"Yes," said Miss Jane, "I was just telling Miss Emily of our plans; and I think we may as well bring Amy in the house. She is of no account in the kitchen, and Lindy, Ginsy, and those brats, can be sold for a very pretty sum if taken to the city of L——, and put upon the block, or disposed of to some wealthy trader."
"What children?" asked Miss Bradly.
"Why, Amy's two sisters and brother, and Ginsy's child, and Ginsy too, if pa will let her go."
My heart ached well-nigh to bursting, when I heard this. Poor, poor Amy, child-sufferer! another drop of gall added to thy draught of wormwood—another thorn added to thy wearing crown. Oh, God! how I shuddered for the victim.
Miss Jane went on in her usual heartless tone. "It is expensive to keep them; they are no account, no profit to us; and young niggers are my 'special aversion. I have, for a long time, intended separating Amy from her two little sisters; she doesn't do anything but nurse that sickly child, Ben, and it is scandalous. You see, Miss Emily, we want an arbor erected in the yard, and a conservatory, and some new-style table furniture."
"Yes, and I want a set of jewels, and a good many additions to my wardrobe, and Jane wishes to spend a winter in the city. She will be forced to have a suitable outfit."
"Yes, and I am going to have everything I want, if the farm is to be sold," said Miss Jane, in a voice that no one dared to gainsay.
"But come, let me tell you, Tildy, about the new beau I have for you," said Miss Bradly.
Instantly Miss Tildy's eyes began to glisten. The word "beau" was the ready "sesame" to her good humor.
"Oh, now, dear, good Miss Emily, tell me something about him. Who is he? where from?" &c.