While father and daughter conversed thus together in the parlor, a dusky
figure sat at a window in the adjoining bedroom, gazing out upon the
moonlighted streets and watching the passers-by. But her thoughts, too,
were straying to Viamede; fast-coming memories of earlier days, some all
bright and joyous, others filled with the gloom and thick darkness of a
terrible anguish, made her by turns long for and dread the arrival at her
journey's end.

A light touch on her shoulder, and she turned to find her young mistress
at her side.

"My poor old mammy, I bring you news you will be sorry to hear," said
Elsie, seating herself upon the ample lap, and laying her arm across the
broad shoulders.

"What dat, honey?"

"We start to-morrow for Viamede; papa has sent John to engage our passage
on the steamer."

"Dat all, darlin'?" queried Chloe, with a sigh of relief, "if we's got to
go, might's well go quick an' hab it ober."

"Well, I'm glad you take so sensible a view of it," remarked Elsie,
relieved in her turn; "and I hope you will find much less pain and more
pleasure than you expect in going back to the old home."

The next morning, as Mr. Dinsmore and his daughter sat upon the deck of
the steamer, enjoying the sunlight, the breeze, and the dancing of the
water, having cleared their port and gotten fairly out into the gulf, a