not, she has sense as well as beauty."

"Yes," sighed the mother, "she's got good
sense. She ain't as quick as you was, an' don't
read as many books, but she's keerful an' painstakin',
an' always tries to do what's right. She's
be'n thinkin' about goin' away somewhere an'
tryin' to git a school to teach, er somethin', sence
the Yankees have started 'em everywhere for po'
white folks an' niggers too. But I don't like fer
her to go too fur."

"With such beauty and brains," continued
Warwick, "she could leave this town and make
a place for herself. The place is already made.
She has only to step into my carriage--after perhaps
a little preparation--and ride up the hill
which I have had to climb so painfully. It would
be a great pleasure to me to see her at the top.
But of course it is impossible--a mere idle dream.
YOUR claim comes first; her duty chains her
here."

"It would be so lonely without her," murmured
the mother weakly, "an' I love her so--my las'
one!"

"No doubt--no doubt," returned Warwick,
with a sympathetic sigh; "of course you love her.
It's not to be thought of for a moment. It's a