"I came from Louisiana. Oh, I can't be mistaken. I have longed for you, and prayed for you, and now I have found you."

Just then, Carrie, who had finished speaking with her friend, seeing Minnie and the strange woman talking together, exclaimed, "What is the matter?"

Noticing the agitation of her friend, "Who is this woman, and what has she said to you?"

"She says that she is my mother, my long-lost mother."

"Why, Minnie, what nonsense! She can't be your mother. Why don't you see she is colored?"

"Where do you live?" said Minnie, without appearing to notice the words of Carrie.

"I don't live anywhere. I just came here yesterday with some of the Union soldiers."

"Come with me then, and I will show you a place to stop."

"Why, Minnie, you are not going to walk down the street with that Nig--colored woman; if you are, please excuse me. My business calls me another way."

And without any more ceremony Carrie and Minnie parted. Silently she walked by the side of the stranger, a thousand thoughts revolving in her mind. Was this the solution of the mystery which enshrouded her young life? Did she indeed belong to that doomed and hated race, and must she share the cruel treatment which bitter, relentless prejudice had a.s.signed them?

Thomas Carpenter and Anna were stopping in P., at the house of relatives who knew Minnie's history, but who had never made any difference in their treatment of her on that account.

"Is father and mother at home?" said Minnie to the servant, who opened the door. She answered in the affirmative.

"Tell them to come into the parlor, they are wanted immediately."

"Sit down," said Minnie to the stranger, handing her a chair, "and wait till father comes."

Anna and Thomas soon entered the room, and Minnie approaching them said, "Father, this woman met me on the street to-day, and says she is my mother. You know all about my history. Tell me if there is any truth in this story."

"I don't know, Minnie, I never saw thy mother."

"But question her, father, and see if there is any truth in what she says; but tell me first, father, am I white or colored?"

"Minnie, I believe there is a small portion of colored blood in thy veins."

"It is enough," said Minnie, drawing closer to the strange woman. "What makes you think that I am your child?"

"By this," said she, taking a miniature from her bosom. "By this, which I carried next to my heart for more than twelve years, and never have been without it a single day or night."

Thomas looked upon the miniature; it was an exact likeness of Minnie when she first came to them, and although she had grown and changed since the likeness was taken, there was too close a resemblance between it and one which had been taken soon after she came, for him to doubt that Minnie was the original of that likeness.

Thomas questioned the woman very closely, but her history and narrative corresponded so well with what he had heard of Minnie's mother, that he could not for a moment doubt that this was she, and as such he was willing to give her the shelter of his home, till he could make other arrangements.

"But why," said Anna, somewhat grieved at the shock, that Minnie had received, "did thee startle her by so suddenly claiming her in the street? Would it not have been better for thee to have waited and found out where she lived, and then discovered thyself to her?"

"I'spect it would, 'Mam," said Ellen, very meekly and sorrowfully, "but when I saw her and heard the young lady say, Minnie, wait a minute, I forgot everything but that this was my long-lost child. I am sorry if I did any harm, but I was so glad I could not help it. My heart was so hungry for my child."

"Yes, yes," said Anna sadly, "I understand thee; it was the voice of nature."

Minnie was too nervous and excited to return to her school that day; the next morning she had a very high fever, and Thomas concluded it would be better to take her home and have her mother accompany her.

And so on Monday morning Anna and Thomas left P., taking Minnie and her mother along.

Once again in her pleasant home, surrounded by the tenderest care (for her mother watched over her with the utmost solicitude) the violence of her fever abated, but it was succeeded by a low nervous affection which while it produced no pain yet it slowly unstrung her vitality.

Ellen hovered around her pillow as if she begrudged every moment that called her from her daughter's side, and never seemed so well contented as when she was performing for her some office of love and tenderness. A skilful nurse, she knew how to prepare the most delicate viands to tempt the failing appet.i.te, and she had the exquisite pleasure of seeing her care and attention rewarded by the returning health and strength of her child.

One morning as she grew stronger, and was able to sit in her chair, she turned her eyes tenderly towards Ellen and said, "Mother, come and sit near me and let me hold your hand."

"Mother," Oh how welcome was that word. Ellen's eyes filled with sudden tears.

"Mother," she said, "It comes back to me like a dream. I have a faint recollection of having seen you before, but it is so long I can scarcely remember it. Tell me all about myself and how I came to leave you. I always thought that there was some mystery about me, but I never knew what it was before, but now I understand it."

"Darling," said the mother, "you had better wait till you get a little stronger, and then I will tell you all."

"Very well," said Minnie, "you have been so good to me and I am beginning to love you so much."

It was touching to see the ripening love between those two long-suffering ones. Ellen would comb Minnie's hair, and do for her every office in her power. Still Minnie continued feeble. The suffering occasioned by her refusal of Louis; the hard study and deep excitement through which she had pa.s.sed told sadly upon her const.i.tution; but she was young, and having a large share of recuperative power she slowly came back to health and strength, and when the spring opened Thomas decided that she should return again to her school in P.

Chapter XII

Let us now return to Carrie Wise, whom we left parting with Minnie.

"Where is Minnie?" said two of her schoolmates, who observed that Carrie had come home alone.

"Oh," said she, "one of the strangest things I ever heard of happened!"

"Well, what was it?" said the girls; and by this time they had joined another group of girls.

"Why this morning, Minnie and I walked out shopping, and just as I came out of Carruthers' I met an old friend of mother's, and stopped to speak with her, and I said 'Minnie, just wait a minute.'"

"She pa.s.sed on, and left me talking with Mrs. Jackson. When I joined her, I found a colored woman talking to her, and she was trembling from head to foot, and just as pale as a ghost; and I said, 'Why, Minnie, what is the matter?'"

"She gasped for breath, and I thought she was going to faint, and I got real scared. And what do you think Minnie said?"

"Why," she said, "Carrie, this woman says she's my mother!"

"Her mother!" cried a half dozen voices. "Why you said she was colored!"

"Well, so she was. She was quite light, but I knew she was colored."

"How did you know? Maybe she was only a very dark-complexioned white woman."

"Oh no, she wasn't, I know white people from colored, I've seen enough of them."