and who were trying to prepare their hearts for a severe struggle, and
one altogether new to them, as they had never before been separated;
for, though ignorant, helpless, crushed in spirit, and weighed down
with hardship and cruel bereavement, they were still human, and their
human hearts beat within them with as true an affection as ever caused
a human heart to beat. And their anticipated separation now, in the
decline of life, after the last child had been torn from them, must
have been truly appalling. Another privilege was granted them-that of
remaining occupants of the same dark, humid cellar I have before
described: otherwise, they were to support themselves as they best
could. And as her mother was still able to do considerable work, and
her father a little, they got on for some time very comfortably. The
strangers who rented the house were humane people, and very kind to
them; they were not rich, and owned no slaves. How long this state of
things continued, we are unable to say, as Isabella had not then
sufficiently cultivated her organ of time to calculate years, or even
weeks or hours. But she thinks her mother must have lived several
years after the death of Master Charles. She remembers going to visit
her parents some three or four times before the death of her mother,
and a good deal of time seemed to her to intervene between each visit.


At length her mother's health began to decline-a fever-sore made its
ravages on one of her limbs, and the palsy began to shake her frame;
still, she and James tottered about, picking up a little here and
there, which, added to the mites contributed by their kind neighbors,
sufficed to sustain life, and drive famine from the door.