"Nothing I can tell you now, Estralla," she said, wiping away her tears.
Estralla looked quite ready to weep with her young mistress, but she lit the fire, and crept silently out of the room.
Sylvia dressed as quickly as possible, picked up the papers and ran to her mother's room.
"Look, Mother! It's dreadful. It wasn't a picture of Mr. Robert Waite at all. It's just a lot of papers about Estralla and Aunt Connie being sold," and Sylvia began to cry bitterly.
Mr. Fulton took the papers and looked them over, while Sylvia with her mother's arm about her sobbed out her disappointment.
"Sold! Estralla! Why, my dear Sylvia, these papers give Aunt Connie and Estralla their freedom, from yesterday. And these," and Mr. Fulton held up the smaller documents, "give them permission to leave Charleston for the north at any time within six months."
For a moment neither Sylvia nor her mother made any response to this wonderful statement.
"Truly, Father? Truly?" exclaimed Sylvia with shining eyes.
"Yes. These papers have been recorded. Estralla and her mother are no longer slaves. They are free," said Mr. Fulton, as he folded the papers. "Mr. Waite has made you the finest gift in the world, little daughter," he added seriously.
"And Estralla and Aunt Connie may go to Boston with us?" pleaded
Sylvia, quite sure that her father and mother would agree. "Won't
Grandma be surprised to see them?"