"I have wondered, Louise, why you did not come sooner."
"Well, the fact is, Ann, I've been busy trying to find you a home. I couldn't bear to come without bringing you good news. Henry and I have worked hard. All of our leisure moments have been devoted to it. We have scoured this city over, but with no success; and, hearing yesterday that Mr. Atkins would start down the river to-morrow, with all of you, I could defer coming no longer. Poor Henry is too much distressed to come! He says he'll not sleep this night, but will ransack the city till he finds somebody able and willing to rescue you."
"How does he look?" I asked.
"Six years older than when you saw him last. He takes this very hard; has lost his appetite, and can't sleep at night."
I said nothing; but my heart was full, full to overflowing. I longed to be alone, to fall with my face on the earth and weep. The presence of Louise restrained me, for I always shrank from exposing my feelings.
"Are we going to-morrow?" I inquired.
"Yes, Mr. Atkins told me so this evening. Did you not know of it?"
"No, indeed; am I among the lot?"
After a moment's hesitation she replied,
"Yes, he told me that you were, and, on account of your beauty, he expected you would bring a good price in the Southern market. Oh heavens, Ann, this is too dreadful to repeat; yet you will have to know of it."