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'Nothing; she is a much better girl than she used to be. But I want to
ask you, whose is she--yours or mine?'

'Why yours, of course; I gave her to you,' said Mr. St. Clare.

'But not by law. There is no use my trying to make this child a
Christian, unless I can be quite sure that she will not be sold as a
slave again. If you are really willing I should have her, I want you to
give me a paper saying she is mine.'

'But you think it is wicked to keep slaves. Now you want to have one of
your own. Oh! shocking, cousin,' said Mr. St. Clare, who loved to tease.

'Nonsense! I only want to have her, so that I can set her free.'

'Very well,' said Mr. St. Clare, 'I will write the paper for you.' Then
he sat down and began to read.

'But I want it done now,' said Miss Ophelia.

'Why are you in such a hurry?'

'Because now is the only time there ever is to do a thing in,' said Miss
Ophelia. 'want to make sure of it. You may die or lose all your money.
Then Topsy would be taken away and sold, in spite of anything I could
say.'