closed, darkening the room, and the stewardess
who came to ask if she should bring her some dinner
could not see her face distinctly, but perceived
enough to make her surmise that the young lady
had been weeping.

"Po' chile," murmured the sympathetic
colored woman, "I reckon some er her folks is dead,
er her sweetheart 's gone back on her, er e'se she's
had some kin' er bad luck er 'nuther. W'ite folks
has deir troubles jes' ez well ez black folks, an'
sometimes feels 'em mo', 'cause dey ain't ez use'
ter 'em."

Mis' Molly went back in sadness to the lonely
house behind the cedars, henceforth to be peopled
for her with only the memory of those she had
loved. She had paid with her heart's blood another
installment on the Shylock's bond exacted
by society for her own happiness of the past and
her children's prospects for the future.

The journey down the sluggish river to the
seaboard in the flat-bottomed, stern-wheel steamer
lasted all day and most of the night. During the
first half-day, the boat grounded now and then
upon a sand-bank, and the half-naked negro deck-
hands toiled with ropes and poles to release it.
Several times before Rena fell asleep that night,
the steamer would tie up at a landing, and by the