Dianthe listened to the old story of sowing the wind and reaping the whirlwind. A horrible, paralyzing dread was upon her. Was she never to cease from suffering and be at rest? Rocking herself to and fro, and moaning as though in physical pain, the old woman told her story.
“I was born on de Livingston place, an’ bein’ a purty likely gal, was taken to de big house when I was a tot. I was trained by ol’ Miss’. As soon as I was growed up, my mistress changed in her treatment of me, for she soon knowed of my relations with massa, an’ she was hurt to de heart, po’ ’ooman. Mira was de onlies’ child of ten that my massa lef’ me for my comfort; all de res’ were sold away to raise de mor’gage off de prop’rty.
“Ol’ marse had only one chil’, a son; he was eddicated for a doctor, and of all the limb o’ de devil, he was de worst. After ol’ marse an’ ol’ miss’ was dead he took a shine to Mira, and for years he stuck to her in great shape. Her fust child was Reuel——”
“What!” shrieked Dianthe. “Tell me—quick, for God’s sake! Is he alive, and by what name is he known?” She was deathly white, and spread out her hands as if seeking support.
“Yes, he’s living, or was a year ago. He’s called Dr. Reuel Briggs, an’ many a dollar he has sent his ol’ granny, may the good Marster bless him!”
“Tell me all—tell me the rest,” came from the lips of the trembling girl.
“Her second child was a girl,—a beautiful, delicate child, an’ de Doctor fairly worshipped her. Dat leetle gal was yourself, an’ I’m your granny.”
“Then Reuel Briggs is my brother!”
“Certain; but let me tell you de res’, honey. Dese things jes’ got to happen in slavery, but I isn’t gwine to wink at de debbil’s wurk wif both eyes open. An’ I doesn’t want you to keep on livin’ with Marse Aubrey Livingston. It’s too wicked; it’s flyin’ in de face ob Almighty God. I’se wanted to tell you eber sense I knowed who he’d married. After a while de Doctor got to thinkin’ ’bout keepin’ up de family name, an’ de fus’ thing we knows he up an’ marries a white lady down to Charleston, an’ brings her home. Well! when she found out all de family secrets she made de house too hot to hol’ Mira, and it was ordered that she mus’ be sold away. I got on my knees to Marse an’ I prayed to him not to do it, but to give Mira a house on de place where she could be alone an’ bring up de childrun, an’ he would a done it but for his wife.”
The old woman paused to moan and rock and weep over the sad memories of the past. Dianthe sat like a stone woman.