Hand-in-hand the two girls started for the house, but had not gone far when they heard some one calling, “Ho, Miss ’Lena, whar is you? Ole miss done want you.” At the same time Corinda made her appearance round the corner of the piazza. “Here, Cora,” said Anna. “Come with me to my room; I want you.” With a broad grin Corinda followed her young mistress, while ’Lena, never having been accustomed to any negro save the one with whom many New England children are threatened when they cry, clung closer to Anna’s side, occasionally casting a timid glance toward the dark-browed girl who followed them. In the upper hall they met with Carrie, who in passing ’Lena held back her dress, as if fearing contamination from a contact with her cousin’s plainer garments. Painfully alive to the slightest insult, ’Lena reddened, while Anna said, “Never mind—that’s just like Cad, but nobody cares for _her_.” Thus reassured ’Lena followed on, until they reached Anna’s room, which they were about to enter, when the shrill voice of Mrs. Nichols fell upon their ears, calling, “’Leny, ’Leny, where upon airth is she?” “Let’s go to her first,” said ’Lena, and leading the way Anna soon ushered her into her grandmother’s room which, child as she was, ’Lena readily saw was far different from the handsome apartments of which she had obtained a passing glance. But Mrs. Nichols had not thought of this—and was doubtless better satisfied with her present quarters than she would have been with the best furnished chamber in the house. The moment her granddaughter appeared, she exclaimed, “’Leny Rivers, where have you been? I was worried to death, for fear you might be runnin’ after some of them paltry niggers. And now whilst I think on’t, I charge you never to go a nigh ’em; I’d no idee they were such half-naked, nasty critters.” This prohibition was a novelty to Anna, who spent many happy hours with her sable-hued companions, never deeming herself the worse for it. Her grandmother’s first remark, however, struck her still more forcibly, and she immediately asked, “Grandma, what did you call ’Lena, just now? ’Lena what?” “I called her by her name, ’Lena Rivers. What should I call her?” returned Mrs. Nichols. “Why, I thought her name was ’Lena Nichols; ma said ’twas,” answered Anna. Mrs. Nichols was very sensitive to any slight cast upon ’Lena’s birth, and she rather tartly informed Anna, that “her mother didn’t know everything,” adding that “’Lena’s father was Mr. Rivers, and there wasn’t half so much reason why she should be called Nichols as there was why Anna should, for that was her father’s name, the one by which he was baptized, the same day with Nancy Scovandyke, who’s jest his age, only he was born about a quarter past four in the morning, and she not till some time in the afternoon!” “But where is Mr. Rivers?” asked Anna more interested in him than in the exact minute of her father’s birth.