"It's like old times, isn't it, Mammy? Just exactly like it used to be—you there beside me when I went to sleep. Oh, Mammy, I'm so happy! I want to cry just a little like I used to, and you hold my hand and pat it and sing to me,—very soft and low, ah! now!"
And with the light gently fading from behind the bowed blinds, and the room sinking into darkness, the old slave chanted softly, with the tears streaming down her furrowed cheeks:
"Whar, oh, whar am de Hebrew chillun,
Whar, oh, whar am de Hebrew chillun,
Whar, oh, whar am de Hebrew chillun,
Way ober in de promis' lan'."
CHAPTER VII
THE HOUR OF THE WEDDING
Evening closed about the old home; the candles in the garden began to glimmer and throw a fairylike glow through the shrubbery; the two great bonfires on each side of the gate were lighted and illumined the road for near a mile. Carriages began rolling up to the front door and discharging their elaborately costumed occupants. The sound of laughter and merry voices floated up in waves, and in the distance came the wail of fiddles being tuned.
Suddenly a rap sounded on the door; the sanctuary of the two reunited women was broken.
"Natalia! Natalia! All the guests are arriving," Millicent called in an excited voice. "Have you begun to dress? Do let me in! It's scandalous for them to be so late!"
Natalia sprang from the bed and hurried to the door.
"Is it really late?" she exclaimed, as Millicent burst into the room. "I hadn't an idea time was flying so. Mammy and I had gone back years and years, and forgotten everything. Is Morgan ready?"