o her father, as he was about taking his hat to leave the house.

"I shall not trouble myself to do any such thing," replied the
hard-hearted parson. "I leave the finding of a master for her with the
slave-dealer."

Bathed in tears, Miss. Wilson paced her room in the absence of her
father. For many months Georgiana had been in a decline, and any little
trouble would lay her on a sick bed for days. She was, therefore,
poorly able to bear the loss of this companion, whom she so dearly
loved.

Mr. Wilson had informed his daughter that Clotelle was to be flogged;
and when Felice came in and informed her mistress that the poor girl
had just received fifty lashes on her bare person, the young lady
fainted and fell on the floor. The servants placed their mistress on
the sofa, and went in pursuit of their master. Little did the preacher
think, on returning to his daughter, that he should soon be bereft of
her; yet such was to be his lot. A blood-vessel had been ruptured, and
the three physicians who were called in told the father that he must
prepare to lose his child. That moral courage and calmness, which was
her great characteristic, did not forsake Georgiana in her hour of
death. She had ever been kind to the slaves under her charge, and they
loved and respected her. At her request, the servants were all brought
into her room, and took a last farewell of their mistress. Seldom, if
ever, was there witnessed a more touching scene than this. There lay
the young woman, pale and feeble, with death stamped upon her
countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa, some of
whom had been separated from every earthly tie, and the most of whose
persons had been torn and gashed by the negro-whip. Some were upon
their knees at the bedside, others standing around, and all weeping.

Death is a leveler; and neither age, sex, wealth, nor condition, can
avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers must
soon fade and droop and die. So, also, with man; his days are as
uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of
health and vigor, but the next, he may be counted with the number no
more known on earth. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when this
young flower was gone! In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this
cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and
mourning heard in that stately dwelling when the stricken friends,
whose office it had been to nurse and