Angels were waiting at the throne of the Eternal, for his command to bear her purified spirit home.
* * * * * The master and the slave were alone.

No eye save their Maker's looked upon them; no ear save his, heard what passed between them.
Mr.Weston was seated in the easy chair, which had been removed from the other room, and in which his wife had died.
Phillis was extended on a bed of death.

Her thin hands crossed on her bosom, her eyes fearfully bright, a hectic glow upon her cheek.
"Master," she said, "you have no occasion to feel uneasy about that.

I have never had a want, I nor the children.

There was a time, sir, when I was restless about being a slave.