“Yet it is all your own, by every moral and legal right.” “What have I ever done to earn it, to win it, or to deserve it? Nothing. My father left me, his only child, this plantation. But the negroes made it what it is, not I. And the negroes have a heavy claim on me. But how is the best way to meet that claim? I shall want your wisdom to direct me. Then—as if this was not enough for one woman—my Uncle Guyon died, widowed and childless, and left me the Isle of Storms. What had I ever done to earn or win that fine sanitary sea home? Nothing whatever; and I have no right to keep it all to myself. Once, indeed, I thought of it as a summer resort for my friends and myself only, but that was the inspiration of pride and selflove. My friends were of that favored class who can choose their own summer homes among the mountains, or by the seashore, or wherever they please. The Isle of Storms was not given me for my own selfish pleasure, but for the best uses to humanity to which it can be put—perhaps as a sanatorium for destitute invalids and children. And then, again, as if this Goeberlin plantation and the Isle of Storms were not already much too much for one woman, my Uncle Thomas dies unmarried, and leaves me the silver mine in Colorado. He discovered the mine, not I. It has proved a source of almost fabulous wealth. But what have I done to earn, to win, or to deserve all that? Nothing whatever. So I know that all this is not mine, for my own selfish pride, but that it is intrusted to me as a steward of the Lord.” “Tell me, dear child, how do you propose to discharge the duties of your stewardship? What are your ideas?” “They are nebulous yet. I want your help to form them. I know there are things that I must do.” “And these?” “First, get an assistant for you.” The aged rector bent his head. “Secondly, build a school here for the free education of the colored people who have—they or their forefathers—tilled the soil for near two centuries.” “Yes! yes! yes!” assented the minister. “Thirdly, convert the Isle of Storms into a free sanatorium for destitute invalids and children, and to devote some share of my California uncle’s wealth to the necessary expenses. So far, all is clear; beyond this you will kindly direct me, Dr. Shaw.” “My child, if you set these good works going within the next year, you will have your hands as full as they can hold. Afterward we will talk of other enterprises.” “And you will aid me with your counsel?” “Assuredly I shall endeavor to do so.” “And now, immediately, will you seek out an assistant for yourself? Your wide acquaintance with the young clergy of our church will afford you facilities for suiting your parish. After you shall have secured your co-laborer, and I shall have placed the material and financial part of the school and the sanatorium in the hands of Mr. Merritt, we will go to Europe, and make that promised visit to our friends in Delfcome, this you will kindly direct me, Dr. Shaw.”