"Then I suppose nothing can be done. Good morning," said Mr. Jennings.
"Good morning, sir; I am sorry we can't trade."
Mr. Jennings went home, and acquainted his wife with the result of his mission. She was a kind mistress to her slaves, and had seen but little of the horrors of slavery. To be sure, she had heard of instances of cruelty, but they had made but little impression on her, and had soon been forgotten. But here was a case which outraged every womanly feeling in her breast, a case of suffering and wrong, occurring to persons in whom she was personally interested, and she was aroused to the wickedness of the system which allowed such oppression.
In the evening Hasty came up to see if anything had been done for her relief. As she entered the room, the sorrowful expression of Mrs. Jennings's face brought tears into her eyes, for she felt there was no hope.
"O poor Hasty!" said Mrs. Jennings.
"Don't say no more, missus, I see what's comin'. Poor Mark will go down
South. Seems to me I knowed it would be so from de fust. O dear! it'll
go nigh breaking me down. Tears like I can't stand it no how," said
Hasty, sobbing aloud.
Mrs. Jennings waited till the first burst of bitter grief was over, and then tried to comfort her as well as she was able, but she felt how hard it was to assuage such grief as this. She spoke to her of the hope of seeing her husband again in this world, and of the certainty at least, if both tried to do the will of God, of meeting in heaven. But her efforts were unavailing, and her consoling words fell on a heart that would not be comforted.
CHAPTER III.
When Mrs. Jennings awoke the next morning, her first thoughts were of Hasty, and she determined that the day should not pass over without her making another effort for Mark. Accordingly, after breakfast she ordered the carriage, intending to make a visit to Mr. Nelson's.
"Where are you going, Maggie?" inquired Mr. Jennings of his wife, as he heard her give the order.