those tender hands were to draw the covers close about me,--I should not
have closed my eyes in such content.




CHAPTER V

THE SECRET OF A HEART


Late that night I was awakened by the slamming of doors and hurried
footsteps in the hall and up and down the stairs. I sat up in bed, and as
I listened intently, heard frightened whispering without my door. It rose
and died away and rose again, broken by stifled sobbing, and I knew that
some great disaster had befallen. It seemed, somehow, natural that this
should happen, after my father's recent conduct. With a cold fear at my
heart, I threw the covers back, slid from the bed, and groped my way
across the room. As I fumbled at the latch, the whispering and sobbing
came suddenly to an end, as though those without had stopped with bated
breath. At last I got the door open, and looking out, saw half a dozen
negro servants grouped upon the landing. One of them held a lantern,
which threw slender rays of light across the floor and queer shadows up
against their faces. They stared at me an instant, and then, finding
their breath again, burst forth in lamentation.

"What is it?" I cried. "What has happened?"

My old mammy had her arms around me and caught me up to her face, down
which the tears were streaming.