"If you will promise me never to speak to the strange gentleman again, little missie, I will not tell ole massa."
Golden opened wide her blue eyes. She looked very lovely as she leaned back among the snowy, ruffled pillows, her golden hair straying loosely about her shoulders, her cheeks tinted with a deep, warm blush, her little hands nervously clasping and unclasping each other.
"Black mammy, I think you are very cross to-night," she pouted. "Why should I never speak to the handsome gentleman again?"
"Because it's best for you. Ole brack mammy knows better dan you, chile."
"But I liked him so much," said Golden, blushing rosy red.
"You had no business to like him," responded Dinah. "He's to marry Miss Elinor."
"I do not believe it," said Golden, quickly.
"He's not for you, anyway," retorted Dinah. "You'll nebber marry no one, my dear."
"Why not?" asked the child. "Will nobody ever love me?"
"Nobody'll ever love ye like your grandpa, honey, and 'taint likely dat ever he will give ye away to anyone."