jumped into the fire, and she called on me to pull her out. Unfortunately,
I cannot heal all the burns, for I yesterday received an answer to my
letter to her mistress, who positively refuses to take her back. She is
willing, but Mr. Casey will not consent to it. He says that his wife was
made very sick by the shock of losing Susan, and the over-exertion
necessary in the care of her child. The baby died in Boston; and they
cannot overlook Susan's deserting it at a hotel, without any one to take
charge of it; they placing such perfect confidence in Susan, too. He thinks
her presence would constantly recall to Mrs. Casey her child's death;
besides, after having lived among Abolitionists, he fancies it would not be
prudent to bring her on the plantation. Having attained her freedom, he
says she must make the best of it. Mrs. Casey enclosed me ten dollars to
give to Susan, for I wrote her she was in bad health, and had very little
clothing when she came to me. Poor girl! I could hardly persuade her to
take the money, and soon after, she brought it to me and asked me to keep
it for her, and not to change the note that came from home. I felt very
sorry for her."

"She deserves it," said Mr. Kent.

"I think she does," said Mrs. Moore, smiling, "though for another reason."

Mr. Kent blushed as only men with light hair, and light skin, and light
eyes, can blush.

"I mean," said Mr. Kent, furiously, "she deserves her refusal for her
ingratitude. After God provided her friends who made her a free woman, she
is so senseless as to want to go back to be lashed and trodden under foot
again, as the slaves of the South are. I say, she deserves it for being
such a fool."