A crowd of servants now pressed to the entry door, and among them a middle-aged mulatto woman, of very respectable appearance, stood foremost, in a tremor of expectation and joy, at the door.
"O, there's Mammy!" said Eva, as she flew across the room; and, throwing herself into her arms, she kissed her repeatedly.
This woman did not tell her that she made her head ache, but, on the contrary, she hugged her, and laughed, and cried, till her sanity was a thing to be doubted of; and when released from her, Eva flew from one to another, shaking hands and kissing, in a way that Miss Ophelia afterwards declared fairly turned her stomach.
"Well!" said Miss Ophelia, "you southern children can do something that _I_ couldn't." "What, now, pray ?" said St.Clare.
"Well, I want to be kind to everybody, and I wouldn't have anything hurt; but as to kissing--" "Niggers," said St.Clare, "that you're not up to,--hey ?" "Yes, that's it.

How can she ?" St.Clare laughed, as he went into the passage.

"Halloa, here, what's to pay out here?
Here, you all--Mammy, Jimmy, Polly, Sukey--glad to see Mas'r ?" he said, as he went shaking hands from one to another.

"Look out for the babies!" he added, as he stumbled over a sooty little urchin, who was crawling upon all fours.

"If I step upon anybody, let 'em mention it." There was an abundance of laughing and blessing Mas'r, as St.Clare distributed small pieces of change among them.
"Come, now, take yourselves off, like good boys and girls," he said; and the whole assemblage, dark and light, disappeared through a door into a large verandah, followed by Eva, who carried a large satchel, which she had been filling with apples, nuts, candy, ribbons, laces, and toys of every description, during her whole homeward journey.
As St.Clare turned to go back his eye fell upon Tom, who was standing uneasily, shifting from one foot to the other, while Adolph stood negligently leaning against the banisters, examining Tom through an opera-glass, with an air that would have done credit to any dandy living.
"Puh! you puppy," said his master, striking down the opera glass; "is that the way you treat your company?
Seems to me, Dolph," he added, laying his finger on the elegant figured satin vest that Adolph was sporting, "seems to me that's _my_ vest." "O! Master, this vest all stained with wine; of course, a gentleman in Master's standing never wears a vest like this.