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one of the twenty to follow my own showing.’ Nothing like division of labor. My forte lies in talking, and yours, cousin, lies in doing.” In Tom’s external situation, at this time there was, as the world says, nothing to complain of. Little Eva’s fancy for him-the instinctive gratitude and loveliness of a noble nature-had led her to petition her father that he might be her especial attendant, whenever she needed the escort of a servant, in her walks or rides; and Tom had general orders to let everything else go, and attend to Miss Eva when- ever she wanted him,- orders which our readers may fancy were far from disagree- able to him. He was kept well dressed, for St. Clare was fastidiously particular on this point. His stable services were merely a sinecure, and consisted simply in a daily care and inspection, and directing an under-servant in his duties; for Marie St. Clare declared that she could not have any smell of the horses about him when he came near her, and that he must positively not be put to any service that would make him unpleasant to her, as her nervous system was entirely inadequate to any trial of that nature; one snuff of anything disagreeable being, according to her ac- count, quite sufficient to close the scene, and put an end to all her earthly trials at once. Tom, therefore, in his well-brushed broadcloth suit, smooth beaver, glossy boots, faultless wristbands and collar, with his grave, good-natured black face, looked respectable enough to be a bishop of Carthage, as men of his color were, in other ages. |