 | II. Alice May |  |
2. II.
It was the evening of the 22d of February. It was to be celebrated
by one of the most magnificent assemblies that had ever been in the gay
capital of Louisiana. In a planters' villa a few miles from the city was
one fair inmate preparing for the brilliant scene. It was Alice May.
Four months had elapsed since she had left Edward, and her love burned
clear and pure and steady. He was her idol—her heart of hearts!
She wrote to him oftener than he had stipulated, and was thinking of
him daily, hourly. Her life was wrapped up in his, and she knew from
his letters that he loved her with the same unwavering devotion.
She had been much courted, caressed and flattered since her return
home. In every place she was the star of all eyes. But her love for
Edward Orr was the polar star of all her regard, and the compliments,
the flattery and homage she received, made no impression upon her.—
If she had her own will she would have withdrawn from society; for
she cared for no pleasure that he did not share with her. But her father,
proud of her extraordinary beauty, and flattered by the attention
paid her, carried her, to every public place of amusement, with which
the city was then rife. On the present occasion she had entreated to
remain at home, as she had felt all day unusually depressed. But he
had a motive in urging her compliance with his wishes, and she consented
to prepare and accompany him to town in the carriage,
She was seated at her window which looked out upon a spacious
lawn, ornamented with noble elms and sycamores. with a glimpse
of the river beyond. The moon was filling her shield with light as the
twilight deepened, and shone broadly down between the light trellised
columns of the piazza. A mocking bird near by was making the air
musical with a hundred stolen songs, and at intervals from the quartier
of the slaves, came the low chaunt of some Africen air.
Behind Alice was kneeling a young female slave braiding her long,
raven hair; for she had for some months ceased to let it have its freedom.
Reclining on a couch beside her, lay a still beautiful quadroone
about thirty eight years of age. She was an invalid, and her large
black eyes seemed to beam with unearthly beauty. Her hand was thin
and transparent, and a deep rose seemed opening beneath the olive delicacy
of her cheek. She was consumptive, and lay there like a child
unconscious of her danger, and as interested in the trifles about her,
as if Death had not lifted his finger and beckoned her away. Her
with her beauty, while she was yet a child, Colonel May had purchased
her for his wife's attendant. The lady educated her, and made her rather
a friend and companion than a slave. When the handsome Desiree had
reached her twentieth year her mistress died, since which period she
had been a housekeeper and overseer of the other female domestics.—
To her Alice was greatly attached, and the affection of the quadroone
for her young mistress was like that of a mother towards her own child.
`Ah, Miss Alice, your hair is already as long as mine,' she said,
after admiring for some time the raven tresses of the maiden; `and I
have been said to have the most beautiful hair in Louisiana.'
`Was my mother's hair like mine, Desiree?'
`Mistress' hair was fair brown,' answered the slave, with a hesitation
in her manner, and looking as if she would have avoided replying to
the question.
`I wish I could have seen to recollect my mother. She died, alas,
when I was born! Motherless I have been from my birth, and oh, how
have I sighed to lean on a dear mother's bosom.'
The quadroone sighed; then her eyes suddenly sparkled with animation;
she half rose from the couch, and with parted lips eagerly bent
towards her young mistress as if she would speak! but the words died
in her heart as she sank back upon her couch and hid her face in her
hands.
During the remainder of the toilet she remained silent; and at length
Alice, being richly yet tastefully dressed, drove off with her father.
| II. Alice May | |