"Ah dear, yes, our poor, poor people! When I think of them, Miss Bruce, scattered and astray, with no one to advise them, it makes my heart bleed. For they must be suffering in so many ways; take the one instance of the poor women in their confinements; we used to go to them, and be with them to cheer their time of trial. But now, separated from us, from our care and oversight, what _can_ they do? If the people who have been so rash in freeing them had only thought of even that one thing! But I suppose they did not think of it, and naturally, because the abolitionist societies, we are told, were composed principally of old maids." Eve laughed. "Why can't they have nurses, as other people do?" "You don't mean regular monthly nurses, of course?" "Why not?--if they can afford to pay for them. They might club together to supply them." "Oh, I don't think that would be at all appropriate, really. And Eve does not mean it, I assure you," said Miss Sabrina, coming to the rescue; "her views are perfectly reasonable, dear Mrs. Singleton; you would be surprised." "You would indeed!" Eve thought. But they talked no more of the nig-roes. "How is Miss Hillsborough?" Miss Sabrina asked. "Right well, I am glad to say. My dear Aunt Peggy, Miss Bruce; and what she is to me I can hardly tell you! You know I am something of a talker"--here Mrs. Singleton laughed softly. "And we are so much alone here now, that, were it not for Aunt Peggy, I should fairly have to talk to the chickens!" (One at least would be ready, Eve thought.) "Don't you know that there are ever so many little things each day that we want to _say_ to somebody?" Mrs. Singleton went on. "Thinking them is not enough. And these dear people, like Aunt Peggy, who sit still and listen;--it isn't what they answer that's of consequence; in fact they seldom say much; it's just the chance they give us of putting our own thought into words and seeing how it looks. It _does_ make such a difference." "You are fortunate," Eve answered. "And then you have your little boy, too; Cicely has told me about him--Rupert; she says he is a dear little fellow." "Dear heart!" exclaimed Miss Sabrina, distressed. "Cicely is sometimes--yes--" But Mrs. Singleton laughed merrily. "I will show him to you presently," she said. "Mr. Singleton is so extraordinarily agreeable!" said Miss Sabrina, with unwonted animation. "Oh yes, he is wonderful; and he is a statesman too, a second Patrick Henry. But then as regards the little things of each _day_, you know, we don't go to our husbands with _those_." "What do you do, then?--I mean with the husbands," Eve asked. "I think we admire them," answered Mrs. Singleton, simply. Lucasta, the negro girl, now appeared with a tray. "Pray take some Madeira," said their hostess, filling the tiny glasses. "And plum-cake."