up to her full height, and flashing one look of scorn and
indignation out of her dark eyes upon the crest-fallen Spriggs, she
addressed him with the air of a queen. "You, sir, will meet me in the
library at eight o'clock this evening."

Turning to the men, "Dig up that post, and split it into kindling-wood for
the kitchen fire."

Her father, while shaking hands with the blacks, speaking a kindly word to
each, regarded her with mingled curiosity and admiration; thoroughly
acquainted with his child as he had believed himself to be, he now saw her
in a new character.

She took his arm, and he felt that she was trembling very much. He
supported her tenderly, while the women flocked about them, eagerly
welcoming her to Viamede; kissing her hand, and declaring with tears in
their eyes, that it was just their "dear dead young missus come back to
them, like a beautiful white angel."

The first who claimed her attention, introduced herself as "Aunt Phillis
de housekeepah. An' I'se got eberyting ready for you, honey; de beds is
aired, de fires laid in de drawin'-room, an' library, an' sleepin' rooms,
an' de pantry full ob the nicest tings dis chile an' ole Aunt Sally know
how to cook; an' I sent Jack right to de house to start de fires de fust
minute dese ole eyes catch sight ob massa an' young missus, an' knows dey
heyah."

"My dear child, all this is quite too much for you," said Mr. Dinsmore,
attempting to draw his daughter away.

"Just a moment, papa, please," she answered in a slightly unsteady voice;
"let me speak to them all." He yielded, but cut short the garrulity of
some who would have liked to mingle reminiscences of her baby-hood with
their rejoicing over her return, telling them they must reserve such
communication for a more suitable time, as their young mistress was faint
and weary, and must have rest.

The appearance of Chloe and her recovered husband upon the scene, now
created a diversion in their favor, and he presently succeeded in leading
Elsie to the house.

A young mulatto girl followed them into the drawing-room, where a bright
wood-fire was blazing on the hearth, asking if she should take Miss
Elsie's things.

"Yes," Mr. Dinsmore said, removing his daughter's hat and shawl, and
handing them to her.

She left the room; and taking Elsie in his arms, and gently laying her
head upon his breast, "Let the tears have their way, darling," he said,
"it will do you good."

For several minutes the tea