many tender memories, that she seemed to hear her father’s voice once more. She nestled close to her new friend, and repeated, in most persuasive tones, “You will buy me? Won’t you?”
“And your mother? What has become of her ? ” he asked.
“ She died of yellow fever, two days before my father. I am all alone. Nobody cares for me. You will buy me,— won’t you?”
“But tell me how you came here, my poor child,” he said.
She answered, “ I don’t know. After my father died, a great many folks came to the house, and they sold everything. They said my father was uncle to Mr. Jackson, and that I belonged to him. But Mrs. Jackson won’t let me call Mr. Duncan my father. She says, if she ever hears of my calling him so again, she’ll whip me. Do let me be your daughter! You will buy me,—won't you?”
Overcome by her entreaties, and by the pleading expression of those beautiful eyes, he said, “Well, little teaser, I will see whether Air. Jackson will sell you to me. If he will, I will send for you before long.”
“Oh, don’t send for me!” she exclaimed, moving her hands up and down with nervous rapidity. “Come yourself, and come Soon. They'll carry me to New Orleans, if you don’t come for me.”
“Well, well, child, be quiet. If I can buy you, I will come for you myself. Meanwhile, be a good girl. I won’t forget you.”
He stooped down, and sealed the promise with a kiss on her forehead. As he raised his head, lie became aware that Bill, the horse-boy, was peeping in at the door, with a broad grin upon his black face. He understood the meaning of that grin, and it seemed like an ugly imp driving away a troop of fairies. He was about to speak angrily, but checked himself with the reflection, “ They will all think so. Black or white, they will all think so. But what can I do? I must save this child from the fate that awaits her.” To Bill he merely said that he wished to see Mr.
Jackson on business, and had, therefore, changed his mind about starting before breakfast.
The bargain was not soon completed; for Mr. Jackson had formed large ideas concerning the price “Lcewizzy” would bring in the market; and Bill had told the story of what he witnessed at the crib, with sundry jocose additions, which elicited peals of laughter from his master. But the orphan had won the young man’s heart by the childlike confidence she had manifested toward him, and conscience would not allow him to break the solemn promise he had given her. After a protracted conference, he agreed to pay eight hundred dollars, and to come for Louisa the next week.
The appearance of the sun, after a long, cold storm, never made a greater change than the announcement of this arrangement produced in the countenance and manners of that desolate child. The expression of fear vanished, and listlossiussS gave place to a springing elasticity of motion. Mr. Noble could ill afford to spare so large a sum for the luxury of benevolence, and lie was well aware that the office of protector, which he had taken upon himself, must necessarily prove expensive. But when he witnessed her radiant happiness, he could not regret that he had obeyed the generous impulse of his heart. Now, for the first time, she was completely identified with the vision of that fairy child who had so captivated his fancy four years before. He never forgot the tones of her voice, and the expression of her eyes, when she kissed his hand at parting, and said, “I thank you, Sir, for buying me.”
{{c|Scene III.
In a world like this, it is much easier to plan generous enterprises than to carry them into effect. After Mr. Noble had purchased the child, he knew not how to provide a suitable home for her. At first? he placed her with his colored washerwoman. But if she remained in that situation, though her bodily wants
