things, will they?"

"Don't talk, granny," whispered 'Lena, painfully conscious of the
curious eyes fixed upon them by the bevy of blacks, who had come out
to greet their master, and who with sidelong glances at each other,
were inspecting the new comers.

"Don't talk! why not?" said Mrs. Nichols, rather sharply. "This is a
free country I suppose." Then bethinking herself, she added quickly,
"Oh, I forgot, 'taint free _here_!"

After examining the satchel and finding that the night gown sleeve
was safe, Mrs. Nichols took up her line of march for the house,
herself carrying her umbrella and band-box, which she would not
intrust to the care of the negroes, "as like enough they'd break the
umberell, or squash her caps."

"The trumpery room is plenty good enough for 'em," thought Corinda,
retreating into the kitchen and cutting sundry flourishes in token of
her contempt.

The moment 'Lena came in sight, Mrs. Livingstone exclaimed, "Oh,
mercy, which is the oldest?" and truly, poor 'Lena did present a
sorry figure,

Her bonnet, never very handsome or fashionable, had received an ugly
crook in front, which neither her grandmother or uncle had noticed,
and of which John Jr. would not tell her, thinking that the worse she
looked the more fun he would have! Her skirts were not very full,
and her dress hung straight around her, making her of the same