Dick's face had gone white, and the
Majors hand had stolen to the younger man's shoulder as if to steady
him.
There was a startled incredulity in the Major's face as he said: "Brace
up, old man! You didn't know, neither did I."
"Ruth," Dick asked unsteadily, "is that the old colored man
whose--whose master--"
"Yes!" cried the girl, the sharp pain of premonition in her voice.
"Oh, Dick, who is he?"
Dick's miserable eyes sought hers as he answered, "It's--it's Dad's
Uncle Noah. Ruth, I--" He turned and sought the hall.
Ruth's face flamed at his words. Uncle Noah's pathetic story came
crowding over her again in the light of Dick's revelation. His father
and mother! The stern old Colonel, of whom Dick always spoke with such
respectful loyalty in spite of their quarrel, and the dear mother,
whose tender eyes gazing from the old-fashioned daguerreotype Dick
always carried had made her choke with sudden tears--these two were
Uncle Noah's beloved "ol' Massa an' ol' Mis'"!
She turned; the Major had followed Dick to the hallway.
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