He had a boyish expression of disappointment and irritation on his countenance, and had evidently been recently weeping.

There were several men, one or two of them with bad faces, and one, a light mulatto, had a fine open countenance, and appeared to be making an effort not to show his excessive disappointment.

In the corner sat the woman, on a low bench--her head was bent forward on her lap, and she was swaying her body slightly, keeping motion with her foot.
"What is the woman's name, Bacchus ?" asked Mr.Weston in a low tone.
"I axed her dis mornin, sir.

Its Sarah--Sarah Mills." Mr.Weston walked up nearer to her, and was regarding her, when she suddenly looked up into his face.

Finding herself observed, she made an effort to look unconcerned, but it did not succeed, for she burst into tears.
"I'm sorry to see you here, Sarah," said Mr.Weston, "you look too respectable to be in such a situation." Sarah smoothed down her apron, but did not reply.