She was about to descend, when she
recognized Henry.
Emily related to him the circumstances of her father's death, and of the
reading of the will.
"Impossible!" exclaimed Henry, in astonishment.
"It is strange; but I cannot see any reason to disbelieve it, except
that my father's character assures me it is not so."
"Which would be a very good reason for disbelieving it. And you are now
on your way to Cincinnati?"
"I am; and it is the most melancholy journey I ever attempted. But I
ought to be thankful for all that comes,--if I am a slave, for the
freedom that awaits me."
"Good Heavens! Emily, do not talk so! You freeze the blood in my veins!"
"Nay, I feel somewhat reconciled to the terrible reality now, for it
little matters what I really am, since the will--true or false--condemns
me to the odium of having been a slave. You will not wish now to own
your sister!" said Emily, with a sad smile.
"Yes, were you ten times a slave, it would not obliterate the mark of
the omniscient God! It could not alter the beauty of the features or the
character.
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