Daph had been smitten by a blow too sudden and violent, to rally immediately from its effects. Her strength and energy seemed forever gone. The hope which had upheld her had been stricken from her, and she knew not where to go for comfort.

“De great Lord has gib poor Daph up!” she said, disconsolately; and, prostrate in mind and body, she lay on her low bed, her eyes shut, and her soul all dark within.

[Pg 130]It was now that Mary Ray had an opportunity of showing her deep gratitude, for the unwearied kindness of her humble friend. She assumed the care of the children, and tried to keep them happy out of Daph’s sight, and thoughtfully volunteered to go round herself to Daph’s customers, to tell them that sickness had prevented her from preparing her usual supply.

All that Mary offered, Daph quietly accepted, almost without opening her eyes.

Daph seemed to have no wants, and it was in vain that Mrs. Ray came in and out, and bustled about putting the room in order, opening and closing the shutters, and making herself very busy,[Pg 131] to no possible advantage; Daph did not notice her; her thoughts were far, far away.

In one of these visits, Mrs. Ray chanced to find the gold chain the captain had laid on the mantel-piece. This added fuel to her suspicions, and she felt justified in secreting it, and showing it to Dr. Bates, as a further proof of the mystery clinging to Daph.

Mrs. Ray’s mind was in a most agitated state. Sometimes she was haunted with vague notions of some most awful crime committed by Daph, and then again the kind, truthful face of the negro would rise up before her, and change her suspicions into shame and self-reproach.

[Pg 132]At such times, she could not help feeling, that only virtue and honesty could be at home in a heart capable of such generous forgiveness, and patient return of good for evil, as she had received from the now sorrow-stricken negro. These moments of relenting, to soon alas! were gone.

Daph was lying sad and alone in the silent room, a few days after the visit of Captain Jones, when she heard a low tap at the door, followed by Mrs. Ray’s loud voice, saying, “Walk right in, Miss. She aint much sick, to my notion, but she don’t take no notice of anybody.”

Daph did notice the stranger who entered, and she even smiled sorrowfully[Pg 133] as she looked up into the face of Rose Stuyvesant.

“We missed your nice cakes on the table, Daph,” said a soft voice, “and when I heard you were sick, I determined to come and see you myself.”

These words of kindness from a refined and gentle woman, melted the heart of the suffering negro. She burst into tears as she exclaimed, “O, my sweet young lady! You speaks to poor Daph like her own dear missus used to!”

Rose Stuyvesant sat down beside the low bed that Mary had spread for Daph on the floor. “Are you very sick, Daph?” she asked, tenderly.

“Daph is all dead here, and all dizzy[Pg 134] here,” said the poor creature, laying her hand first on her heart, and then on her head. “De great Lord has sent Daph a big trouble, and den gib her right up;” and the tears again flowed fast.

Rose bent over the unhappy negro, and said, gently, “The great Lord loves you too well, Daph, to give you up in your trouble. Perhaps he has sent me to comfort you!”

Daph looked up with a gleam of hope in her eye, and murmured, “No reason why Daph should n’t jus tell all de truth now. Perhaps, if de sweet young lady knows all, she may comfort Daph up.”

“The Lord Jesus can comfort us in[Pg 135] any trouble,” said Rose, softly. “What makes you so unhappy? Cannot you tell me?”

Daph looked long into the sweet face turned lovingly towards her, and then said, “De great Lord has sent a-most an angel to poor Daph, and she shall hear it all.”

The secret that had so long burdened the lonely negro, was now poured out with all the unconscious eloquence of a true, warm, single-heart. The tears flowed fast down the cheeks of Rose Stuyvesant, as she heard the simple story of devoted, heroic affection, and long, patient self-sacrifice.

She understood the hope that had cheered Daph through years of labor[Pg 136] and anxiety,—the hope of placing the children of her mistress again on the bosom that had nursed them, and of seeing the happy father again embrace his long lost ones. That hope was now forever gone, and Rose Stuyvesant mingled her tears with those of poor Daph, as she concluded her story.

Those real tears made Daph feel that she had found a true friend, who sympathised with her in her distress, and this in itself was a whisper of comfort.

As soon as Rose could command herself, she said, as she took the black hand in her own, “Daph, the mother who loved to teach her little ones of Jesus, has gone to be with Him. Your master, too, is now with the Heavenly[Pg 137] King. You will still be able to give them back their children, in that better land, where there is no parting, where no sorrow ever comes.”

The negro looked earnestly in the face of the speaker, as she went on; “You must teach the little ones to love the Lord Jesus, and lead them to his home in heaven. Daph, you have ............