Uncle Tom's Cabin eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 531 pages of information about Uncle Tom's Cabin.

There were still flowers on the shelves,—­all white, delicate and fragrant, with graceful, drooping leaves.  Eva’s little table, covered with white, bore on it her favorite vase, with a single white moss rose-bud in it.  The folds of the drapery, the fall of the curtains, had been arranged and rearranged, by Adolph and Rosa, with that nicety of eye which characterizes their race.  Even now, while St. Clare stood there thinking, little Rosa tripped softly into the chamber with a basket of white flowers.  She stepped back when she saw St. Clare, and stopped respectfully; but, seeing that he did not observe her, she came forward to place them around the dead.  St. Clare saw her as in a dream, while she placed in the small hands a fair cape jessamine, and, with admirable taste, disposed other flowers around the couch.

The door opened again, and Topsy, her eyes swelled with crying, appeared, holding something under her apron.  Rosa made a quick forbidding gesture; but she took a step into the room.

“You must go out,” said Rosa, in a sharp, positive whisper; “you haven’t any business here!”

“O, do let me!  I brought a flower,—­such a pretty one!” said Topsy, holding up a half-blown tea rose-bud.  “Do let me put just one there.”

“Get along!” said Rosa, more decidedly.

“Let her stay!” said St. Clare, suddenly stamping his foot.  “She shall come.”

Rosa suddenly retreated, and Topsy came forward and laid her offering at the feet of the corpse; then suddenly, with a wild and bitter cry, she threw herself on the floor alongside the bed, and wept, and moaned aloud.

Miss Ophelia hastened into the room, and tried to raise and silence her; but in vain.

“O, Miss Eva! oh, Miss Eva!  I wish I ’s dead, too,—­I do!”

There was a piercing wildness in the cry; the blood flushed into St. Clare’s white, marble-like face, and the first tears he had shed since Eva died stood in his eyes.

“Get up, child,” said Miss Ophelia, in a softened voice; “don’t cry so.  Miss Eva is gone to heaven; she is an angel.”

“But I can’t see her!” said Topsy.  “I never shall see her!” and she sobbed again.

They all stood a moment in silence.

She said she loved me,” said Topsy,—­“she did!  O, dear! oh, dear! there an’t nobody left now,—­there an’t!”

“That’s true enough” said St. Clare; “but do,” he said to Miss Ophelia, “see if you can’t comfort the poor creature.”

“I jist wish I hadn’t never been born,” said Topsy.  “I didn’t want to be born, no ways; and I don’t see no use on ’t.”

Miss Ophelia raised her gently, but firmly, and took her from the room; but, as she did so, some tears fell from her eyes.

“Topsy, you poor child,” she said, as she led her into her room, “don’t give up! I can love you, though I am not like that dear little child.  I hope I’ve learnt something of the love of Christ from her.  I can love you; I do, and I’ll try to help you to grow up a good Christian girl.”

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
Uncle Tom's Cabin from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.