and during every moment of the livelong day was in her heart
or on her lips.

One forenoon, as she was drawing her weary length along with
the accustomed gang, picking the ripe, bursting cotton-bolls,
a messenger arrived to say that she was wanted by the master.
She almost fainted at the summons. What could he want her for?
Surely it was not for good. Was he going to inflict cruelty again
as unmerited as it had before been? She threw off her cotton-sack
from her neck, to obey the summons; but she trembled so that she
could scarcely walk. Her knees smote one against another,
her heart throbbed, and her tongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth
in her excitement and fright. As she drew near to the house,
she perceived her master with haughty strides walking up and down
the veranda, his hands behind him and his head thrown back, his whole
appearance bearing witness to the proud, imperious spirit within.
A gentleman of milder aspect was seated on a chair, intently eying
Tidy as she approached, and she heard him say,--

"Can you recommend her, Turner? Do you really think she is capable
of filling the place?"

"Capable!" said the master. "Take off that bag, and dress her,
and you'll see. TOO smart, that's her fault. YOU'LL see."

"I like her looks; I'll try her," was the reply; and this was all
the intimation Tidy had that she had been transferred to another master.
Her heart leaped within her at what she heard; but when peremptorily
told to get ready to follow Mr. Meesham, she hesitated.
What for, do you think? Her first impulse was to throw herself