"Oh, ma'am," she cried, between her panting sobs, "I can't stay there!
I shall die!"
"What means this, madam?" said Mrs. Aylward, stiffly, making the word
sound much like "foolish child."
"The--the music!" she managed faintly to utter, falling again into the
friendly chair.
"The music?" said Mrs. Aylward, considering; then with a shade of
polite contempt, "O! Jumbo's fiddle! I did not know it could be
heard in your room, but no doubt the windows below are open."
"Is Jumbo that black man?" asked Aurelia, shuddering; for negro
servants, though the fashion in town, had not penetrated into
the west.
"Mr. Belamour's blackamoor. He often plays to him half the night."
"Oh!" with another quivering sound of alarm; "is Mr. Belamour the
gentleman in the dark?"
"Even so, madam, but you need have no fears. He keeps his room and
admits no one, though he sometimes walks out by night. You will only
have to keep the children from a noise making near his apartments.
Good night, madam."
"Oh, pray, if I do not disturb you, would you be pleased to let me stay
till you have finished your chapter; I might not be so frightened then."
In common humanity Mrs. Aylward could not refuse, and Aurelia sat
silently grasping the arms of her chair, and trying to derive all
the comfort she could from the presence of a Bible and a good woman.
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