"Oh, yes, I was named for that song. And, if you please, Mr. Waite, would you let me pay you wages for Estralla?"
"For Estralla? Now, of course, I ought to know all about Estralla. But, you see, I have a man who attends to the names, and all that, of my negroes. But perhaps you can tell me who Estralla is?" replied Mr. Waite.
"If you please, sir, she is Aunt Connie's little girl, and she lives with us, and I like her, and I thought—" began Sylvia, but Mr. Waite raised his hand, and she stopped suddenly.
"I see! I see! You want her to wait upon you. I see. Quite right. But if she is living in your house she is not costing me a penny for board. So I am indebted to you. Well! Well! I must see that whatever you wish is carried out. You need not pay me wages, little Miss Sylvia, but you shall have the girl for your own servant as long as you live in my house, and I am delighted to have you take her off my hands. Yes, indeed! Yes, indeed!" and Mr. Waite smiled and bowed, and seemed exactly like Santa Claus.
"I'm ever so much obliged," said Sylvia. "I like Estralla."
"Do you? Yes! Well! And I hope you will come again, Miss Sylvia. I am greatly pleased to have made your acquaintance," and the polite gentleman escorted her to the door, where he bade her good-bye with such an elegant bow that Sylvia nearly fell backward in her effort to make as low a curtsey as seemed necessary.
Estralla had hidden herself behind some shrubbery, and joined Sylvia at the gate.
"Would he hire me out, Missy?" she asked eagerly.
"My, no!" answered Sylvia, and before she could explain the generosity of Estralla's owner, the little darky was wailing and sobbing: "I knowed I'd be sold! I knowed it."
"Keep still, Estralla! Mr. Waite says I may have you without paying him. Just as long as I live in his house he said you were to be my maid! Oh, Estralla! He was just as kind and polite as if I had been a grown-up young lady," said Sylvia with enthusiasm.