Supper had been delayed for Hugh, and as he took his seat at the table, he inquired after Adah. “Pretty well when I left,” said his mother, adding that Lulu had been there since, and reported her as looking pale and worn, while Aunt Eunice seemed worried with Willie, who was inclined to be fretful. “They need some one,” Hugh said. “Can’t you spare Lulu?” Mrs. Worthington did not know, but ’Lina, to whom Lulu was a kind of waiting-maid, took the matter up, and said, “Indeed they couldn’t. There was no one at Spring Bank more useful, and it was preposterous for Hugh to think of giving their best servant to Adah Hastings. Let her take care of her baby herself. She guessed it wouldn’t hurt her. Any way, they couldn’t afford to keep a servant for her.” With a long drawn sigh, Hugh finished his supper, and was about lighting his cigar when he felt some one touching him, and turning round he saw that Sam had grasped his coat. The negro had heard the conversation, and drawn correct conclusions. His new master was not rich. He could not afford to buy him, and having bought him could not afford to keep him. There was a sigh in the old man’s heart, as he thought how useless he was, but when he heard about the baby, his spirits rose at once. In all the world there was nothing so precious to Sam as a little white child, with waxen hands to pat his old black face, and his work was found. “Mas’r,” he whispered, “Sam kin take keer that baby. He knows how, and the little childrens in Georgy, whar I comed from, used to be mighty fond of Sam. I’ll tend to the young lady too. May I, Mas’r?” Sam did not look much like Hugh’s ideas of a child’s nurse or a ladie’s waiting-maid, but necessity knows no choice, and thinking the old man might answer for Willie until something better offered, he replied, “Perhaps you may. I will see to-morrow.” Then, stepping to the door he called Claib, and bidding him show Sam where he was to sleep, repaired himself to his own cold chamber which seemed doubly comfortless and dreary from its contrast with the warm pleasant sitting-room where the selfish ’Lina, delighted at his absence, was again admiring the handsome silk, which Adah was to make. CHAPTER XI. SAM AND ADAH. With heavy eyes and aching head Adah worked day after day upon the dress, which ’Lina had coaxed her to make, saying both to her and Aunt Eunice that, as she wished to surprise Hugh with a sight of herself in full array, they were not to tell him that the dress was new, but suffer him to think it the old pink silk which she was fixing. “I hardly suppose he’d know the difference,” she said, “but if you can arrange it not to work when he is here, I wish you would.”