which in the clear light of truth
no special pleading could entirely justify. For she was free, she had
not the slave's excuse. With every inducement to do evil and few
incentives to do well, and hence entitled to charitable judgment, she
yet had freedom of choice, and therefore could not wholly escape blame.
Let it be said, in further extenuation, that no other woman lived in
neglect or sorrow because of her. She robbed no one else. For what
life gave her she returned an equivalent; and what she did not pay, her
children settled to the last farthing.

Several years before the war, when Mis' Molly's daughter Rena was a few
years old, death had suddenly removed the source of their prosperity.

The household was not left entirely destitute. Mis' Molly owned her
home, and had a store of gold pieces in the chest beneath her bed. A
small piece of real estate stood in the name of each of the children,
the income from which contributed to their maintenance. Larger
expectations were dependent upon the discovery of a promised will,
which never came to light. Mis' Molly wore black for several years
after this bereavement, until the teacher and the preacher, following
close upon the heels of military occupation, suggested to the colored
people new standards of life and character, in the light of which Mis'
Molly laid her mourning sadly and shamefacedly aside. She had eaten of
the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. After the war she formed the habit
of church-going, and might have been seen now and then, with her
daughter, in a retired corner of the