Uncle Tom's Cabin
The Little Evangelist
It was Sunday afternoon. St. Clare was stretched on a bamboo lounge in the verandah,
solacing himself with a cigar. Marie lay reclined on a sofa, opposite the window opening
on the verandah, closely secluded, under an awning of transparent gauze, from the
outrages of the mosquitos, and languidly holding in her hand an elegantly bound prayer-
book. She was holding it because it was Sunday, and she imagined she had been reading
it,--though, in fact, she had been only taking a succession of short naps, with it open in
Miss Ophelia, who, after some rummaging, had hunted up a small Methodist meeting
within riding distance, had gone out, with Tom as driver, to attend it; and Eva had
"I say, Augustine," said Marie after dozing a while, "I must send to the city after my old
Doctor Posey; I'm sure I've got the complaint of the heart."
"Well; why need you send for him? This doctor that attends Eva seems skilful."
"I would not trust him in a critical case," said Marie; "and I think I may say mine is
becoming so! I've been thinking of it, these two or three nights past; I have such
distressing pains, and such strange feelings."
"O, Marie, you are blue; I don't believe it's heart complaint."
"I dare say you don't," said Marie; "I was prepared to expect that. You can be alarmed
enough, if Eva coughs, or has the least thing the matter with her; but you never think of
"If it's particularly agreeable to you to have heart disease, why, I'll try and maintain you
have it," said St. Clare; "I didn't know it was."
"Well, I only hope you won't be sorry for this, when it's too late!" said Marie; "but,
believe it or not, my distress about Eva, and the exertions I have made with that dear
child, have developed what I have long suspected."
What the exertions were which Marie referred to, it would have been difficult to state. St.
Clare quietly made this commentary to himself, and went on smoking, like a hard-hearted
wretch of a man as he was, till a carriage drove up before the verandah, and Eva and Miss
Miss Ophelia marched straight to her own chamber, to put away her bonnet and shawl, as
was always her manner, before she spoke a word on any subject; while Eva came, at St:
Clare's call, and was sitting on his knee, giving him an account of the services they had