like to go to our rooms, Diana," replied the lady. "I suppose they are all ready for us."

"All ready, missus."

"Of course you can take your choice of the rooms, Mrs. Lyon," interposed Levi, who had come into the house as soon as he had sent the people to their cottages. "There are eight rooms on the second floor, besides two company chambers; and I suppose Diana has already picked out one for the owner and his wife."

"You can take just what room you like, missus, but I picked out the colonel's chamber for mars'r and missus, 'cause it is the biggest, has a dressing-room and four great closets. I think that one suit missus best," added Diana.

"We will all go up-stairs and look at the rooms," replied Mrs. Lyon.

She concluded to take the colonel's room, to which Noah assented; and it was a palatial apartment to both of them. The girls were next provided with rooms, and the two octoroons were unremitting in their attentions to them. Though they knew that these girls were slaves, they treated them like sisters, and before the day was over they were fast friends; for both of them were utterly devoid of any Southern prejudices against those who were so nearly of their own color. They were disposed to treat all the servants kindly, but they had not the same feeling towards those of ebony hue.

The same sentiment prevailed through the family; and as a rule it pervaded most of the enlightened families of the South. The girls as well as the mother—and Dorcas and Artie looked upon and called Mrs. Lyon by this endearing name—had been accustomed to wait upon themselves, and they found it rather difficult to economize the willing hands of Sylvie and Julie. But when Pink arrived with the trunks and other baggage, the field-hands "toted" them to the proper chambers, and the aid of the servants was very welcome, for both of them were tired after the long journey they had made.

As the great clock in the spacious hall below struck six, the family were summoned to supper. Levi acted as master of ceremonies, for Diana was busy in the kitchen, with her two assistants; but he seemed to have some doubts about seating himself at his employer's table, though he had always had a place there in the colonel's time.

"Sit here, if you please, Levi, and always consider yourself as one of the family," said Noah, after he had asked Deck to take the second seat on the right, giving the manager the first, which is the seat of honor; and the question of Levi's position at Riverlawn was settled once for all.

"Thank you, Major Lyon," replied he, as he took the place assigned to him. "I always sat at the table with Colonel Lyon, even when he had guests; but it isn't always the rule with planters to have the overseer at his table, and I am much obliged to you for your consideration."

"When I had two or three hired men on my farm, they always came to the table with me, and would have thought they were abused if they had been placed at a separate board," laughed the embryo planter. "But they were the 'mud-sills' of the North, you know."

"I was raised in Tennessee, Major, and was tolerably well educated. I was in business for myself in Shelbyville, the capital of our county, which was named for one of my ancestors. But I did not succeed, for the place was not big enough. I bought some nice horses of Colonel Lyon, and for some reason he took a fancy to me."

"I don't think that was very strange," added Noah.

"When I failed, he wanted me to come and manage this place for him; and I have been here ever since. He paid me well, and I have always done the best I could for him. He was a good man; and it looks to me just as though his successor was as good a man as he was."

"Thank you, Levi; I believe we shall be friends."

"Betwixt you and me, Major," continued the manager in a low tone, "when the colonel's health began to be rather shaky, though I had no idea he was so near his end, I had a mortal dread that a certain other man would come into possession of this place. Excuse me for saying that, but I couldn't help it. Since I met you this noon, Major, I have been lifted up to the seventh heaven."

Noah did not deem it wise to make any reply to this remark then; but he intended to inquire more particularly in regard to his Kentucky brother when he had an opportunity; and it appeared that the manager had some very pronounced opinions in regard to Titus. He changed the subject, and continued to eat his supper.

The meal was elaborate enough for a family feast. After the fried ham and bacon, the fried chicken, with baked potatoes and the nicest white cornbread the family had ever eaten, came hot biscuits, waffles, and griddle-cakes, and cake of several kinds, which were fully approved by Mrs. Lyon. Diana came in before the party rose from the table, and the praises bestowed upon her handiwork in the kitchen would have made her blush if she had been as light-colored as the two girls that waited upon the table.

When Noah Lyon went to his room after supper, and was alone there, he took from his pocket the letter from his deceased brother which Colonel Cosgrove had given him. It was with no little emotion that he broke the cumbrous seals. It looked very much like a mystery to him, for the estate had been duly divided in the will.

It was a very kindly and brotherly letter for the first page. Then the colonel stated that Noah had by the time he received the letter discovered that the value of the fifty-one negroes on the estate had not been included in his valuation of the property. They were worth at least twenty-five thousand dollars. They had been given to him with the plantation, but he enjoined it upon him on no account to sell one of them.

In the letter he found another as carefully sealed as the one that enclosed it, directed to his successor, with the direction: "Not to be opened till five years from the date of my death. Duncan Lyon."

The letter evidently related to the slaves on the plantation; but the mystery in regard to them was still unsolved.