Her father bent upon her a puzzled look. Here was still another factor in the motives, or the impulses, which had moved her to action. How much had she been impelled by desire to save her lover from harm and how much by the determination to help the slave to liberty? He wished he knew, so that he might judge just how deeply and how permanently her renewed abhorrence of slavery had taken root. He knew that if she went into the Underground work he could depend upon her to be loyal, capable and discreet, but he drew back from asking her to take part in it unless she could do so whole-heartedly with conviction as intense as his own. “Perhaps, then, you saved his life,” he said quietly, and then went on with a deeper significance in his tone, “as well as got for the slave his freedom, which is more than life to him.” “Father, I want to do something!” she broke out suddenly. “Is there anything a girl can do? I know now that I can’t marry Mr. Delavan--I--I love him--and if he wasn’t a slaveholder I’d be glad to be his wife--and I know I’d be happy. But I couldn’t--I just couldn’t feel myself responsible the least bit for those poor creatures being slaves. It’s wrong, father, it’s all wrong, and horrible, and I won’t have anything to do with it. I tried to think I could, for a while, because I love Jeff so much and I wanted so to be his wife. But this awful slavery would be between us all the time--and I hate it, father, I hate it as much as you do, and I want to do something to help put it down!” He looked at her with surprise, triumphant rejoicing in his heart. This was a different Rhoda from any he had known. She sat still and spoke quietly, but he saw that her hands were clenched and in her low voice vibrated passionate earnestness. The black face of the housemaid appeared at the door. “What is it, Lizzie?” he questioned. “A letter, sah, a big, fat letter, fo’ Miss Rhoda. A boy brought it, jess now.” Rhoda tore open the envelope, curiosity getting the better, for a moment, of the feeling that had just burst through all her usual barriers of restraint. “It’s the papers freeing that slave!” she cried. “It was good of Jeff to do this, wasn’t it, father?” Together they glanced through the document. “I’m so glad I held out,” she exclaimed. “How happy that poor man will be when he sees this!” “You see, Rhoda, you’ve done something already!” “Yes, and I want to do more. Father, you do something--I don’t know what--but I know you work as well as talk. Can’t I help?” She had never seen him look at her with such pride and gratification. Her heart leaped in response and she flushed with gladness.