Well, Abe might have been a long-lost brother, Major Randolph was so glad to see him. He made him tell his adventures from the time he left Hartley until he appeared in the Randolphs’ parlour; he showed him his sons and his daughters, and rattled on about old days. But never a word did he say about wounds and losses and disappointments; though it could hardly have escaped Abe’s affectionate eyes that, while his own outer man bore such marks of prosperity, his old master’s had grown actually shabby. By ways and means generally forthcoming to border negroes who had the courage and prudence to avail themselves of them, Abe had gone northward first, returning to Virginia, however, the moment the emancipation proclamation was issued. Hearing of Major Randolph’s absence and his own wife’s unfaithfulness, he had wandered farther and farther from his old home, and had settled at last in a far south-western state. There he had worked steadily; at first on shares, then for himself; till at the time of his visit to Virginia, he was the manager and largest shareholder of the celebrated Hot Springs of A——. Need I say how earnestly ‘Marse Dick’ was besought to try the springs for his rheumatism, to bring ‘Miss Laura’ and the family, to enjoy horses and carriages, to fish and hunt, and generally to enter into possession? Old Mrs Prescott, who still lived, shared with her son and daughter the pleasure of Abe’s return, and the young Randolphs listened with delight to such an interesting romance. And yet—truth compels me to confess that the eldest daughter gave more than one uneasy glance into the street, and was literally sitting on thorns. What if a morning caller should find a negro in the Randolph parlour? Even kind Mrs Randolph had a feeling of uneasiness as the early dinner-hour approached. But the master guessed at no such embarrassments. The hour came; the bell rang, and as easily and cordially Major Randolph said: ‘You will come to dinner with us, Abe.’ ‘After you and the family, Marse Dick.’ ‘_With_ me and the family,’ replied Major Randolph. And though Abe earnestly begged to be allowed to wait, into the dining-room he went. And I may add, that had the most curious or mischievous eyes been on the watch for solecisms of any kind, they would have been disappointed. ‘What would you have had me do?’ said Major Randolph afterwards. ‘There was Abe, dying to lavish on his old master all he possessed. Was I to be outdone in hospitality by my own old slave?’ ‘And Abe had just as much delicacy as papa,’ owned Miss Randolph, who felt she could afford to praise when the critical period was safely over—a merciful providence having kept away visitors. ‘He spoke just as good English as we do. But did you notice that, though he spoke of Mr Hartley and Mr everybody else, he always called papa “Marse Dick?”’