“Not being a mind-reader, I wouldn’t dare to say,” replied John Langley, with a grin of delight.
“They was a-trampin’ onto the feet of every white man an’ woman in thet car to show the white folks how free they was! I jes’ took my ambriller an’ knocked it into two or three o’ them thet I knowed, an’ tol’ ’em I’d tell ther mothers. Improvin’ in ther manners! I should think they was!”
At this moment refreshments were served, and the attention of the company was turned to the wants of the inner man.
Dora had placed a pretty little tea table at one side of the room, and Sappho had promised to pour the tea and chocolate. At a sign from Mrs. Smith she took her place, and soon the steaming beverage was cheering the hearts of the guests. The young men vied with each other in serving her. The tea table became the center of attraction, in fact, for the whole room. Even the divinity student was drawn into the magic circle, and divided his attention between Sappho and Mrs. Ophelia Davis, for whom he seemed to have a very tender regard.
The girl was naturally buoyant and bright, and the influence of the pleasant company in which she found herself seemed to inspire her, and yet no man would have overstepped the bounds of propriety with her in his manner. The pleasant word and jest were free from all coquetry. John was dumb before so much beauty and wit. Will was so blinded by her charms that he was scarcely conscious of what he was doing; but not a word or movement of hers was lost to him.
Dora watched the tea table smilingly. She loved to see her friends enjoy themselves. It never occurred to her to be jealous of the attention given Sappho by her brother and John Langley.
Presently there were many pleasant compliments passed on the enjoyable evening which had so quickly flown, and each gentleman proposed a toast, which was drunk in a cup of hot chocolate; and as the clock struck ten, they all joined hands and united in singing “Auld Lang Syne” and “Praise God, from Whom All Blessings Flow.” The evening was over; the lights were out; but up in John’s attic chamber the two young men smoked a social cigar before separating for the night.
They were silent for some time, and then Will said: “Miss Clark is a very beautiful woman; don’t you think so, John?”
“Well,” replied John, “beauty is not the word to describe her. She’s a stunner, and no mistake.”
John went to bed; but Will sat by the fire a longer time than usual, thinking thoughts which had never before troubled his young manhood; and, unconsciously, one face—the face of Sappho Clark—formed the background of his thoughts.
VII
Friendship
What is so great as friendship? The only reward of virtue is virtue: the only way to have a friend is to be one.
Emerson
After that evening the two girls were much together. Sappho’s beauty appealed strongly to Dora’s artistic nature; but hidden beneath the classic outlines of the face, the graceful symmetry of the form, and the dainty coloring of the skin, Dora’s shrewd common sense and womanly intuition discovered a character of sterling worth—bold, strong and ennobling; while into Sappho’s lonely self-suppressed life the energetic little Yankee girl swept like a healthful, strengthening breeze. Care was forgotten; there was new joy in living. It was the Southern girl’s first experience of Northern life. True, the seductive skies of her nativity had a potent hold upon her affections, but truth demanded her to recognize the superiority of the vigorous activity in the life all about her. The Negro, while held in contempt by many, yet reflected the spirit of his surroundings in his upright carriage, his fearlessness in advancing his opinions, his self-reliance, his anxiety to obtain paying employment that would give to his family some few of the advantages enjoyed by the more favored classes of citizens, his love of liberty, which in its intensity recalled the memory of New England men who had counted all worldly gain as nothing if demanding the sacrifice of even one of the great principles of freedom. It was a new view of the possibilities and probabilities which the future might open to her people. Long she struggled with thoughts which represented to her but vaguely a life beyond anything of which she had ever dreamed.
Sappho generally carried her work home in the morning, but ten o’clock would find her seated at her desk and ready to begin her task anew. Some days she was unoccupied; but this did not happen very frequently. These free days were the gala days of her existence, when under Dora’s guidance she explored various points of interest, and learned from observation the great plan of life as practiced in an intelligent, liberty-loving community. Here in the free air of New England’s freest city, Sappho drank great draughts of freedom’s subtle elixir. Dora was interested and amused in watching the changes on the mirror-like face of her friend whenever her attention was arrested by a new phenomenon. It was strange to see this girl, resembling nothing so much as a lily in its beautiful purity, shrink from entering a place of public resort
