The Wife of his Youth | Page 5

tokens tells me. I dremp three nights runnin' on'y dis las' week dat I
foun' him."
"He may have married another woman. Your slave marriage would not
have prevented him, for you never lived with him after the war, and
without that your marriage does n't count."
"Would n' make no diff'ence wid Sam. He would n' marry no yuther
'ooman 'tel he foun' out 'bout me. I knows it," she added. "Sump'n 's
be'n tellin' me all dese years dat I 's gwine fin' Sam 'fo' I dies."
"Perhaps he 's outgrown you, and climbed up in the world where he
would n't care to have you find him."
"No, indeed, suh," she replied, "Sam ain' dat kin' er man. He wuz good
ter me, Sam wuz, but he wuz n' much good ter nobody e'se, fer he wuz
one er de triflin'es' han's on de plantation. I 'spec's ter haf ter suppo't 'im
w'en I fin' 'im, fer he nebber would work 'less'n he had ter. But den he
wuz free, an' he did n' git no pay fer his work, an' I don' blame 'im
much. Mebbe he 's done better sence he run erway, but I ain' 'spectin'
much."
"You may have passed him on the street a hundred times during the
twenty-five years, and not have known him; time works great changes."
She smiled incredulously. "I 'd know 'im 'mongs' a hund'ed men. Fer
dey wuz n' no yuther merlatter man like my man Sam, an' I could n' be
mistook. I 's toted his picture roun' wid me twenty-five years."

"May I see it?" asked Mr. Ryder. "It might help me to remember
whether I have seen the original."
As she drew a small parcel from her bosom he saw that it was fastened
to a string that went around her neck. Removing several wrappers, she
brought to light an old-fashioned daguerreotype in a black case. He
looked long and intently at the portrait. It was faded with time, but the
features were still distinct, and it was easy to see what manner of man it
had represented.
He closed the case, and with a slow movement handed it back to her.
"I don't know of any man in town who goes by that name," he said,
"nor have I heard of any one making such inquiries. But if you will
leave me your address, I will give the matter some attention, and if I
find out anything I will let you know."
She gave him the number of a house in the neighborhood, and went
away, after thanking him warmly.
He wrote the address on the fly-leaf of the volume of Tennyson, and,
when she had gone, rose to his feet and stood looking after her
curiously. As she walked down the street with mincing step, he saw
several persons whom she passed turn and look back at her with a smile
of kindly amusement. When she had turned the corner, he went upstairs
to his bedroom, and stood for a long time before the mirror of his
dressing-case, gazing thoughtfully at the reflection of his own face.

III
At eight o'clock the ballroom was a blaze of light and the guests had
begun to assemble; for there was a literary programme and some
routine business of the society to be gone through with before the
dancing. A black servant in evening dress waited at the door and
directed the guests to the dressing-rooms.
The occasion was long memorable among the colored people of the city;

not alone for the dress and display, but for the high average of
intelligence and culture that distinguished the gathering as a whole.
There were a number of school-teachers, several young doctors, three
or four lawyers, some professional singers, an editor, a lieutenant in the
United States army spending his furlough in the city, and others in
various polite callings; these were colored, though most of them would
not have attracted even a casual glance because of any marked
difference from white people. Most of the ladies were in evening
costume, and dress coats and dancing pumps were the rule among the
men. A band of string music, stationed in an alcove behind a row of
palms, played popular airs while the guests were gathering.
The dancing began at half past nine. At eleven o'clock supper was
served. Mr. Ryder had left the ballroom some little time before the
intermission, but reappeared at the supper-table. The spread was worthy
of the occasion, and the guests did full justice to it. When the coffee
had been served, the toast-master, Mr. Solomon Sadler, rapped for
order. He made a brief introductory speech, complimenting host and
guests, and then presented in their order the toasts of the evening. They
were responded