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"Massa Robert Waite, he live right 'roun' de corner," said Estralla, and the two girls turned down the street leading to the house of Estralla's master. Sylvia went up the flight of stone steps which led to Mr. Waite's door a little fearfully. A tall, good-natured colored man opened the door and asked her errand, and then led the way across the wide hall and rapped at a door.
There were only two documents tied with red tape, and with big red seals on them, and a number of printed and signed papers. "Oh, clear! It isn't anything at all except letters," exclaimed Sylvia, nearly ready to cry with disappointment. And, suddenly, she did cry a cry so like Estralla's wail that the little darky just entering the room stopped short, and nearly dropped the pitcher of hot water.
Back and forth sounded the voices of the two girls, each one moving toward the other, for at the welcome sound of Estralla's call Sylvia had sprung up and hurried in the direction from which the voice seemed to come. It was now so nearly dusk that as they came in sight of each other they were like dark shadows. "Oh, Estralla! Where is my father?"
Carleton became more and more anxious for news of Captain Carleton, but she did not remind Sylvia of her promise. Grace and Sylvia were together a great deal, and every morning Sylvia would run out to the front porch to wave a good-bye to Grace on her way to school. Then there was Estralla's lesson hour, her own studies, and Mrs. Carleton was teaching her to crochet a silk purse as a gift to Mr.
Robert Waite's and have it all settled this morning," Sylvia replied, putting on her pretty new hat. "You may come, too," she added. "Yas, Missy. Wat yo' reckon Massa Robert gwine to say?" questioned Estralla earnestly. "I think I will take the money," Sylvia said, not answering Estralla's question; "then Mr. Waite will be sure that I can pay him." Mrs.
Then she put her hands up to her face and began to cry, very quietly. Estralla's laughter vanished. She wondered if her mammy was going to tell her that she could not keep the things. "'Scusie, Missy," muttered Aunt Connie; "you'se an angel to my po' little gal. An' I'se 'bliged to you. But I'se feared the chile won't wear 'em long. Massa Robert Waite's man sez he's gwine sell her off right soon."
Then, suddenly, she realized all Estralla's devotion.
"My, no!" answered Sylvia, and before she could explain the generosity of Estralla's owner, the little darky was wailing and sobbing: "I knowed I'd be sold! I knowed it." "Keep still, Estralla! Mr. Waite says I may have you without paying him. Just as long as I live in his house he said you were to be my maid! Oh, Estralla!
Slip off your dress." In a moment the old blue frock lay in a little heap on the floor, and Sylvia had slipped the pink dress over Estralla's head, and was fastening it. The little darky chuckled and laughed now as if she had not a trouble in the world. "Listen, Estralla! Here, pick up every bit of the pitcher and put the pieces on the chair. Nobody shall know that you broke it.
Waite wages for Estralla, so that he would not insist on selling her. Estralla's face had brightened instantly at Sylvia's promise. And when Sylvia explained that she had money of her very own, and even opened her writing desk and showed Estralla the shining gold pieces, the little darky's fears vanished.
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