With Louise, Daph had another difficulty. The child was usually gentle and submissive, but she seemed to pine for other companions, and a home different from that which Daph was able to provide for her. The early lessons of piety which Louise had learned at her mother’s knee, had faded from her mind. Daph could remind the little girl to say her simple prayer at morning and evening, but she could not talk to her of the loving Saviour, or recount the wonders of the Gospel she had never read. The little book, with the golden clasps, Daph had cherished with the utmost care. She knew it contained the secret which could bring peace and order to her little home, but its treasures she, in her ignorance, could not unlock. Once she had ventured to ask Mrs. Ray to read a little to her from it, but she met with a short negative, and a cold, averted look. Mary was almost as ignorant of letters as Daph herself. So the poor negro kept the precious book unopened, and awaited God’s time for leading her from darkness unto light. That the children of her dear mistress would be allowed to grow up, ignorant of the knowledge that belonged to their station, and strangers to the Bible their mother had loved, Daph would not allow herself to believe. “It will come, I’se sure!” Daph would say to herself; “de great Lord can make it right!” and thus she stifled her anxious forebodings, and strove to do the duty of the present hour. Mrs. Ray’s temper was not quite as trying as when Daph first made her acquaintance. The kindness of the honest negro, and her cheerful acceptance of the trials of her lot, had their influence under that humble roof, and won respect and affection, even from Mrs. Ray. The sunshine of Charlie’s happy, roguish face, had cheered the lonely widow, and Louise had exerted on her a softening, refining influence. Mrs. Ray was improved, but not thoroughly changed. Little Mary had many harsh words yet to hear, but time had abated the poignancy of the mother’s grief for her lost darling, and made her somewhat more alive to the virtues of her hard-working, quiet, little girl. During the three years that had passed, since they had dwelt under the same roof, sickness, at various times, had made the little household seem like one family, and the habit of helping each other had daily drawn them nearer. Mary’s demure face was lighted up with wonder as she said to Daph, one day, “There’s a gentleman at the door, asking if mother still lives here, and if you are at home.” “Is it a tall, tall gentleman, that looks grand-like and magnificent?” said Daph, earnestly, as the thought of her master at once rose to her mind. “Not exactly,” said Mary, and, as she spoke, Mrs. Ray opened the door, and ushered in Captain Jones.