Alice Wilde: The Raftsman's Daughter — page 59: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A LOVER’S PRESENTS. 55 a package—some presents for you, and some for Pallas, too, from Mr. Moore. He told me to tell you that he was safe and sound, and hoped you'd accept the things he sent.” | His eyes did not quail as he made this statement, though he knew that she was searching them keenly. Perhaps there was a letter in the bundle. She carried it to her own room and tore it open. No! not a single written word. The gifts for the old servant—silk aprons, gay-colored turbans, and a string of gold beads—were in one bundle. In another was a lady’s dressing-case, with brushes, perfumeries, and all those pretty trifles which grace the feminine toilet, a quantity of fine writing materials, paper-folder, gold-pen, some exquisite small engravings, and, in a tiny box, a ring set with a single pure pearl. That ring! was it indeed a betrothal ring, sent to her by her lover, which she should wear to kiss and pray over? or was it intended to help her into a bond with his murderer? Eagerly she scanned every bit of wrapping-paper to find some proof that it was Philip’s own hand which had made up the costly and tasteful gifts. She could find nothing to satisfy her. They might have been purchased with. his _ money, but not by him. The ring which she would have worn so joyfully had she been certain it had come from him, she put back in its case without even trying it on her finger. “O God!” she murmured, throwing herself upon her knees, “must I bear this suspense all this endless winter ?” Yes, all that endless winter the weight of suspense was not to be lifted—nor for yet more miserable months, December sat in extremely cold, and the winter throughout was one of unusual severity. As the Christmas holidays drew near, that time of feasting so precious to the colored people raised in “ ole Virginny,” Saturn bestirred himself a little out of his perpetual laziness. If he would give due assistance in beating eggs and grinding spices, chopping suet and picking fowls, as well as “keep his wife in kindling-wood,” Pallas promised him rich rewards in the way of dainties, and also to make him his favorite dish a—woodchuck pie. “°Clar’ to gracious, I don’t feel a bit of heart ’bout fixin’ up feastesses dis yere Chris’mas,” said she to him, one evening in the midst of the bustle of preparation. ‘“ We've allers been comiclbooks CO