“’Thar, I done forgot again, and called her _Eva_. Her name is Evangeline, and we used to call her Eva, until mother read a bad book that had little Eva in it, and then she called her Lina.” “’Twan’t a bad book, neither,” exclaimed Halbert, stopping suddenly; “Uncle Dick said ’twan’t; but it made mother mad, I tell you, and now when she gets rarin’ he calls her _Mrs. St. Clare_.” I needed no one to tell me that it was “Uncle Tom,” to which he referred, but I said nothing except to chide the children for their negro language. “I know we talk awful,” said Jessie, brushing her curls from her eyes. “Uncle Dick says we do, but I mean to learn better. I don’t talk half like I used to.” I could not help smiling in spite of myself upon the little creature bounding and frisking at my side. _Uncle Dick_ seemed to be her oracle, and after looking around to make sure that no one heard me, I asked “who he was?” “Why, he’s Uncle Dick,” said she; “the bestest uncle in the world;” while Halbert added, “He’s got a heap of money, too; and once, when ma thought I was asleep, I heard her tell Lina, that if he didn’t get married it would be divided between us, and I should have the most, ’cause I’m named after him, Richard Halbert Delafield Lansing, and they call me _Hal_, for short. I told Uncle Dick what mother said, and I tell you, he looked blacker’n a nigger; and somehow, after that he took to ridin’ and foolin’ with Ada, wonderfully.” As yet everything with me was comparatively conjecture. I did not know positively that the _Uncle Dick_ of the children was the “_dark man_” of Rosa Lee; but the answer to my next question would decide it, and half tremblingly was it put. “Who is this Ada. What is her other name?” “_Ada Montrose_, and she lives with us. Uncle Dick is her guardian,” said Halbert, throwing a bit of dirt at the negro boy who accompanied us, and who returned the young gentleman’s salute with interest.