“Jefferson Delavan, of Fairmount, just beyond Lexington. He was a kind man and never sold any of the slaves. His mother, old mistress, was kind too, when she was alive, and she took pains with some of us. She was teaching me to be her maid. But Miss Emily’s different. She’s sold nearly all of us that fell to her share.” Dr. Ware stole an anxious glance at Rhoda. She was sitting at the bedside, with the woman’s hand clasped in hers, her eyes straight in front, her lips pressed together and her face stern. “It’s hardly fair to make the blame personal,” he ventured. She flashed up at him indignant eyes and her voice was bitter with scorn as she replied: “But he allowed her to be sold, father, and for such a purpose!” He hesitated, considering a temptation. In his daughter’s present mood it would be easy to deepen this impulse of condemnation and so perhaps undermine her love for Delavan. But the next instant he told himself that it would not be fair. “The man has enough to answer for--let him at least have justice,” was his thought. Rhoda felt his calm eyes upon her, but she would not meet them. “You must remember,” he was saying judicially, “that no man can be better than the system of which he is a part. It is quite possible that Delavan knew nothing of all this, except that his sister chose certain slaves as her share. I don’t know very much about him, but I think he’s decent enough to have protested if he had known of this woman’s fate. I also think it’s most unlikely it would have done any good if he had. And there it is, Rhoda! No matter how well-intentioned an individual slaveholder may be, he is likely to be swept along any minute by his system into its worst abominations. Our indictment must always be against the system, not against individuals.” When Rhoda knelt at her bedside that night the look of scorn had faded from her countenance and in its place were tears. “Dear Father in Heaven,” she prayed, “do not let Thy punishment fall upon him. He knows not what he does. His eyes are so blinded that he cannot see how evil these things are. Do not punish him, do not let Thy vengeance fall upon him, until his eyes are opened and he sees that they are evil. And grant, O God, I beg of Thee, grant me this, that I may make amends to this poor creature for his wrong. If Thy vengeance is ripe and can be stayed no longer, let it fall upon my head. Let me bear his punishment. But grant me first that I may save her.”