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worn on Sylvia's last day at school. She had on a cape of garnet-colored velvet, and as she came running into the room Sylvia looked at her with admiring eyes.

"You do look so pretty, Flora! And I am so glad to see you. Come up-stairs to my room and take off your things."

"It isn't half the fun going to school now that you don't come, Sylvia," responded Flora, as the three friends went up the broad staircase together. "Mammy," with her baskets, followed them, and when she had helped her little mistress lay aside her cape and hat, Flora said:

"You can go home now, Mammy, And my mother will tell you when to come after me."

"Yas, Missy," responded the old colored woman, and with a curtsey to each of the little girls she left the room.

"What makes your mammy look so sober, Flora?" questioned Grace. "She is usually all smiles; but to-day she hasn't a word to say for herself."

"Oh, the darkies are all stirred up over all this talk about their being set free," Flora answered, "and even Mammy, who was Mother's nurse, and has always been well taken care of, thinks it would be a fine thing for her children and grandchildren to be 'jes' like white folks,'" and Flora laughed scornfully.

"But that needn't make her look sober!" insisted Grace.

"I reckon she's upset because my mother sold two or three little slaves yesterday—Mammy's grandchildren," Flora answered carelessly.

Sylvia could feel her face flushing, and she said over to herself that no matter what Flora said that she, Sylvia, must remember that Flora was her guest. Beside that, had not Flora taken off the blue cockade so that Sylvia would not be reminded of the trouble at school?

But Grace felt no such restraints. She was a southern girl as well as
Flora, but she was sorry for the old colored woman.

"Well, I do wish we could keep the pickaninnies until they grow up. It seems a shame when they feel so bad to be sold off to strangers. And some of them are abused too," she said.

"You talk as if they felt just the same as we do, and that's silly,"
Flora declared; "but Philip talks just the same. He says he is going to
give Dinkie her freedom," and she turned toward the two baskets which
Mammy had set down with such care near Molly and Polly.

"I brought my lace-work, and Mother has fixed a cushion for you, Sylvia, and one for Grace, too. See! The pattern is begun on each one, and I will give you both lessons until you know as much as I do." As Flora talked she had opened the smaller basket and taken out two square boxes and handed one to each of her friends.

"Open them," she said, nodding smilingly.

The box which she handed to Sylvia was covered with plaited blue silk. It had a narrow edge of gilt braid around the cover. Grace's box was covered with yellow silk, but the boxes were of the same size.

As Sylvia and Grace lifted the covers they smiled and exclaimed happily. The lace cushion lay inside, and in dainty little pockets on each side of the boxes were the delicate threads and materials for the lace. A thimble of gold, with "Sylvia from Flora" engraved around its rim, was in Sylvia's box, and one exactly like it was in Grace's box.

"Oh, Flora Hayes! This is the most beautiful present that ever was!" declared Sylvia; and Grace, holding the box with both hands, was hopping up and down saying over and over: "Flora! You are just like the Golden Princess in a fairy story who gives people what they want most."

"My mother made the boxes herself," Flora explained proudly. "I wanted to give you girls something, and I'm awfully glad you like them." Then Flora stood up quickly.

"Girls! I dressed up in Mother's hat and skirt, that night at the plantation. It wasn't Lady Caroline."

She spoke very rapidly as if she wished to finish as quickly as possible. It was not easy to think of Flora Hayes as being ashamed, but Sylvia felt quite sure that Flora felt sorry that she had attempted to deceive her friends.

"I knew it all the time," said Grace slowly, "and I told Sylvia it was you; didn't I, Sylvia?"

"Yes," said Sylvia, "and we knew you were sure to tell us about it,
Flora. But you did look just like the picture of Lady Caroline."

Flora sat down. It had been so much easier to confess than she had expected. Neither Grace nor Sylvia had seemed resentful or surprised.

"You didn't tell me that you knew," she said, a little accusingly.

"Oh, well, we couldn't do that, Flora. You see we were your guests,"
Grace explained.

"And we knew you were sure to tell us," Sylvia added.

Flora was silent for a moment. She was thinking that both her friends had been rather fine about the whole affair. They had not run screaming from their room on the appearance of the "ghost," and alarmed the house, and so brought discovery and punishment and shame upon her; neither had they resented her not confessing.

"Well, I do think you two girls are the nicest girls in this town," she declared, "and I am mighty proud that you are my friends. I can tell you one thing: I'll never try to make anyone believe in ghosts again. I was half frightened to death myself when I crept up those stairs, and my shoulder has been lame ever since."

Grace and Sylvia had wondered what the large basket contained, but in their interest over Flora's beautiful gifts, and their delight in her "owning up" to being the "ghost," they had quite forgotten about it. It was Flora who now pointed at it and said laughingly: "I've brought my dolls in that basket."

"Molly and Polly will be glad enough to have company," Sylvia assured her.

Flora opened the basket and took out a large black "mammy" in a purple dress, white apron, and a yellow handkerchief twisted turban-fashion about her head.

"Mammy Jane always goes with the young ladies," she explained laughingly, and took out two fine china dolls dressed in white muslin with broad crimson silk sashes. Each of these fine ladies had a tiny parasol of crimson silk.

"I'm going home after my dolls," exclaimed Grace, and while Sylvia brought cushions for these unexpected visitors, and introduced them to Molly and Polly, Grace hurried home and was soon back again with her own treasured dolls, which she introduced as "Mr. and Mrs. and Miss Delaney."

The lesson in lace-making was quite forgotten as the three girls played with the array of dolls.

Sylvia ran to the door and called Estralla, who appeared so quickly that Sylvia wondered where she could have been. Estralla was told that she must help "Mammy Jane" take care of the doll visitors, and the little negro's face beamed with pleasure. Not one of the little girls in the pleasant room was as happy as Estralla; and when supper was ready and Sylvia and her friends went down-stairs, leaving Estralla in charge of all the dolls, she could hardly believe in her good fortune, and, as usual, was sure it was all due to her beloved Missy Sylvia.

After supper the dolls were all invited downstairs to be introduced to Sylvia's father and mother; and Estralla, smiling and delighted, was entrusted with bringing "Mammy Jane."

The three friends often looked back on that happy afternoon, for on the very next day Mr. Hayes decided to move his family to the plantation, and it was many days before Sylvia, Grace and Flora were to be together again. The citizens of Charleston, in December, 1860, were becoming anxious as to what might befall them. Very soon it might be possible that South Carolina would secede from the Union, and war with the northern states might follow. In such a case the guns of Fort Sumter and Fort Moultrie might fire on Charleston, and many planters who had homes in Charleston were sending their families to their country homes. Northern men who had business in Charleston were also anxious, and Sylvia did not know that her own father was seriously considering a return to Boston.

But the little girls bade each other good-night with happy smiles and laughter, and without a thought but that they would have many more pleasant times together.

Sylvia did not even think of the lace-making until she brought down her pretty box to show to her mother and father.

"The Charleston people have been so kind to us," Mrs. Fulton said, a little sadly.

"They are the most courteous and kindly people in the world," declared
Mr. Fulton.

Sylvia went up to her room wondering why her mother and father seemed so serious, when everything was so lovely. She had almost forgotten her adventure of the previous night, and went happily to bed with Flora's pretty gift on the light-stand beside her bed.

CHAPTER XIV MR. ROBERT WAITE

It was a very sober little darky who came up to Sylvia's room the next morning. She set down the pitcher of water and moved silently toward the door.

"What's the matter, Estralla?" Sylvia called; for usually Estralla was all smiles, and had a good deal to say.

Estralla shook her head. "Nuffin', Missy. I knowed you couldn't do nuffin' 'bout it. My mammy says how nobody can."

"Wait, Estralla! What do you mean?" exclaimed Sylvia, sitting up in bed.

"I'se gwine to be sold! Jes' like I tells you. My mammy was over to
Massa Waite's house las' night, and she hears ober dar dat Massa
Robert's gwine to sell off every nigger what ain't workin'—this week!"
Estralla's voice had drifted into her old-time wail.

"Oh, Estralla! What can I do?" and Sylvia was out of bed in a second, standing close beside the little colored girl.

"I dunno, Missy Sylvia. I 'spec' dar ain't nuffin' you kin do. But you has been mighty good to me," Estralla replied. "It's mighty hard to go off and leave my mammy an' never see you-all no more, Missy Sylvia. I dunno whar I'll be sent."

"Estralla, if you were earning wages for Mr. Robert Waite would he let you stay here?" Sylvia asked eagerly.

"I reckon he would, Missy. But who's a-gwine to pay wages for a pickaninny like me? Nobuddy! Missy, I'se a-gwine to run off an' hide myself 'til the Yankee soldiers comes and sets us free," said Estralla.

"You can't do that. But don't be frightened, Estralla. I have thought of something. I will hire you! Yes, I will; and pay wages for you to Mr. Waite. I'll go tell him so this very day," declared Sylvia, her face brightening, as she remembered the twenty dollars in gold which her Grandmother Fulton had given her when she had left Boston. "You can do whatever you please with it," was what Grandmother Fulton had said.

Sylvia had thought that she would ask her mother to buy her a watch with the money, but she did not remember that now. She knew that, more than anything, she would rather keep Estralla safe. Twenty dollars was a good deal of money, she reflected. If the northern soldiers would only come quickly and set the slaves free! But even if they did not come for a long time the money would surely pay Mr. Waite wages for Estralla, so that he would not insist on selling her.

Estralla's face had brightened instantly at Sylvia's promise. And when Sylvia explained that she had money of her very own, and even opened her writing desk and showed Estralla the shining gold pieces, the little darky's fears vanished. She was as sure that all would be well now, as she had been frightened and despondent when she entered the room.

"Shall I tell my mammy?" she asked eagerly.

"Yes," Sylvia responded. "I know my mother will let me. Because Grandma said I could do as I pleased with the money. And I please to pay it to Mr. Waite."

"Then I'll be your maid, won't I, Missy Sylvia?" chuckled the little darky with proud delight, "an' I'll allers go whar yo' goes, like Missy Flora Hayes' mammy does."

"Why, yes, I suppose you will," agreed Sylvia.

Sylvia had meant to tell her mother and father of her plan about Estralla at breakfast time, but her father was just leaving the dining-room when she came in.

"Are you going to ask your little friends to go out in the Butterfly this afternoon?" he asked.

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