“Now I ’clar’ for’t,” said Milly, “if here ain’t Marster John’s bootjack, fish-line, and box of tobacky, right out in far sight, and Miss Mabel comin’ in here to sleep. ’Pears like some white folks hain’t no idee of what ’longs to good manners. Here, Corind, put the jack in thar, the fish-line thar, the backy thar, and heave that ar other thrash out o’door,” pointing to some geological specimens which from time to time John Jr. had gathered, and which his mother had not thought proper to molest. Corinda obeyed, and then Aunt Milly, who really possessed good taste, began to make some alterations in the arrangement of the furniture, and under her supervision the room began to present a more cheerful and inviting aspect. “Get out with yer old airthen candlestick,” said she, turning up her broad nose at the said article, which stood upon the stand. “What’s them tall frosted ones in the parlor chamber for, if ’tain’t to use. Go, Corind, and fetch ’em.” But Corinda did not dare, and Aunt Milly went herself, taking the precaution to bring them in the tongs, so that in the _denouement_ she could stoutly deny having even “tached ’em, or even had ’em in her hands!” (So much for a subterfuge, where there is no moral training.) When Mabel heard of the change, she seemed for a moment stupefied. Had she been consulted, had Mrs. Livingstone frankly stated her reasons for wishing her to take another room, she would have consented willingly, but to be thus summarily removed without a shadow of warning, hardly came up to her ideas of justice. Still, there was no help for it, and that night the bride of three months watered her lone pillow with tears, never once closing her heavy eyelids in sleep until the dim morning light came in through the open window, and the tread of the negroes’ feet was heard in the yard below. Then, for many hours, the weary girl slumbered on, unconscious of the ill-natured remarks which her non-appearance was eliciting from Mrs. Livingstone, who said “it was strange what airs some people would put on; perhaps Mistress Mabel fancied her breakfast would be sent to her room, or kept warm for her until such time as she chose to appear, but she’d find herself mistaken, for the servants had enough to do without waiting upon her, and if she couldn’t come up to breakfast, why, she must wait until dinner time.” ’Lena and Milly, however, thought differently. Softly had the latter stolen up to her cousin’s room, gazing pityingly upon the pale, worn face, whose grieved, mournful expression told of sorrow which had come all too soon. “Let her sleep; it will do her good,” said ’Lena, adjusting the bed-clothes, and dropping the curtain so that the sunlight should not disturb her, she left the chamber. An hour after, on entering the kitchen, she found Aunt Milly preparing a rich cream toast, which, with a cup of fragrant black tea, were to be slyly conveyed to Mabel, who was now awake.