"No, I do not wish it now, papa," she said, in a low, sweet voice. "I
will undertake it, asking Him for wisdom and grace to do it aright."
They were busy for the next hour or two over the papers.
"There!" cried Elsie, at length, "we have examined the last one, and I
think I understand it all pretty thoroughly."
"I think you do. And now another thing; ought you not to go and see for
yourself your property in Louisiana?"
Elsie assented, on condition that he would take her.
"Certainly, my dear child, can you suppose I would ever think of
permitting you to go alone?"
"Thank you, papa. And if poor mammy objects this time, she may take her
choice of going or staying; but go I must, and see how my poor people are
faring at Viamede. I have dim, dreamy recollections of it as a kind of
earthly paradise. Papa, do you know why mammy has always been so
distressed whenever I talked of going there?"
"Painful associations, no doubt. Poor creature! it was there her
husband--an unruly negro belonging to a neighboring planter--was sold away
from her, and there she lost her children, one by accidental drowning, the
others by some epidemic disease. Your own mother, too, died there, and
Chloe I think never loved one of her own children better.
Pages:
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33