With this understanding, the old woman retraced her steps to her
own dwelling.
Had Mrs. Miller been of a different character and not surrounded by
slavery, she could scarcely have been unhappy in such a home as
hers. Just at the edge of the city, and sheltered by large
poplar-trees was the old homestead in which she resided. There was
a splendid orchard in the rear of the house, and the old
weather-beaten sweep, with "the moss-covered bucket" at its end,
swung majestically over the deep well. The garden was scarcely to
be equalled. Its grounds were laid out in excellent taste, and
rare exotics in the greenhouse made it still more lovely.
It was a sweet autumn evening, when the air breathed through the
fragrant sheaves of grain, and the setting sun, with his golden
kisses, burnished the rich clusters of purple grapes, that Henry
and Gertrude were seen approaching the house on foot; it was
nothing more than a pleasant walk. Oh, how Gertrude's heart beat
as she seated herself, on their arrival!
The beautiful parlor, surrounded on all sides with luxury and
taste, with the sun creeping through the damask curtains, added a
charm to the scene. It was in this room that Gertrude had been
introduced to Henry, and the pleasant hours that she had spent
there with him rushed unbidden on her memory. It was here that, in
former days, her beautiful countenance had made her appearance as
fascinating and as lovely as that of Cleopatra's. Her sweet,
musical voice might have been heard in every part of the house,
occasionally thrilling you with an unexpected touch.
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