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Show 244 UNCLE TOM'S CA.BIN : OR, said St. Clare. "You know 'tis n't so. There's }.fammy, the best creature living,- what could you do without her 1" " l\fammy is the best I ever knew," said :Marie; " and yet Mammy, now, is selfish - dreadfully selfish; it's the fimlt of the whole race. '' "Selfishness is a dreadful fault," said St. Clare, gravely. "'Veil, now, there 's ~famrny," said :Mario, "I think it's selfish of her to sleep so sound nights ; she knows I need little attentions almost every hour, when my worst turns are on, and yet she 's so hard to wake. I absolutely am worse, this very morning, for the efforts I had to make to wake her last night." "Hasn't she sat up with you a good many nights, lately, mamma?'' said Eva. "How should you know that 1" said Marie, sharply; "she's been complaining, I suppose." " She didn't complain; she only told me what bad nights you'd had,- so many in succession." "Why don't you let Jane or Rosa take her place, a night or two," said St. Clare, "and let her rest?'' ''How can you propose it? '' said l\1arie. '' St. Clare, you really arc inconsiderate. So nervous as I am, the least breath disturbs me; and a strange hand about me would drive me absolutely frantic. If Mammy felt the interest in me she ought to, she'd wake easier,- of course, she would. I've heard of people who had such devoted servants, but it never was my luck;" and Marie sighed. Miss Ophelia had listened to this conversation with an air of shrewd, observant gravity; and she still kept her lips tightly compressed, as if determined fully to ascertain her longitude and position, before she committed herself. "Now, Mammy has a sort of goodness," said ~iarie; LH'E AMONG TilE LOWLY. 245 1 ' she 's smooth ancl respectful, but she's selfish at heart. Now, she never will be done fidgeting and worrying about that husband of hers. You sec, when I was married and came to Jive here, of course, I bad to bring her with me, and her husband my father couldn't spare. lie was a blacksmith, and, of course, very necessary; and I U1ought and said, at the time, that Mammy and he had better give each other up, as it wasn't likely to be conycnient fOr them ever to live together again. I wish, now, I 'd insisted on it, and married 1\fammy to somebody else; but I was foolish and indulgent, and didn't want to insist. I told l\.iammy, at the time, that she mustn't ever expect to sec him more than once or twice in her life again, for the air of fltthcr's place doesn't agree with my health, and I can't go there; and I advised her to take up with somebody else; but no- she wouldn't. Mammy has a kind of obstinacy about her, in spots, that everybody don't sec as I do." " Has she cl1ildren? " said Miss Ophelia .. "Yes i she bas two." 11 I suppose she feels the separation from them?" "Well, of course, I couldn't bring them. They were little dirty things- I couldn't have them about ; and, besides, they took up too much of her time; but I believe that Mammy haa always kept up a sort of sulkiness about this. She won't marry anybody else; and I do believe, now, though she knows how necessary she is to me, and how feeble my health is, she would go back to her husband to-morrow, if she only could. I do, indeed," said Marie; "they are just so selfish, now, the best of them." "It ·s distressing to reflect upon," said St. Clare, dryly. Miss Ophelia looked keenly at him, and saw the flush of 21* |