"Have you seen your sister lately ?" she asked.
"No, Aunt Ada," he answered, hesitatingly, whilst a look of annoyance darkened his face for a moment; "I have not been to visit her since last fall--almost a year." "Oh! Clarence, how can you remain so long away ?" said she, reproachfully.
"Well, I can't go there with any comfort or pleasure," he answered, apologetically; "I can't go there; each year as I visit the place, their ways seem more strange and irksome to me.

Whilst enjoying her company, I must of course come in familiar contact with those by whom she is surrounded.

Sustaining the position that I do--passing as I am for a white man--I am obliged to be very circumspect, and have often been compelled to give her pain by avoiding many of her dearest friends when I have encountered them in public places, because of their complexion.

I feel mean and cowardly whilst I'm doing it; but it is necessary--I can't be white and coloured at the same time; the two don't mingle, and I must consequently be one or the other.

My education, habits, and ideas, all unfit me for associating with the latter; and I live in constant dread that something may occur to bring me out with the former.