Bella said that she would come by and by.
Lina went to Aunt Claudine, and afforded her some real consolation, and even pleasure.
"Oh," asked Lina, "are Africans and negroes the same thing?"
"Most certainly."
"Well, I can't tell you how much I dislike Africans and negroes. I've nothing to say against their being free, why shouldn't they be? But they might have become so before this or afterwards: why, just at this very time? Why must they deprive me of my beautiful season of betrothal? Nobody is disposed to be merry, nobody talks of any thing else, by reason of these negroes. It's the fashion even to wear chains now, called Châines d'esclaves,—Oh, I wanted to ask you something—what was it—yes, I know now. Just tell me what they're going to do when the negroes get to be good people just like everybody else, what they're going to do then with the Devil?"
"What has the Devil to do with it?"
"Why, how are they going to paint the Devil, if he's not to be black any longer?"
Aunt Claudine had to indulge in a most hearty laugh, and she was very much rejoiced to be reminded that, in the midst of this monotonously sombre life, there was some liveliness still left in the world.
She was ready to go with Lina to the Castle, but just as they were leaving the house, Bella came. She begged that Aunt Claudine and Lina would not put off their excursion on her account, and shut herself up in the library, while the Aunt and Lina proceeded to the castle. They remained there until the afternoon, and often looked down to the Villa where "the men were all engaged in such a queer business," as Lina expressed herself.
Bella did not stay long in the library, but quickly returned to the villa, and noiselessly went up the steps overgrown with mistaria.