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‘Oh, Topsy! I love you,’ said Eva, laying her little, thin hand on Topsy’s shoulder. ‘I love you, because you haven’t had any mother, or father, or friends; because you have been a poor, ill-used child. I love you, and I want you to be good. It makes me sorry to have you so naughty. I wish you would try to be good for my sake, because I’m going to die soon. I shan’t be here very long.’

Topsy’s round, bright eyes grew suddenly dim with tears. She did believe at last that it was possible for some one to love her. She laid her head down between her knees and wept and sobbed.

‘Poor Topsy,’ said Eva gently.

‘Oh, Miss Eva, dear Miss Eva,’ cried the poor little black child, ‘I will try, I will try. I never did care nothin’ about it before.’

CHAPTER XVI

EVA’S LAST GOOD-BYE

It soon became quite plain to everybody that Eva was very ill indeed. She never ran about and played now, but spent most of the day lying on the sofa in her own pretty room.

Every one loved her, and tried to do things for her. Even naughty little Topsy used to bring her flowers, and try to be good for her sake.

Uncle Tom was a great deal in Eva’s room. She used to get very restless, and then she liked to be carried about. He was so big and strong that he could do it very easily. He would walk about with her under the orange-trees in the garden, or sitting down on some of their old seats, would sing their favorite hymns.

He loved to do it, and could not bear to be long away from his little mistress. He gave up sleeping in his bed, and lay all night on the mat outside her door.

One day Eva made her aunt cut off a lot of her beautiful hair. Then she called all the slaves together, said good-bye to them, and gave them each a curl of her hair as a keepsake. They all cried very much, and said they would never forget her, and would try to be good for her sake.

A few nights later Miss Ophelia came quickly to Tom, as he lay on the mat outside Eva’s door. ‘Go, Tom,’ she said, ‘go as fast as you can for the doctor.’

Tom ran. But in the morning little Eva lay on her bed, cold and white, with closed eyes and folded hands.

She had gone to God.

Mr. St. Clare was very, very unhappy for a long time after Eva died. He had loved her so much, that now his life seemed quite empty without her.

He did not forget his promise to her about Tom. He went to his lawyer, and told him to begin writing out the papers that would make Tom free. It took some time to make a slave free.

‘Well, Tom,’ said Mr. St. Clare the day after he had spoken to his Lawyer, ‘I’m going to make a free man of you. So have your trunk packed and get ready to set out for home.’

Joy shone in Uncle Tom’s face. ‘Bless the Lord,’ he said, raising his hands to heaven.

Mr. St. Clare felt rather hurt. He did not like Tom to be so glad to leave him.

‘You haven’t had such a very bad time here that you need be in such rapture, Tom,’ he said.

‘No, no, mas’r! tan’t that. It’s bein’ a free man! That’s what I’m joyin’ for.’

‘Why, Tom, don’t you think that you are really better off as you are?’

‘No, indeed, Mas’r St. Clare,’ said Tom, very decidedly; ‘no, indeed.’

‘But, Tom, you couldn’t possibly have earned by your work such clothes and such nice, comfortable rooms and good food as I have given you.’

‘I knows all that, Mas’r St. Clare. Mas’r has been too good. But, mas’r, I’d rather have poor clothes, poor house, poor everything, and have ’em mine than have the best, and have ’em any man’s else. I had so, mas’r. I thinks it’s nature, mas’r.’