It was between four and five o'clock in the afternoon, when I called again at the Allen House.

An old colored servant, who had been in the family ever since my remembrance--she went by the name of "Aunty"-- was standing by the gate as I alighted from my chaise.
"'Deed, massa, Ise glad you come," said she in a troubled way.
"Why so, Aunty?
No body very sick, I hope." "'Deed, an dar is den; else old Aunty don't know nothin'." "Who ?" "Why dat blessed young lady what drapped in among us, as if she'd come right down from Heaven.

I was jest a gwine to run down an' ax you to come and see her right away." I did not linger to talk with "Aunty," but went forward to the house.
The mother of Blanche met me at the door.

She looked very anxious.
"How is your daughter now ?" I asked.
"Not so well as when you saw her this morning," she answered.

Her voice trembled.
"I would have called earlier, but have been visiting a patient several miles away." "She has been lying in a kind of stupor ever since you were here.