"It'll be mighty lonesome, knowin' she's gone for good," he said, "for, though she'll come back agin, she'll be married, and when a gal is married, that's the last on 'em. I wish I could give her somethin', to show her my feelin's." He examined his hands; they were hard, rough, and black. He drew from his pocket a bit of looking-glass and examined his face--that was blacker yet; and shaking his head, he whispered: "It might do for a mulatto gal, but not for her." Then, as a new idea crossed his mind, he brightened up, exclaiming, "My heart is white, and if I have a tip-top case, mebby she won't 'spise a poor old nigger's picter!" In short, John contemplated having his daguerreotype taken as a bridal present for Maude. Accordingly, that very afternoon he arrayed himself in his best, and, entering the yellow car of a traveling artist who had recently come to the village, he was soon in possession of a splendid case and a picture which he, pronounced "oncommon good-lookin' for him." This he laid carefully away until the wedding-day, which was fixed for the 15th of April. When Mr. De Vere heard of John's generosity to Maude in giving her the golden eagles, he promptly paid them back, adding five more as interest, and at the same time asking him if he would not like to accompany them to Europe. "You can be of great assistance to us," he said, "and I will gladly take you." This was a strong temptation, and for a moment the negro hesitated, but when his eye fell upon his master, who was just then entering the gate, his decision was taken, and he answered, "No, I'm bleeged to you. I'd rather stay and see the fun." "What fun?" asked Mr. De Vere; and John replied, "The fun of seein' him cotch it;" and he pointed to the doctor coming slowly up the walk, his hands behind him and his head bent forward in a musing attitude. Dr. Kennedy was at that moment in an unenviable frame of mind, for he was trying to decide whether he could part for a year or more with his crippled boy, who grew each day more dear to him. "It will do him good, I know," he said, "and I might, perhaps, consent, if I could spare the money; but I can't, for I haven't got it. That woman keeps me penniless, and will wheedle me out of two hundred dollars more. Oh, Mat--" He did not finish the sentence, for by this time he had reached the hall, where he met Mr. De Vere, who asked if Louis was to go. "He can't," answered the doctor. "I have not the means. Mrs. Kennedy says Maude's wardrobe will cost two hundred dollars." "Excuse me, sir," interrupted Mr. De Vere. "I shall attend to Maude's wants myself, and if you are not able to bear Louis' expenses, I will willingly do it for the sake of having him with his sister. They ought not to be separated, and who knows but Louis' deformity may be in a measure relieved?"