Franconia has expended her skill
in completing the fair girl's toilet, when Mrs. Rosebrook places a
pair of green spectacles over her eyes, bids her look in the glass,
and tells her she will pass for a planter's son among a million.
"Nobody will know me, now," she answers, viewing herself in the
mirror. Her neat setting suit, Panama hat, and green spectacles,
give a peculiar air to her lithe figure. And though her emotions are
well nigh ready to give forth tears, she cannot suppress a smile at
the singular transformation of her person.
"It'll take sharper eyes than policemen's to discover the disguise,"
says Rosebrook, who, having ordered a carriage to the door, enters
the room and takes her kindly by the hand. "Keep up a good heart;
don't despond, my child, and the chances are that you'll be
safe-you'll be in Wilmington to-morrow morning" he continues: then,
turning to Franconia, who will accompany her to that place, he
awaits her pleasure. "I am ready!" returns that generous woman, as,
arrayed in her travelling dress, she takes Annette by the hand, and
is about to proceed to the gate where the carriage waits. Mrs.
Rosebrook must take one more fond parting. Laying her right arm over
her shoulder, and pressing her to her bosom, she kisses and kisses
her fair cheek, bids her remember that God alone is her protector,
her guide to a happy future. In freedom may she live to freedom's
God; in slavery, hope ever, and trust in his mercy! With this
admonition, the excited girl, trembling, leaves the Villa, leaning
on Franconia's arm.
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