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CHAPTER VI.
MEMORIES AND MELODIES.
"My trunk ! my trunk! My darling little
blue trunk!"
"Massa Joe says for you to go right straight back to the library, missy. He says you done get the pneumony, cuttin' up that way in the snow, and you not raised in it. He says not to let that boy in here. I—I's sorry to dis-*oblige any little lady what's a-visitin' of us, but"—
"It's my trunk, Peter. Don't you hear?"
"Yes, missy. But Lafayette, that's his business, hauling luggage. I'se the butler, I is."
Josephine retreated a few paces from the door. She had lived in the open air, but had never felt it pinch her nose as this did. Her feet, also, were cold, and growing wet from the
