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"Good-evening, aunty," replied Mrs. Hereford, having learned that much of Southern etiquette. "Won't you walk in and rest yourself?"

She crept painfully up the steps, and sat down in the rush-bottomed chair offered her. The little darky squatted on the steps, and fixed a pair of bright black beads on "de lady f'um de Norf," which he never removed.

"You will 'scuse me, lady, fur troublin' you so much as ter come here. But I hed to come—I hed to come. It seem like I couldn't die 'twell I hed done seed de ole place," she said, presently.

"You are quite welcome," replied Mrs. Hereford.

"You see," she said, glancing deprecatingly at Mrs. Hereford, while she smoothed down the clean but faded handkerchief on her breast, "I was de head 'oman in dis here house. I was ole mistis' maid, an' den I nuss dem two boys, an' Miss Amy, and arter dey was all gone I went, too. But I done hed de ager so bad, an' I feel so po'ly I don't never 'spect ter be able ter git here no mo'. So I come, jest ter tell ole marse an' all un 'em how things is lookin'. Kase I 'spects ter fin' 'em all when I gits to glory, an' ole marse he sho to say, 'Keziah, how's things gwine at Malvern?' Lord! when I got ter tell him de Yankees done bought de place an' livin' here!"