CHAPTER XIV.
TOPSY One morning, while Miss Ophelia was busy, as usual, she heard Mr.St.
Clare calling her from the foot of the stairs.
'Come down here, cousin.

I have something to show you.' 'What is it ?' said Miss Ophelia, coming down with her sewing in her hand.
'I have bought something for you.

See here,' he said, pulling forward a little negro girl of about eight or nine years old.
She was quite black.

Her round, shining eyes glittered like glass beads.
Her wooly hair was plaited into little tails which stuck out in all directions.

Her clothes were dirty and ragged.