"Believe me, Frank, it is not the consideration that you are a gentleman by long descent that weighs with me," she said, "and I hope I am not wanting in thankfulness to this good man who has been so much your friend. I could give him anything else, but not my Frank to be a slave. For that is what it would be. There would not be some things to bear in Mr. Ulceby's counting-house which Virginian slaves endure, but the life would be little better than theirs--for you. You would have to do not only with Mr. Ulceby, but with his clerks and servants; and every one of them would despise you for your ignorance of his little knowledge, or hate you for being a gentleman, or both. And how could you bring your mind or body to sustain the confinement and the weary sameness of mechanical drudgery?" I need not record what I said on the other part, since I was not fated to the course I would have taken. I put down Anna's words of wisdom for love's sake, though I yet believe that the pride which she disowned had more influence with her than perhaps she knew. And to tell the truth I loved her none the less on that account. My prudent lady would have me beware lest, in my haste to be honest and desire to prove my gratitude, I should imperil all our future; it might take time to find employment more genial and suitable, but she doubted not it would be found. She would like to speak with Vermuijden, who at this time was in command of the settlement. This led her to say that the Islonian labourers, who had been hired by him, had been so much persecuted by their neighbours that it had been necessary to find them lodging within the pale, where they had come to good terms with the Dutch, and to a particular kindness toward her father and herself. Bess Boswell had left her father and her tribe, and for the present had shelter in Sandtoft. Of these and other matters, which need not be written, we talked until late.