“Let us hope for the best,” Mr. Travilla responded cheerfully; “the land will still be there, perhaps the houses too; the negroes will work for wages, and gradually we may be able to restore our homes to what they were.”

“And if the war stops now, we shall probably find them still in pretty good condition,” said Elsie.

“No,” her father said, “the war is not at an end, or likely to be for a long time to come; but we will wait in patience and hope, daughter, and not grieve over losses that perhaps may bring great happiness to others.”

“Are we poor now, papa?” asked Horace anxiously.

“No, son; your sister is still very wealthy, and we all have comfortable incomes.”

“It did me good to see Uncle Joe’s delight over the news,” Mr. Travilla smilingly remarked to his wife.

“Ah, you told him then?” she returned, with a keen interest and pleasure.

“Yes, and it threw him into a transport of joy.  ‘Ki! massa,’ he said, ’neber tink to heyah sich news as dat! neber spects dis chile lib to bee freedom come;’ then sobering down, ‘but, massa, we’s been a prayin’ for it; we’s been crying to the good Lord like the chillen ob Israel when dey’s in de house ob bondage; tousands an’ tousands ob us cry day an’ night, an’ de Lord heyah, an’ now de answer hab come.  Bress de Lord!  Bress His holy name foreber an’ eber.’

“‘And what will you do with your liberty, Uncle Joe?’ I asked; then he looked half frightened.  ’Massa, you ain’t gwine to send us off? we lub you an’ Miss Elsie an’ de chillen, an’ we’s gettin’ mos’ too ole to start out new for ourselves.’”

“Well, dear, I hope you assured him that he had nothing to fear on that score.”

“Certainly; I told him they were free to go or stay as they liked, and as long as they were with, or near us, we would see that they were made comfortable.  Then he repeated, with great earnestness, that he loved us all, and could never forget what you had done in restoring him to his wife, and making them both so comfortable and happy.”

“Yes, I think they have been happy with us; and probably it was the bitter remembrance of the sufferings of his earlier life that made freedom seem so precious a boon to him.”

Going into the nursery half an hour later, Elsie was grieved and surprised to find Chloe sitting by the crib of the sleeping babe, crying and sobbing as if her very heart would break, her head bowed upon her knees, and the sobs half-smothered, lest they should disturb the child.

“Why, mammy dear, what is the matter?” she asked, going to her and laying a hand tenderly on her shoulder.

Chloe slid to her knees, and taking the soft white hand in both of hers, covered it with kisses and tears, while her whole frame shook with her bitter weeping.

“Mammy, dear mammy, what is it?” Elsie asked in real alarm, quite forgetting for the moment the news of the morning, which indeed she could never have expected to cause such distress.